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#if you recognize these/me then Hi Hello
caliginouscreature · 2 years
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compilation of phone pics of tentative Zaph-self-portraits
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observerkaine · 5 months
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Day 4: Keralis
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jazzzzzzhands · 9 months
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Ok but also I have the cutest idea.
Wally makes a card for Home. Because he loves Home and he puts so much love into it.
And he goes outside and sees Eddie
"Hi Eddie, I have a letter for Mail-in-time's day"
But first he must put it in Home's mailbox and raise the little flag.
Eddie chuckles and gets his mail right away.
Looks at the letter, looks at Wally and looks at Home and promptly puts it back into the mailbox and lowers the little flag
"Easiest delivery I've had today!" And he goes on his merry way.
Wally then gets his mail and walks up to home.
"Home, you've got a letter today"
Home creaks happily.
"I will help you read it!"
Then Wally opens the letter and reads it out loud and shows home all the drawings he drew on the card.
"With love, Wally"
And home is practically weeping in whatever way a Home can cry
And I'm so normal about this and I love themmmmmm
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Intro post:
Hi! Call me Blue/Orchid/anything else u come up with. It’s tumblr. You’re creative. Pick a nickname I’ll probably respond to it.
ASK ME FOR MY PRONOUNS. If you’re writing about me or smth and don’t want to go to the trouble of asking, please use every pronoun you can think of in the same sentence. Same with terms of address; stick them in a blender and mix them up unless I tell you otherwise thanks.
If you’re following for a Minecraft gimmick blog im sorry to say you’re not gonna get much of that here; I just love Minecraft orchids.
Boundaries:
If you send me an ask, message, or submission, there is no guarantee that I will read and/or post it. It’s my blog and I choose what I interact with.
If you DM me and I don’t know who you are, I may choose to ignore/close the DMs or block you. That’s not a comment on you at all, I just don’t like DMing ppl I don’t know on tumblr.
I reserve the right to block, unfollow, or otherwise not interact with a blog or post. We don’t do the scrupulous “if you don’t follow/reblog XYZ you’re a bad person” here. You are not entitled to my time or energy. I am not a celebrity. This is a blog I use for fun.
If you need something tagged consistently, ask me and I will do my best, but be aware that I cannot guarantee consistency. At some point I will probably forget to tag it. If you cannot handle something not being tagged, it may be best to unfollow.
I lose speech/language sometimes. Some posts I make will be made with AAC. The grammar and formatting of those posts will look different. Don’t be an asshole about it. If you’re rude about poor grammar/spelling/coherency on a post I will likely block you.
Ableism, queerphobia of any type, racism, etc. is not tolerated here. Honest questions are welcome. I’m glad to talk but I will not put up with bait asks or bad faith discussions.
If you know me irl, do not use information on this blog to out me, or tell other people about my blog without my consent. If you do that, I will block you/cut off contact. I keep my irl and internet life separate for a reason.
Tags:
#blue chatter: my personal posts, or posts I’ve reblogged with additions I’ve made.
#image ID: reblogs I make to add an image ID to a post, or posts that have already been ID’d.
Don’t expect more organizational tags than this. Even remembering to tag these things is hard.
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ilostyou · 2 years
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slay michael. tis the damn season supremacy
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❌💭 for the pining askgame!
~ @carrotscorner
I'm gonna do this one for Jackson cause I absolutely do not talk about him enough. Thank you so much for the ask!!! ^w^!
❌ did either of you ever try to get rid of your feelings for the other?
I think there was a mutual thing in the beginning of trying to get rid of the feelings for each other, except it was a bit worse of a case on Jackson's end. It was practically a goal for him to get rid of his romantic feelings, nonetheless any feeling that could be considered vulnerable. A think it was a little bit of denial at first till it did a full tilt in stuffing it down.
💭 who daydreamed about the other more often? what did they think about most?
I deffinitellyyyy daydreamed about Jackson a lot more than he did about me, mostly because he was so focused on trying to stuff down his feelings to ever try and wallow in them for a little bit. I thought a ton of things about him, but a lot of it was like..being so desperate for the smallest interaction or touch from him it consumed my mind. I didnt think he'd ever be interested in me for a hot minute so I didn't want to set myself up for heartbreak 😅
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dreamthinkr · 1 year
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never going to be over this
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dany36 · 2 years
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✌️🤪
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the-kneesbees · 1 month
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tell me why. some guy was running past my house. he was really cute. I look like a mess cause I got out of bed literally three minutes ago. and he kept STARING at me.
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spicygambles · 1 month
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someone I recognize found me 👀... goes to show that fans of hc and that other thing live in a comfortable Venn diagram
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norosesnolife · 3 months
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Confession time:
Back when I was fourteen or fifteen, I ran two side blogs on here that became mildly well-known in their respective groups: one was for an apple (yes, a literal apple), and the other was for Irene Adler, but from the Sherlock Gnomes film adaptation.
No specific reason for my confession tonight. I thought it would be funny to share!
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kumomist · 5 months
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been in a dcu/white collar kick lately so im rewatching wc and. i remember why i dropped this but also im seeing a lot more of the gay now
#txt#watching white collar#peter/neal/el hello??????#it was there at the beginning and then it kinda backslided#also kinda misogynist and racist/xenophobic??#i did not realize diana was canon gay. feeling secondhand embarassment for baby me why were you so dumb#white collar is the tragedy of neal having the concept of black/white morality constantly shoved in his face#peter is kinda preachy but he cares about neal#kate was manipulative and i hate they dont let neal acknowledgibg it for himself#the back and forth on the black/white morality is sooo annoying#neal wants to get revenge ok yeah hedging in your own codes for revenge can fuck you up#neal going behind peter’s back to protect treasure he didnt even steal??? no#like we got that little scene of mozzie and neal fighting but ughdhdj not enough betrayal#we couldve gotten a lot more fucked up feelings from that#neal feeling betrayed by peter’s actually valid accusation#peter feeling betrayed and doubling down on actually innocent neal#mozzie who is the cause and should respect neal’s decision if he wants to stay#lowkey think neal should be 500x more angry at moz for burning his original art#the treasure cam was so stupid why are you leaving definitive proof that you have the treasure in your room why#the weirdest part is recognizing actors. that is nate fords dad why is he here. why is he el’s dad. why is he a psychiatrist#note tho in case im wrong but i pretty sure im kindof face blind. i only started recognizing people from my classes this quarter#<person who takes a restrictive major that has a strict course schedule of courses that are only open to that major
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ramonathinks · 5 months
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THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS — gojo, geto, toji, higuruma, nanami, choso, sukuna x reader ft brief kusakabe cameo
Summary: in order to become a full fledge succubus, you must have a meeting with the seven deadly sins in the underworld. but you weren't expecting a meeting like this.
