"F*ck your stupid, sexy Miniskirt"
How the Hashira react to your new Mini Skirt. Except Muichiro Ofc, I'm not a weirdo
Modern au, Hashira x fem!Reader
Tengen Uzui
Bro's an ass man and nothing will EVER convince me otherwise
So obviously, when he see's your ass stuck in the tiniest little skirt when you were heading out with your friends for a night.
He couldn't help the way his big hands accidently grazed your ass as he gave you a hug goodbye
And how would he have known his one kiss goodbye would turninto a flurry of sloppy kisses
And he definitely couldn't help the way his member hardened with the need to be deep inside of you
“Fuck baby, m’gonna be late” you moaned when Tengen’s cock slipped past your entrance. You weren’t even sure how you had gotten yourself pressed up against your front door, skirt riding up your ass and nipples rock hard underneath your rhinestoned shirt. Uzui had said he just wanted a kiss goodbye and that was all you ever intedned for it to be, but god it felt so good to get swept up in his big arms, with his equally large hands roaming all over your body. And now you had his thick cock stuffing you full, over and over again, smooshing your face against the wall with every thrust. You let out what was intended to be a sigh but came out a moan as you gripped onto the bigger hand gripping your hips. Guess your friends would have to wait a while.
Giyu Tomioka
I don't know why so many of y'all think this man is a dom
Please, he's never had any sort of sexual interaction in his life until he met you
He's still learning about his own feelings, let alone his sexual attraction
So you can't blame him for his reaction to all the skirts you tried on in front of him after dragging him with you to the mall to help you shop
After all, who wouldn't get bricked up after seeing their girlfriend's fat ass peaking out of miniskirts of every color in the universe
“Aww, my poor baby’s cock is rock hard” you cooed as you settled yourself between your boyfriend's legs. Tomioka just stared at you in awe as your manicured hands grasped his member, pretty glossed lips gliding over his cock. You had done this to him a couple of times before but he swore never got used to the feeling of you taking him in your mouth, sloppily sucking his cock, and bobbing your head up and down so fast he had to bite his hand to handle the stimulation. He honestly thought he was a goner when your tongue came to tease the slit of his tip, but when he peered through his lashes at the mirror across from him in the dressing room. His cock twitched and cum shot out and onto your face when he saw your red miniskirt riding up, giving him the perfect view of your fingering your wet cunt.
Kyojuro Rengoku
Kyojuro would hoenstly be confused when he felt the overwhelming need to fuck you every time you walked past him in a mini skirt
He believes he has a good sense of self-control
Or at least enough to allow him to look at his girlfriend in a skirt without salivating like a horny teenager
But there was something about you in that damn skirt that made him lose every ounce of control in his body
Stars, that skirt just made him want to fuck the shit out of you
“Fuck~. . .ah” you moaned out, eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure and eyes rolling back in your head as Kyojuro’s cock rammed into you faster and harder than you think it ever has. Usually, your man was loving and kind. He took his time when he said fucked you, no, made love to you. But this was different. Completely different from the normal. “Oh my god K-kyo, slow down” you cried out. Kyojuro could hear all your cries, he could see your legs quivering on the verge of giving out. But he couldn’t find it in him to let go of the death grip he had on your hips. His eyes glued to your creamy entrance and your essence that covered his cock as he pushed himself balls-deep into you. And fuck, that skirt just barely covering the fat of your ass was driving him even crazier. “I’m sorry baby, I-I can’t” he breathed. “I think I’m gonna cum in this pretty cunt again”
Mitsuri Kanroji
Mitsuri is never beating the bottom allegtions
I mean, this girl is never on top
But when she saw you chilling at home in one of her skirts that were a little too short for you
Your thighs looking ever so plump underneath the pretty black fabric
Mitsuri felt drawn to the sight, seating herself next to you
Smooth, long fingers tracing over your thighs and farther up your leg
You panted and threw your head back with a moan as your girlfriend's long, slender fingers drilled in and out of your cunt, curling to hit that perfect spot inside you. Mirtusi let out a moan of her own when she felt your cunt flutter around her fingers in a way she hadn’t felt in such a long while. She had almost forgotten how drenched your pussy got, how much you really did love when she took control. Mitsuri drew closer and laid supple kisses along your throat, licking along the flesh there and admiring the way your cunt gushed from the sensation. She couldn't believe she hadn't taken the chance to treat your sweet cunt right. But she would be sure to now, determined to make you finish all over her fingers and maybe . . .just maybe her tongue later.