Tags: (18+ MDNI), 8some(?)/gangbang/orgy, dirty talk, breeding, squirting, mention of a lot of kinks, anal play, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs/throat fucking, daddy kink, size kink, riding, cunnilingus, overstimulation, exhibitionism, slight impact play, orgasm control, nipple play, breath play, mutual masturbation, snowballing, praise, dumbification, degradation, dominance/submissiveness, cock warming, pet names, finger sucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling, ball stimulation, doggy, slight mlm scenes between Geto and Gojo ofc, full nelson, mating press, double penetration, anal fingering (female), etc.
tagging: @omgeto @screampied (also thank you bae for making the banner 😘🤞🏾) @hoshigray (thanks for beta reading babe!) @kingkonoha @kanekisfavoritegf
A/N: please for the love of god, don’t ask for no part 2. i think a lot of people underestimate how hard smut writing is and especially since this is an eightsome. THANK UUUU FOR 1.6k followers & for waiting as long as you did for this! (5.4k words)
“Well, there’s one last test you have to complete…” Yaga told you, his face was a bit flushed. “It’s rather — er — well… Actually, I’ll just send you to them so that they can explain it to you.” He did an awkward cough and escorted you to the elevator; where he clicked the illuminating number seven. “Just tell them you’re here for your last succubus test.” He gave you a thumbs up and let the doors close behind him.
“Okay, cause that wasn’t totally weird.” You muttered to yourself, watching the elevator’s number increase. Your heart hammering in your chest. You’d been training for this for the past two years, you couldn’t believe you had one last test.
When the door opened, your eyes widened. There were dark velvet color drapes that decorated the entrance of the room as you stepped off the elevator. Every step you took, you felt a deep sense of uneasiness erupt in the pits of your belly. “Hello?” You finally mustered up some courage to speak. “I’m here for the last part of my succubus exam!” You exclaimed, noticing the dimly lit lights above you creating an ominous yet sexual atmosphere around you. Your thighs trembled. 
“Come in, little lady.” A man’s voice said as a door warped in forth of your body and pushed itself open. “Shoes off.” The man said. Hesitantly, you walked inside and slipped off your shoes. Your eyes roamed across the room as you noticed how wide it was – a velvet carpet floor that was soft between your white colored toes. Bits of fog clouded your vision; you could make out bodies but not faces.
“Oh, she’s quite a looker.” Another voice says around you – wrapping around your body like a snake. 
You heard a snicker, “You’re right, and I could smell just how wet she is; that’s the best part. Can’t wait to eat her up.” You could practically hear this person lick their lips. 
“She doesn’t even know what she’s in for… innocent little slut.” Your knees trembled at that. The way these men were speaking had you hot all over, even the air felt different as you stepped forward.
You swallowed, “I can hear you–”
“Oh, believe me… we know.” This time, when this voice spoke, he raised his hand and the fog split down the middle before completely leaving. Then, you were able to truly see the men who sat in front of you, and your body ran cold.
Seven men, who you were able to recognize from the many lessons you had drilled into your brain from your classes. You gulped as most of them chuckle upon seeing your eyes finally take in just who you were looking at. The legends themselves.
The Seven Deadly Sins: Sukuna Ryomen — Pride, Kento Nanami —  Sloth, Suguru Geto — Gluttony, Satoru Gojo — Lust, Choso Kamo — Wrath, Toji Fushiguro — Greed and Higuruma Hiromi — Envy
You swallowed, “So — um— what’s exactly the final part of my exam? Do I have to…like… pretend this is Jeopardy and answer a bunch of questions?” You heard a small scoff. 
“No. This is more the showing part of your exam.” Sukuna told you, his eyes trained on you. “We need to see you score high marks in satisfaction. Do you understand?” 
You bite your lip; it was difficult understanding what he was saying and not be dripping wet. They were all so beautiful, your nipples prodding out of the thin layer of your dress. You’ve had sex before, but that was way before your genes had kicked it. Twenty-one, inexperienced and horny. Now, you’re older and had basically been celibate for two years (excluding your times of pure masturbation). You were convincing yourself this would be a challenge, and it was one that you were intrigued to take.
So, you slipped your dress down, standing out of it completely and stood stark-naked in front of their prying eyes. 
“Yeah, this is going to be fun.” Toji smirked, walking towards you with his unbuttoned pants low on his hips. “The thing about sex is,” he pressed his palms to your shoulders and lowered you down. “It’s degrading. So, I want you to sit here on your knees and to keep your mouth open while I feed you this dick, got that?” 
You nodded and opened your mouth. He was about eight inches and it looked heavy in the palm; he could barely fit it in one hand, so you wondered if it would fit down your throat. But as he put it in, you already knew your answer. He didn’t move, just stood still. It was something about him standing there with his hardening cock in your mouth that turned you on. “Suck,” he told you, and you did just that, like a good girl. Sucking around his cock with a wet mouth, pulling him out to tap his dick right on your tongue before tonguing at his slit. He hissed and pulled back before shoving it deep into your mouth, and your eyes rolled back.
Bubbling spit drips down to his balls and you squeeze them, taking him out of your mouth for a moment before trailing your tongue up and down his entire dick. Reaching his balls, you take one in your mouth and suck one then you trail your tongue back up to his tip. Spitting on his cock, you stroke him. “Damn, girl; you've been waiting for this, huh?” He grabs your head and focuses you to take the entire thing, his hips harshly thrusting in and out of your mouth.. You barely notice that someone’s behind you until they fondle your breast, and you jump a bit before relaxing. They kiss your shoulders and move up to your neck, making you shutter and moan around Toji’s cock. He groans above and snaps his hips against you, pulling you closer to his pelvis, “Fucking, mouth is killing me.” You suck harder when you feel a hand on your clit.
“Pussy’s so damn wet.” You can hear just how wet you are, and it’s embarrassing. The squelching noises fill your head and over makes your legs open more. “You like sucking his cock that bad? That you’re gettin’ this wet over it? Want my cock buried inside of you? Right here?” He taps your cunt and you groan, nodding your head and rocking your hips against his hand. “Can’t even speak with that mouth full and I can still hear you loud and clear, pretty girl.” 
You’re still sucking Toji’s cock, putting your hands on the floor to truly get more around him, pushing your head even deeper into his hips. Pulling him out of your mouth, you press hot kisses on his tip end then place him back on your tongue, now looking him in the eyes. You could tell he was close with his eyes shut and his head pulled back. He was throbbing on your tongue and his hips were moving faster; they swirled a bit before he shook with a deep orgasm. His hot cum rushing down your throat, and he moaned loud, “Ah–fuck, fuck.. fuck***!” You kept sucking, the fingers on your clit moved in achingly slow circles. And when Toji pulled you off his cock, they finally slipped inside. 
“Now gimme a kiss.” You did, with shaking hands and closed eyes. Sloppy and wet, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth before he pulled back and licked his lips. The fingers inside of your greedy pussy rubbed your insides, and you humped against them. 
“Keep going, please.” Your eyes were closed as you rode their fingers, unsure of who it was but knowing that it felt good. A thumb on your clit and kisses on your back before colder hands lifted your breast, kissing and biting them playfully. “Oooh, please.” 
He sucked, “You like that?” You whimpered out something even you couldn’t understand. Your body is simply a toy at that moment. His tongue moves over each nipple and makes delicate swirls around them. Finally, you open your eyes and see a bundle of long black hair – Suguru Geto, who sucks on your breast with his eyes closed and rubs at your other nipple with another. Arching your back into him more but also seeking comfort in the person behind you, who’s using their fingers to scissor your gooey insides. Briefly looking up, Geto pulls away from your breast and kisses the person behind you, only a small kiss but it makes you wetter regardless. 
“Kiss me again, made her little pussy clench.” He kisses him again and your wetness soaks his hand. 
“Satoru, you sure that was for her, not for you?” Geto chuckles, and you can feel a hardness pressing against your back. Geto moves back down to your breast when someone takes your hand and moves their cock inbetween. 
“Thought you were gonna let us have all the fun, Choso.” Gojo snickers behind you, curling his finger enough to make you moan aloud. You see a good amount of precum and your mouth suddenly feels dry. Taking your hand, you jerk him once and he already looks as if he’s going to cum. 
“Her hands are so soft. I..” He’s stammering. “Wait…Need to cum…” A small whimper leaves his lips and he uncontrollably jerks his hips up; fucking your hand. Applying a small bit of pressure to the tip, his eyes shut and he’s jumping back. Sticky wetness drips to the floor and he stands on shaky legs, his eyes pleading with you. Gojo rubs his fingers between your folds; keeping you in the palm of his hands as you play with the others.
“You wanna cum inside of me, hm?” The moment you utter that sentence he bends over, almost sobbing as he nods his head. Twisting your hand around Choso’s red leaky tip, you lick a trail up his frenulum. Winking at him you pull back and kiss Geto, swirling your tongue around in his mouth before Gojo pulls your face to kiss you. Moans take over the room while you roll your hips and move into Gojo’s fingers and Geto takes the opportunity to slip a nipple in his mouth and you try to ignore the feeling to focus on kissing. But you couldn’t focus, when you heard wet noises surrounding the room and you didn’t need to look up to know what it was; everyone was jerking off and it made your body scorching hot.
“Wait,” You whisper, close to Gojo’s mouth and gently pushing Geto’s head away from your breast, standing on trembling legs and walking to Choso. “Thought you wanted me, baby…” A flip switched, no longer at the whim of men. He’s speechless, just nodding his head and swallowing. 
He mutters a quiet, “I do, please…” He kneels, rubs up and down your legs and you place your foot right on top of his sticky boxers.
“Want me to step on it, baby?” Your voice is low and condescending, a smirk tugging on your lips.
He’s gnawing at the skin on his lips and his face is flushed. “Y-yeah?” Your smirk twists into an evil smile before your foot presses down on his leaking tip and his head leans back. His hips raise but you don’t move an inch. He’s whining and sweet small whimpers leave his lips as his hips thrash against your foot.
“Beg for it.” He can only whine, no words to be spoken as he humps your foot with breathy broken moans filled the room.
“Baby—” He’s looking up at you with dark eyes, his confidence shining through, just a bit. Smiling at him you bend your knees and put his cock between your dominant hand.
“Ready?” You ask and he nods. “Need you to speak up...” Hovering your dripping pussy over his upright cock, almost close to entering, slipping the head between your hot folds is what makes him speak up.
“Ye-yeah.” He gulps and pulls his lips to yours, kissing you. Your eyes roll back a bit and you swear you can see stars, sliding the tip of his cock at your aching slit, you both shiver before you finally let his cock slip inside. He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat and his thighs clench under you. You pull back from him and salvia breaks apart, which he lips back up with an awkward smile. Putting weight on your knees, you bounced up and down on him, your tits on full display as they bounced with every move you made. The loud sounds of your pornographic moans filled the room along with the wetness noises of slapping skin; taking more of his cock inside of you each time you bounced down.