Sanemi Shinazugawa
You make him hard no matter what you do
Like you could breathe and you'd see little Sanemi poking through his pants
So seeing you bent over in the laundry room, wearing one of your old skirts that barely fit you anymore because all your clothes were in the laundry
Had him palming his cock through his sweat pants
He simply was not at blame for what happened next
“Fuck S-Sanemi I gotta put bleach in t-the, Fuck- washing machine”*You gritted out, trying to free your hands from his stronghold. Sanemi strengthened his grip on your wrists, landing a sharp blow on your ass as he plowed his cock into you. You moaned, your legs buckling underneath you from the strength of his thrusts. “You’re wearing this tiny ass skirt and expect me not to pound this fuckin cunt?” he spoke. You roll your eyes, in annoyance. “You’re the worst '' you whined. Sanemi just laughed at you, peering down at where you two were connected. He was always amazed at how sloppy his girl’s pussy was, wet and leaking all over him and your thighs. “You'll like me a lot better if you keep creamin on me like that sweetheart”
Gyomei Himejima
Since Gyomei is blind, one of his biggest love languages with you is physical touch
You all love experiencing each other with your hands
Clinging onto each other while you kiss
Feeling each others bodies are thoroughly
It is definitely one of Gyomei's favorite ways to connect with you
So imagine his excitement when you said you had a surprise for home, that involved physical touch
;)
You giggled as you grasped Gyomei's strong hands, guiding them to feel the mold of your figure under the surprise you were wearing. “Is this a skirt?” he asked when you let his hands explore independently. “Mhmm” you hum, groaning a little when his hands came to squeeze at your ass, “I bought a short one and I thought you’d like it,” you told him. Gyomei leaned farther into you, letting his hands travel under your skirt and onto your pantie-clad slit. He grinned, feeling the fabric already dampened with your juices. Using his middle finger, he rubbed tight circles on your clit and prodded at your entrance gently. You used his shoulders to brace yourself as he picked up his pace. Panties soaking through from how wet he was making you.“I’m gonna cum” you whimpered. Your orgasm was always unbearably quick with him. Gyomei smiled, flicking at your clit just a little faster to push you over the edge. “Go on my love, let me feel you”
Obanai Iguro
Obanai loves your body in everything you wear
He likes to show you off really
Which is why he let you come with him to a club with a few of his friends
the new mini skirt he bought you clinging to your thick curves
He loved the skirt on you
What he didn't love
Was the looks his friends were giving you
Their eyes staying glues to your backside
His jealousy only grew throughout the night
Which is how you ended up bent over in the club's bathroom
Hanging on to the stall walls for dear life
With how many times Obanai had fucked you, you would think you would get used to the sheer size of him. But everytime proved wrong. He was so long that he reached that spongey spot inside of you every time he fucked into you, and he was so fucking thick you didn’t know how you were handling it. Especially now, when his thrusts were mean and jealousy fuelled, leaving you with no choice but to squirt with every thrust. You knew you wouldn’t be able to scramble away if you tried, but you couldn’t help but instinctively push off of his cock. He rolled his eyes at you, almost finding your attempts at getting free humorous. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he pulled you right back on his shaft. Obanai knew he was being far, far rougher than usual, but until he heard a safe word from that pretty little mouth of yours, he’d pound into you as much as he wanted. “Fuck are you running from” he gritted out, “You wanna let my friends stare at what belongs to me” he spoke. “Wanna act like a fucking slut, then i’ll fuck you like the two dollar whore you are” he sneered.