Turning your head, you look at Gojo and Geto and like a bee to honey they both rush over; Geto rubbing at your clit with a nipple in his mouth and Gojo kissing your lips, drinking your moans up. 
“I think im going to lose my mind, the way she’s riding me… oh fuck, im not going to last.” Choso hisses underneath you and grips your hips, trying to slow your pace. Slowly, he fucks into you, dragging his cock into your inner walls and feeling your pussy squeeze him in a tight hug. 
“You’re such a good boy Choso.” You lean down to kiss him as Gojo focuses on pressing kisses to your spine. Raising your hips and slamming back down you whisper in his ear, “Don’t you want to fill me up? Don’t you want to cum inside me all night like a good boy? Huh?” After that there was no more talking for a while as you fucked him, rolling your hips in circles and moaning in his ear. Choso’s body was wuthering trying to keep up with you; your pussy splattering out white cream as you kept a dangerous pace before his stomach caved in.
“Be gentle with me, please? Please baby or I’m—” he mouths out your name when he comes, thick ropes as his hips jerk, his eyes rolling back. He’s heaving loudly, digging his fingers into your hips as he comes down from his high as his body trembles. 
You barely get a minute to catch your breath before Geto and Gojo slaps their cock on your cheek with dark smiles. You open your mouth, knowing that both can’t fit inside but hoping that the tips can. Their cocks graze each other and you swallow around them. 
“Slutty mouth, taking both of us.” Geto whispers to himself as he shoves more inside, his hand on your head. You gag and they both groan with pleased looks on their faces, Choso’s cock twitches inside of you. 
“Choso, don’t you think you're being greedy? I wanna fuck her too…” Gojo whines, looking down at your puffy wet eyes as you choke more on their dicks; both of them throbbing on your tongue. Lifting your hips, a small pop is heard and bits of cum leak out of you. Looking down at Choso’s half hard cock you grin, he’s breathing so hard with hooded eyes.
“Can’t wait to play with that ass,” Geto tells you and your eyes widen a bit. Slipping their cocks out of your mouth, you take his balls into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks so tight around him that he pulls you off. 
Gojo is quick to turn your attention to him, he ignores Geto’s annoyed stare as he lifts you up. Turning you to the others, he holds your body for everyone to see. Your entire body was being stared at, pussy on full display — soaking wet with cum and your own slick— his cock hard and standing upright, teasing your clit. He grips your thighs and spreads them a bit wider, small strings from sticky folds breaking off as your pussy spreads. 
He enters you, fills you up and your toes curl. “Fucking tiny, aren’t you baby?” His cock angled perfectly at this position, slick running down your thighs as he fucking directly into you. He’s hitting a deep gooey spot inside of you making wetness come out of you in spurts, your moans making Gojo shiver above you. 
“Hold her still for a minute,” Geto whispers, face directly by your pussy, wetness shined on his face and you felt hot. He must’ve been there for a while. Licking up a long stripe from Gojo’s tight balls to his cock before he nuzzles his face into your cunt, pressing his tongue hard on your pulsing clit — your thighs shake when he pressed a small kiss there. He wraps his tongue against the bud and you jump a bit when Gojo does a small thrust, knocking you loose when he hits that spot again. Geto licks and swirls his tongue around before he moves back. “Just wanted a little taste…” He spits on your pussy and watches it slide down Gojo’s cock. “Looking fucking pretty with his cock inside of you, ya know that?”
You whine, barely able to talk at the sensation coming from your body. “Sloppy pussy making all that noise, hear that?” Geto urges you to listen to the plat wet noises that fill the room and once again, you feel something taking over you. 
“Are you gonna let me come inside too? Huh, my little treasure?” Gojo bites your neck playfully, thrusting deeper, a long moan leaving your mouth. You don’t remember Geto pulling himself to stand but when you feel his cock slap right to your clit, you jolt. Running your slick and his precum. 
“Let me stretch this pretty ass out, you think you can take both?” His face is flushed, his fingers circling your asshole before his thumb plays with it, you clench a bit before relaxing. “Oh? Already been played with.” He says, spitting on his hand and rubbing it in before he gently nudges his tip into your tight hole that’s stretching ready to take him. 
Almost too easily, it slips in and he huffs out a laugh, “So proud of you, I knew you could take it both of them.” He’s stretching you open and your eyes are blown wide.
“Ohhhh!” Leaves your mouth as they both thrust inside of you, both holes clenching and unclenching around them. “Ohh, god.” Messy sounds between the three of you and two bodies come to your sides, both placing your hands on their aching cocks. Your eyes are so heavy you can’t tell who they are , but your hands move up and down regardless with their hips meeting every thrust you give them. An unfamiliar hand on your clit makes your back arch and you can hear laughing above you. “Gojo.” Your voice slurs out, his cock coming close to your cervix and twitching inside of your tightness. 
Rough fingers circle your clit again and you gasp, “Please? Please?” You don’t know what you’re begging for until both Gojo and Geto do hard thrusts inside of you, making your thighs almost squeeze together.
“You like it here? Right here?” You can’t tell who’s speaking but Geto grinds his hips in circles, your bodies so close. The amount of wetness leaking out of you, makes you dizzy and now your tongue lolls out of your mouth before Geto kisses you hungrily massaging his tongue against your own, pulling back and spitting in your mouth, watching your throat swallow. 
“Oh you like being full huh? Fucking stuffed…” Your voice is lost, you can only nod with a fucked out smile on your face. “Really gonna fill you up, sweetheart.” The softness of your insides squeezes them both and you can see Geto’s eyes close and you can imagine that Gojo’s is too when Geto throws his head back and both of their cum gushes into you.
“Fuck— fuck,” They say together, both slipping out a bit, panting. Cum splatters out of both your holes as your pussy and ass flexes, you whimper when they both finally slip. Your hands are still jerking the two other cocks as Gojo holds you tightly before one of the men grip your hair and shoves his cock into your mouth, completely to the hilt and your eyes water. You look up to see Nanami’s blonde locks and his deep brown eyes looking at you, Toji’s rubbing big circles on your clit and now squeezing one nipple with his other hand and Higuruma’s cock pulsing between your other hand. 
“C'mon little love, pretty mouth needs to be soaked again, too.” You moan around him as he uses your throat, pulling you by your hair, groaning when he feels  you swallow around him. Your eyes flutter close as you suck with your, pulling him out so that his cock can sit on your face while you catch your breath. You can feel Gojo hand your body to Toji and you feel empty for a second not realizing that Toji’s leading you to a bed. 
He lays you flat on your back and Nanami moves between your thighs, bending over your body. 
“Some men like to see you touch yourself, I'm one of those men. Show me and I’ll reward you like the good little girl you are.” Nanami whispers right next to your ear. “Then I’ll help you, yeah? Would you like that?” You nod quickly and he moves back, sitting to watch. 
“Play with those pretty tits for daddy.” Your hands move faster than your brain and you reach for them, tugging at your nipples then squeezing them while you look at him. Your body is so overstimulated, you feel like you’re going to come any second. “Don’t come until I say so.” He reaches over to slap your clit and your thrash up, wanting him to touch you more. He slaps your pussy again and a wet stream follows down your ass before pulling again to just watch. 
You circle your nipples, looking at your breasts and tempted to reach down to please yourself. “Look at me… look at me while you touch yourself.” You whine and with eyes clouded with tears, you look at him. “Touch your pussy.” He looks directly at your pussy when it clenches around nothing but the air. 
You circle your clit but you ache for his fingers; they’re long and slender. Pressing deep into the bud with your middle and ring fingers, squishy gushing sounds while you work yourself up. Your fingers slipping inside briefly before you let out a frustrating sigh.
“Poor girl can’t even finger herself correctly, want daddy to show you?” You look up at him and he’s replaced your fingers with his and he’s curling them together, your legs quaking as his fingers fucks more squirt out of you. “Gotta get ‘em really deep to stretch this little cunt open.” He tells you, pushing against your g-spot a little, breathy moans leaving your mouth. Pulling his fingers out, he slips them into your mouth, twirling them around so that you can taste Gojo, Choso and yourself all on your tongue. “Your turn, put these fingers in deep.” He helps you put them in and curl them just like he did; he presses kisses to your lips and looks down at the puddle in the sheets. 
Your eyes roll back and you can’t breathe, he pulls back and looks at you. “You’re so pretty like this, you know that? Prettiest girl ever, just for me to see.” But it wasn’t just for him to see. You were putting on a show for all of them. Touching yourself and spreading your lips as their hungry eyes looked over your body.
He moves between your thighs and with a gentle tap to your clit, you both moan. You bite your lip, “Daddy, I—” He ignores you, pushing himself through your soaked and wet lips. He slides up against your slit and you shiver. He gives you a wide smile and kisses your lips; licking against your tongue, shushing you. Pushing forward, he moves your legs up so that your knees are pressed against your chest, once he enters you, cum leaks into the sheet. 
“This is what you want right? To be mine forever, to be ours forever? You don’t want to use your powers on anyone else… just me— just us?” He asks, pushing his cock deeper watching your face morn into a pleasureful expression. His cock has a curve in it and with the angle he has you in, you can feel every inch as he rams into you; fucking you while his cock fucks down and deep inside of your slutty cunt; his balls hitting the rim of your ass the harder he goes. 
Higuruma comes next to you and puts his cock in your mouth, not moving. Gathering spit in your mouth, you swirl your tongue around the head, teeth grazing him a bit and he seems to like it by the way he grips your hair. Choso stands on the other side of you and pushes your head his way, you let his hips thrust harshly and his balls slapping against your chin before Higuruma grabs your face and jerks off with your eyes on him; which Nanami doesn’t like. 
“Keep your eyes on me.” He grabs your face, his hips slamming against yours. “They can do whatever they want but when I'm inside of you, you keep your eyes on me.” That makes your eyes snap to his and even with the cocks in your face or in your mouth, your eyes are locked on his. His hips lose rhythm, stuffing you and he mutters a ‘fuck’, close to coming and you tighten your pussy to milk him dry. When he finally spills inside you get annoyed when you don’t cum. 
“Tell us you want it. Say how bad you need it.” Nanami says, a smirk engraved on his face.
“I… I want it, I need it.” His hands slide up and down your thighs.  “Please let me cum. It’s too much, I don’t think I can take it.” You needed to cum badly, pushing your hips up to his again. He slips out before slipping back inside and doing that over and over again before he slides in deeper, hitting that special spot inside of you harder than Gojo did and you cream around him. 
“Thank you, so—hah— so much, daddy.” Your pussy is flexing open and close as you stare at him, taking Choso’s cock back into your mouth then switching to Higuruma’s and suckling on the head. 
“Such good manners for a slut, don’t you think boys?” He says and you can hear the smiles on all of them as they agree and you feel giddy, almost satisfied. 
Higuruma moves from your mouth and hurries to your pussy, not saying anything as he spreads the lips before diving inside, his tongue licking up every bit of everyone before him and his nose nudging against your clit, you pushed his head deeper, grabbing his hair and grinding your hips so that he nose can hit every nerve in your clit. “Ohhh, sir, please just keep it right there.” Applying the pressure yourself and wiggling your hips, your legs stretched far and your brain turned to mush. “Gonna come, so hard.” You gasp before your legs cramp up slightly when you push him impossibly deeper. 
“How’s she taste?” Toji asks, looking at your face as you groan and squirm. 
“So fucking sweet…” he meets your eyes. “Better than anything I ever had. Don’t think anything could compare.” He nibbles on your clit. “It tastes better than heaven.” That was your breaking point and what made you break, cumming hard and squealing as you did. 
 Toji doesn’t care about you cumming as he digs his face in and sighs at the taste.
Using his fingers to spread you open. “I see what you mean Higuruma, this fucking sweet nectar on my tongue,” Toji uses more of his nose and your hips grind more, trying to feel more of his nose on your clit. 