Shinobu Kocho
Shinobu's a munch
Like, she loves eating you out so much
If She's tired, she'll suck on your clit to lull her to sleep
If She's excited, she'll pour it out while licking your slit
If She's angry, she'll take it out on your poor pussy
Today was one of the days where she was exhausted
Having just come home from work all she could think about was you and your sweet cunt
When she walked into your shared bedroom, she saw you sleeping
You mustv'e come home from hanging out with your friends as your outfit would have only been appropriate for a club setting
Shinobu was going to let you sleep, she truly was
But staring at your thick thighs, spilling out of your tiny little skirt made her drop down onto her knees
Shinobu chuckled as she spread your legs, your bare pussy staring back at her, you had no panties on. “Slut” she mumbled to herself. She let her thumb trace over your cunt, eyes flickering between your most private part and your face to see if you were still asleep. She leaned down to lick a long stripe from your hole to your clit, watching as your face scrunched up in your sleep. As she got lost in the feeling of eating you out, her eyes fluttered shut and her lips sucked at your clit. Not caring if she woke you up or not. It was only when her thin digits slid into your entrance that you jolted awake, instinctively moaning in a sleepy haze. Your moans turned to whines as your hips ground up into her mouth and down onto her fingers. Shinobu barely noticed you were cumming as she continued to lick on your clit until your hand came to tiredly push her head off of you. She looked up, licking her lips, “Shh baby” she said, kissing your thighs, “Go back to sleep and let me keep eating”
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moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett
pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader
summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n
a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3
main masterlist / ao3
The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants.
He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.
The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use.
Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic.
Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel.
But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed.
The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.
"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap.
Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt.
He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.
Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation.
The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?
He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.
"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.
"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."
"Can't blame ya."
He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks.
So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?
Because it was the first time you'd been alone.
"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.
"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.
Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."
"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.
"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."
Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.
"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.
"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.
Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.
"I guess so."
A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.
"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich
"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth– we've got mutants."
Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."
He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.
How did he even know that?
"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you.
You could be brave– Just say it!
"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."
A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure.
The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.
What was even your plan?
You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?
You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home.
If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.
"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.
"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.
He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand.
"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.
His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."
"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.
Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.
"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.
Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"
...................
The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason.
The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped.
Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.
Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.
In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck.
A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.
The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.
"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.
Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt.
"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"
"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks.
He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."
"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.
"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."
His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.
"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form.
He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.
Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.
"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks.
"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.
"Me?" you questioned, breathless.
"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"
"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.
"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.
Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.
At last his cock sprung free.
You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck.
"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder.
"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock.
A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.
Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand.
"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug.
"That's it, good girl, just like that."
A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.
A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.
"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."
You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing.
Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.
Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.
The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."
He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass.
"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.
"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity.
He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man.
"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.
You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away.
"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.
His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.
"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"
A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth.
"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.
His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.
A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.
A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly.
"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."
The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.
"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out.
The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.
"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.
Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.
But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.
"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub."
Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal.
The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to.
"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."
His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you.
"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."
With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.
"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."
And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.
Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.
It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built.
"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.
Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.
"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."
A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles.
"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."
It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.
"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.
Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.
With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum.
Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin.
A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans.
The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.
"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.
You smiled, "I could eat."
...................
hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!
© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!
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F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-
And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)
I hear your calls <3
...............
"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"
"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."
With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.
You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.
And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.
You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.
But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.
It was like you were performing a surgical operation..
Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.
Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.
Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.
Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.
Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.
"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."
"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"
"...because I was his favorite."
"Huh..?"
"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."
'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.
Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.
"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."
"........"
Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.
Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.
Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"
He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.
'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'
Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.
You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"
"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"
Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.
You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.
"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.
He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."
"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."
"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"
Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"
"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."
"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"
"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."
With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."
"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"
"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."
"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.
You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.
He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.
"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.
"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."
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