Nanami’s cock is in your face and your head is upside down on the bed; head on the edge as you lie back and his cock fills up your throat, your eyes closed. He watches and feels you swallow around him and he mutters out a small, “Fuck, you’re killing me dollface,” when he can actually see himself, the outline of his cock inside of your pretty throat. He runs a finger up and down. He does a small squeeze to your throat as you suck, sloppily. But you wanted a bit more, the taste overwhelming your mouth making you move yourself to the edge of the bed, your nose on his pelvis and the small bush of his pelvic hair tickling your jaw. Even upside down, he could see the dazed look in your eyes, blown and bright as he slowly thrust his hips into your mouth. “There she is, there’s my girl.” 
You can hear Gojo laughing when he says, “She’s so far gone, all she knows is that she loves this. Little brain doesn’t work without a cock filling her up.” Agreements are heard all around and you feel so small, but Nanami rubs your head, scolding them with a stare. 
You can feel the presence of Sukuna before you see him; all touch around you disappearing before he bullies his cock inside of you, saying nothing. He just stares at you, your body humming as he rocks inside of you. “You like that? Gonna make a mess outta you.” He says, your mouth in a permanent ‘o’ shape, his heavy cock slamming down and filling your body up as the breath leaves your throat. “Dirty, filthy slut. Aren’t you, woman? All this cum inside of you and still want more, little pussy begging for it.” You clamp down on him and he hisses, still talking to you as he digs deeper inside of you – he probably has the thickest cock of them all, you can feel it in your throat. “You like being paraded around and fucked like a whore, like you’re nothing, you dirty little girl.” 
You’re nodding, gasping for air and nodding as he speaks down to you, getting wetter as he speaks to you. “Mhm. Yes, Oh– I do.” He has a devilish grin and he moves forward to bite your lip and then kisses you deep. 
“Just needed a real man to dig this pussy out the right way, yeah? To stretch you out. They weren’t doing it like me… c’mon, I know you’re close. So sensitive and wet for me. This fucking pussy’s crying for me,” And he was right, it was. It was weeping and with every stroke, more wetness covered his cock, dropping and splattering underneath you both. He licks the tears that fall from your face and asks you, “You like pleasing me? I can see it all over your face whenever I put my dick inside of you.” More tears fall and you can only nod your head at him, sobbing. 
His pace gets faster and more rough, bending your knees so that they touch your ears and your thighs shake move than they have today, thin milk colored cream mixed with wetness and so much overflowing cum leaks out of you but he doesn’t stop, just continues, slows down and then speeds up again. You can’t keep up with him, just lying there as he fucks you; small soft moans still leaving your lips. He coos at you, kissing your forehead. “Gonna fucking, cum inside my pussy, okay? This is my pussy.” He asserts his dominance over you and your body more than any of the others. With a strained moan, he fills you up; just another load inside of you that makes your eyes roll back and eventually they close. 
“Come back to us baby…” You hear murmurs around you, your body hot and flushed all over, your cunt and tits sore. your throat is scratchy. “I think she passed, right boys?” They chuckle and nod before Geto speaks again, “But, let’s try again to make sure she really gets it.”
Just then, the door opens and you can hear a shocked gasp, everyone looks in that direction. 
“Hey, Kusakbe, wanna train to be a sinner today?” Your legs shook and you huffed, looking up at the man who just entered. He smirked at your vulnerable form.
“Well…What the hell, yeah.” He unbuttoned his pants. “Ready for me, pretty?”
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ROOM FOR RENT
PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader
RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k
SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕
WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!
LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine
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If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.
Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--
Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.
Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.
He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.
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Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.
"Hello?"
A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"
"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"
"How much is it?"
"Your half would be $950.”
"And it's a whole bedroom?"
"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."
"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."
"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"
"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.
"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"
"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."
"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"
"Just tell me, I'll remember."
After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.
No results.
You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.
No results.
You try spelling his name differently.
No results.
You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.
A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.
"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.
He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.
Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.
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Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.
"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.
"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"
Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."
"My what?"
"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"
"No," Logan grunts.
"A cold date, then?"
Logan pinches his nose. "No."
"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"
"The who?"
"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.
"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.
"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"
"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."
"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"
"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."
"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.
"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."
Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.
"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.
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You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.
Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.
"Hi! You must be--“
Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.
"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.
"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."
You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.
"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"
"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."
"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"
"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."
"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."
"Dumpling?"
As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.
"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."
Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.
"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”
"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"
"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.
"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."
"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."
He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"
Were you?
"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."
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Having a roommate is...an adjustment.
Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.
But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.
Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.
"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.
"Yeah, bub?"
"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"
He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.
"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"
"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"
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A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.
"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.
"I don't see it."
"It's the bone structure."
"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"
"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."
Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.
It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.
That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.
Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.
He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.
It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.
Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.
Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.
"Shut up," he whispers.
Dumpling meows in return.
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You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.
"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"
Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.
You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--
Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.
"Morning," he says.
"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"
"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.
"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"
"It will be."
He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.
You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.
Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.
"Shut up," you whisper to him.
Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.
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You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.
"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.
"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."
Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.
"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"
"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"
Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.
"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"
"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"
"Ouch!"
"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"
"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."
Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.
"Get out," he growls.
"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"
"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.
You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?
"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."
"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.
"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."
You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"
"Because that's what you should be doing."
His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.
"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."
"But I could," he bites back.
"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.
Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.
"How can you be so sure?" he asks.
You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.
"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.
His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.
You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.
"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."
"Do what?" you tease.
"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."
You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.
"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."
You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.
"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.
"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."
He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.
You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.
"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"
He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.
"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."
You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.
You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.
"What are you doing?" you ask.
"Just getting started."
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Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.
You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.
"Scared yet?" he asks.
"I wouldn't say that.”
He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.
"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."
Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.
"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.
He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.
Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.
"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"
You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.
"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.
"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.
In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.
"Please," you murmur.
"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."
"Need you to fuck me."
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Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.
"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."
You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.
He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.
Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.
"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."
You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.
Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.
"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.
"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.
You've got better things to do right now.
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Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!
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corkinavoid · 2 months
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DPxDC Not So Artificial Intelligence
Barbara thinks it was Bruce, with his love for new additions to the Cave. Bruce thinks it was Tim, with his late hyperfixation on AI. Tim thinks it was Babs, with her ever evolving network of keeping everything under control.
They are all wrong, but the fact stays a fact: the BatCave has an AI assistant now.
It is not very good at first, not recognizing voices very well and messing up commands, but the Bats write it off as a learning curve. Besides, it never makes the same mistakes twice, and in a couple of months, even the tiniest slip ups fade away.
Its name is Betty. First, Dick named it Bat-AI (a reasonable name), then it transformed into Bat-I for easier pronunciation, and then Steph called in Betty once, and the name was sealed.
And they all love Betty. Betty is the best, keeping track of their everyday lives, reminding them of their civilian meetings and vigilante business, alerting them of any suspicious activity in the city. Oracle finally gets to sleep for more than 4 hours in a day with Betty's help. Tim gets company when he is three weeks in and elbows deep in a case - it's easier when he has an illusion of someone to discuss the matter with, and Betty even offers him insight. Damian learns to do digital art just to have a little competition with Betty. He wins, but the AI is a worthy opponent, in his opinion.
Even Bruce begrudgingly likes the AI assistant. She is competent and helpful, and Alfred seems to approve of how she doesn't let Bruce overwork himself when he escapes medbay to keep searching for answers.
That is, until one day, Tim installs speakers specifically for Betty in the Cave.
The voice that comes from them is not robotic or mechanical.
It definitely has human intonation.
"Hello, Red Robin," the voice - a male voice, actually - greets him with slight amusement. Tim feels an uneasy feeling sinking down in his stomach.
"Betty?"
"You know me as such. I would prefer it if you called me Danny. He/them pronouns."
Remind him, who installed the AI?..
---------------
Danny got trapped inside the Batcomputer somehow - I suspect Technus had a hand in it - and decided to embrace it. He used to be a vigilante himself, so why not help this whole family of vigilantes while he is at it? They look like they need a hand.
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whateveriwant · 3 months
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Ok I lied. Here’s some more Simon fucking himself stupid because apparently he has a chokehold on me. (prev: part 1, part 2)
You’d think a man that regularly fucks his own brains mushy would have a poor performance in the bedroom, right? For a normal man, perhaps, but this is Simon Riley we’re talking about; ‘vigor’ is his middle name.
So even after going for multiple rounds, cycling through multiple positions, and getting covered in multiple fluids, your boyfriend is as ready to go as ever… physically speaking, that is. Because as far as mentally goes, he dropped out a long time ago, somewhere between taking you on your back and then on your knees.
Now you’ve reached the part of the night you like to call your ‘wind down phase’, where you’re just looking for one last, easy release before you throw in the towel. But where you’re tired, sensitive as hell, and already feeling tomorrow’s soreness starting to creep in, Simon’s still pinching and pawing at you like he can’t get enough.
As you lazily ride him, fingers curled over his thick shoulders, Simon’s own hands are pressed hungrily into the meat of your hips. From where he’s sat against the headboard, his lower back propped up by a pillow or two, he’s in the perfect position to guide you back and forth in his lap.
It’s as you feel the slow approach of your final climax that you begin to pick up the pace a little, only to slow right back down again as a sudden noise has you distracted. It takes you a second to place the sound, but once you recognize it, you’re immediately grinding your movements to a halt.
Simon’s phone only rings when it’s you or his work calling. And seeing the current situation you find yourselves in, you know it’s not the former.
The phone rings and rings, neither one of you bothering to move for it. The call gets sent to voicemail, and for a moment you think that’s all it’s going to be, but as the phone promptly begins to trill again, you know something else is up.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you reach over to the nightstand to grab the device. “It’s John,” you tell your boyfriend, seeing his Captain’s contact flash across the screen. You turn the phone around to show Simon, but it seems he has little interest in it, his grip on your waist unwavering as his phone buzzes away in your hand.
“Should you answer? Could be important,” you say. The boss making back to back calls speaks of urgency, if not emergency. But Simon’s focus lies solely on where your two bodies are connected, a sex-fueled tunnel vision if you ever saw one.
Though one look at Simon’s face tells you he’s in no place to have a meaningful conversation right now, as the phone darkens again, only to then light up for a third time in a row, you know this is serious. So despite the haziness in his eyes and the limpness of his jaw, you decide to answer the phone, putting it on speaker.
There’s silence on the other end for a moment before you hear the deep baritone of Price’s voice calling out. “Simon?” He waits a beat. “Simon, hello?” He tries again when he hears nothing in response.
While Price is kept in limbo, you’re busy trying to rouse your boyfriend back from brain death. “Simon, it’s John,” you whisper to him, hoping to not be heard by the other man on the phone. Unfortunately, Simon gives zero indication he’s heard you, his bleary gaze looking right past you.
“You there, Simon?” Price’s voice crackles over the speaker.
Bringing your hand up, you lightly tap Simon on the cheek. “Baby, it’s John. Your boss,” you whisper again, slightly louder this time.
Again, he offers you no response, just a slow blink, an even slower trickle of drool starting to form at the corner of his mouth.
As you hear another gruff, “Simon?”, being spoken over the phone, your taps become a little more insistent, a little more forceful.
“It’s Price, Si. Price. Captain Price,” you hiss, urgently patting him against the cheek.
Somehow, whether by miracle or sheer force, you’re able to knock Simon’s last two brain cells together and coax forth a vaguely human-sounding reaction from him.
“Priiizzzzze,” Simon rumbles out, a garbled approximation of his Captain’s surname.
The line goes quiet for a beat, and you can almost imagine the man on the other side blinking in confusion. Then, “You alright, Simon?” he asks earnestly. “Now’s not a bad time, is it?”
Thankfully, Simon seems to have regained the smallest hint of his bearings again, and he manages to hum a solid, “Mmmf.”
Price takes a moment to consider what he means by such an ambiguous response, and deciding it translates to ‘Speak freely’, he does just that. “Well, I’m callin’ because we’ve just received word of some new developments comin’ out of Hong Kong. Laswell’ll want to give a full briefing tomorrow mornin’, but essentially–”
And that’s about as far as Simon gets before he checks out again.
As Price continues to lay down the basics for him, Simon’s focus shifts back to what he really desires: the person he’s currently buried to the hilt inside.
His Captain’s droning acts as little more than background noise as Simon reaches up and begins toying with one of your nipples. The action is unexpected (not to mention ill-timed given the circumstances), and you try batting his hand away, even as a pleasurable tweak has you choking back a moan.
However, unfazed, Simon drags his fingers down, down, downwards, slowly tracing the midline of your body until he reaches your throbbing sex. His fingers are warm and slightly rough as he begins to stroke you, applying just the barest of touches, but it’s enough to light your nerves on fire.
This time, it’s harder to stop your moans from spilling forth, and you’re forced to mash your lips together lest you reveal your presence to the Captain still chirping on and on. Your free hand darts down to grab Simon’s wrist, meaning to tug it away, but instead, you find yourself pausing, holding onto him as a shudder wracks up your spine.
You know you should push him away – or, at the very least, tell him to ease up a little – but it just feels so fucking good that you can’t bring yourself to do either.
Besides, even if you were to speak up, would Simon be cognizant enough to heed your words? A quick peek at his expression tells you all you need to know. The lights may be on upstairs, but there is no one home right now to answer the phone.
You can feel the hand between your legs grow wetter and wetter as you start to leak droplets of your arousal. The slippery fluid makes Simon’s fingers glide that much smoother, that much slicker as he rubs you.
Even the way he’s touching you now – the way he’s expertly taking you apart – isn’t the result of conscious decision making by Simon. His movements, however deft, aren’t directed by any true rhyme or reason; they’re pure muscle memory at this point.
Simon’s other hand on your hip starts to rock you against him, and you find it’s getting harder to keep yourself under control. Try as you might to tamp your voice down, your ecstasy soon gets the better of you, and before you can stop it, you’re muttering a less than subtle, “Fuck.”
Immediately, you realize what you’ve done, and you slap a hand over your mouth at your mistake. As Price’s side of the call goes similarly quiet, you squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to kick yourself for your carelessness.
Just as you think the jig is up, however, you catch a lucky break, as not a second later, Price resumes, “–boots on the ground to confirm what these sat images have been pickin’ up.”
The feeling of relief that floods you is almost akin to euphoria, and you exhale deeply (but not loud enough to be picked up over the receiver) as you bring your hand back down.
That was close; way too close for comfort, honestly. And yet, despite how close you just came to exposing yourself, Simon is totally, completely oblivious to it all.
This time when you reach for the wrist between your legs, you successfully tug it away. You feel like you’ve tempted fate enough for one night.
Though Simon puts up zero fight as you remove his hand from your sex, that’s only because he then reaches up and quickly stuffs his slickened fingers into his mouth. His eyes fall shut as he savors the salty taste of your arousal, a sort of blissful wave washing over him as he sucks his fingers clean.
Somehow, though you’re not sure how it’s possible, you swear you can feel him grow even harder where he’s buried inside you. The sensation makes you squirm, wanting to bear down on the fullness within you, but you force yourself to resist the urge to tilt your hips back and forth.
This is almost torture at this point, like you’re caught in some kind of kinky Saw trap. Honestly, you’re not sure how much more of this you can take. But thankfully, it appears you won’t have to endure it for much longer.
“All that’s to say, it looks like our timetable’s been moved up. We’ll be shippin’ out earlier than expected,” Price starts to wind the one-sided conversation down.
Though Simon has been relatively mute this entire time, for some reason, at this moment, he takes the opportunity to let out a long, “Mmmmmm.”
While you know the noise isn’t much more than an appreciative moan at your taste, Price is unaware of that fact, and so he asks, “That’s not a problem, is it, Lieutenant?”
You both wait a few beats for Simon to respond, but with less than a handful of working neurons left in his brain, you figure that’s unlikely to happen. Knowing Price is still expecting an answer and your boyfriend is unable to offer him one, you realize you have to take matters into your own hands once more.
So puffing out your chest and straightening up your spine, you muster up your best Simon impression as you expel a deep, gravelly, “Hmm.” The several seconds that follow find you holding your breath in anticipation, praying to whatever god will listen that Price buys your impersonation.
It’s after he eventually says, “Alright, well, I’ll expect you at 0800 for tomorrow’s brief,” that you breathe again, feeling nearly on the verge of passing out.
Frankly, this whole ordeal has left you exhausted. From having to hide from Price to having to pull one over on him, you feel like your heart is liable to give out any moment now.
If only Simon had been more of a conscious participant in this conversation maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad. You and him could have quietly laughed and swore together in your shared misery. Instead, he’s too preoccupied with squeezing your nipple again between his wet fingers to notice anything’s the matter.
You don’t even bother pushing his hand away this time as you can sense the call is mercifully coming to a close.
“Have a good rest of your night, Simon,” Price says through the speaker.
If you weren’t so wrecked right now, you could almost leap with joy from how utterly relieved you feel. From the moment you answered this call, you thought you’d undoubtedly be found out. Truth be told, you’re not sure how you managed to make it through the past several minutes unheard and undiscovered. All you know is that you did and you’re beyond grateful for that.
But before you can hang up the phone to celebrate, Price has one last thing to say. Just as you’re about to press the end call button, just as you’re about to fling the phone to the far side of the room, just as you’re about to collapse into a boneless heap because you’re finally, finally, finally in the clear, Price gives one last farewell that makes your stomach fall out of your ass.
“And you too, (Y/N).”
The call dies, and you wish you died with it.
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