#AND I KNOW HOW TO HELP THEM. THEY JUST NEED TO BE FORCED BACK ONTO THE SAME PAGE. I THINK I KNOW HOW TO HELP. BUT I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO

[winterishopefvl]

warnings: amab ellie, unprotected sex, needy/whiny ellie, breeding kink, overstimulation, porn no plot lol but established relationship. not proof readddd

ellie's hands were tight around your hips that it hurt, the pain was dizzying. you could feel her cum leaking out of your poor, abused pussy, but you could also feel her cock pumping in and out of you after god knows how many rounds.

"baby," ellie's breath hit the shell of your ear, her voice a low whimper. you didn't know how long she'd been going, or how many times she'd cum, you could barely form a single thought at all, "need– fuck, babe, i need to knock you up."

her hips picked up in speed and the sound you let out was almost a scream, so overstimulated it almost hurt. ellie's pitiful cock was aching from how many times she'd cum, she was exhausted, but she didn't dare stop. she wanted to breed you, she needed it.

needed to see your tummy swell with her babies, needed to watch her cum spill out of your pussy just so she could stuff it back inside with her fingers. the little squeaks that kept leaving your mouth were so adorable, she couldn't help but grab one of your legs to place it up on her shoulder.

the new angle made your mouth fall open in a silent moan, your shaky hands came up to rest on her hips, nails biting into her skin, "e–ellie," you cried out when the tip of her cock hit your cervix. one of your hands held the back of her neck, keeping her head pressed against your shoulder.

"gonna look so– so fuckin' pretty, sweetheart," she panted in your ear, her fingers curling into the sheets beside your head as her cock throbbed inside you. your walls clamped down around her with the force of your rapidly approaching orgasm, making her choke on a groan.

a whimper tumbled from your mouth when two of her fingers came down to rub your clit in sloppy circles, involuntarily bucking your hips up to suck her cock in deeper. her other hand lifted the back of your knee so your other leg was on her shoulder too, her cock impossibly deep inside you, "oh, fuck!" your nails dug into the nape of her neck as she repeatedly rammed her thick length inside you over, and over again, clamping down hard around her when your juices gushed all over her cock.

ellie fucked you through your orgasm, reluctantly pulling her fingers away from your clit. she picked up her speed a tiny bit, using you like you weren't her girlfriend anymore, like you were just a hole for her to fill. ellie buried herself inside you to the hilt, spilling her sticky load inside you for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.

ellie's voice, her cock, her cum, it all made your head spin. you weren't even sure if you could handle another orgasm, or if you could handle more of her cum. your pussy couldn't hold any more of it, it was evident in the way it leaked from your hole and onto the sheets underneath you.

your girlfriend noticed, as she always did, and it made her pout.

under any other circumstances, you would've cooed at her and called her adorable, but you knew that look, she wasn't done. god, you didn't know if you could take any more.

your theory was proven right when she pulled out of your weeping pussy, hearing her whine when her cum spilled out onto the sheets. she wanted to breed you, but how was she supposed to do that when her precious cum wasn't where it needed to be?

ellie's fingers came up between your legs, making your thighs shake when she scooped some of her cum out from your cunt, then bringing her hand up to your open mouth and stuffing her fingers in your mouth. you were surprised at first, but then you sucked on the digits eagerly, swallowing every bit of her cum on them.

and while you were distracted, ellie was already inserting her cock back inside you, rolling her hips into you lazily. her middle and ring fingers pressed down on your tongue when you tried to protest, leaning over you to kiss your nose, "just let me have this? i gotta get you pregnant, babe, i need it."

you listened with a whimper, of course you did. you might've been tired, but you wanted this as bad as she did.

so with a bob of your head, you spread your legs wider for her, a tear of overstimulation slipping down your face.

ellie smiled at the sight, lowering her mouth down by your ear, "that's my sweet girl."

i need ellie to get me pregnant so bad its actually concerning now

also thanks for 300 followers :3

[mysterymachine67]

PAIRING -> Dean Winchester x M!reader

SUMMARY -> Having Dean touch himself in front of you while you watch.

NSFW. MINOR’S DNI.

“Uh uh, don’t stop,” you reminded.

“Baby, please—“

“No, now come on.”

“S’torture..” Dean nearly whined, moving his hand back to his clothed cock. Starting to press and rub with his palm. His hips moved up, but you told him to keep them down.

“Nothing you haven’t done before,” you replied. Shifting in the chair to his desk. You were right beside the bed, well there was a good amount of space between, sitting in a chair watching Dean touch himself. You told him you weren’t going to do anything but watch. And maybe give a few orders but that’s all. He huffed and squirmed a bit. Trying to push his hips up against his hand without you noticing. Only getting a few small thrusts until you said something. “Dean, we’ve talked about this,”

His eyes nearly shut and his head tipped back. Letting out a small groan before responding. “I know, s’hard not to,” he couldn’t help it, bucking his hips again. “Feels to good.”

“Yeah, well, you either quit or this won’t be happening at all. We’ll just take a nice, cold shower. You want that?” You were serious and he knew it. By your tone, your face, and by how long he’s known you for. Dean didn’t answer you, only avoiding eye contact and grumbling something under his breath. You let it slide. You knew by when he started getting more fidgety, trying to fight the urge to fuck his hips up, that he was getting close. And you were right.

Dean let out the most pathetic whine before turning his head to look at you. “Please just touch me,” he pleaded. He needed you, bad. You hummed a ‘no’.

“Next time.”

He cursed under his breath, deciding to try and ignore the longing for your touch. He pressed and rubbed with his palm till he spilled in his pants. Letting out whimpers and moans. His other hand gripped the sheets, attempting to ground himself. You stood up, proud of yourself. Now with you towering over the bed—towering over him, he expected for you to touch him. Or do something. But you didn’t, only telling him to go again.

“We’re not done.“

He leaked. Everywhere. It dripped down his cock and onto his hand. Got onto his stomach somehow. All that. Dean still hasn’t given up on begging for you, and you haven’t given up in saying no. “Sweetheart—“

“Nope,”

Dean let out a defeated sigh. Starting to force his hand to move again. His hips bucked and you decided to just let him—figuring he wouldn’t let up. “Maybe if you’d actually listen to me I could fuck you after this,” that got his attention. “Who knows?” You smiled.

Great.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

i hc that Marc has a biting kink. I just wanted to put that out. Marc is the kind of guy to suck first, pull back for split second- CHOMP

I am politely screaming!

(I blended this ask with another one, which I hope is okay!)

Late

Marc Spector x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Warnings: Sleepy sex, p in v sex, biting, love bites, pet names, cream pie, pussy smacking (but softly), Marc being a bit drunk on pleasure, not beta read, like really, really not beta read, I'm sorry, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 823

You gasp, arching your back as Marc pushes into you lazily from behind. His chest is warm against your back, his legs intertwined with yours and caught up in the bedding. 

You’d been about to fall asleep when he’d come back home. He’d tried to get into bed quietly, so as not to disturb you. But you’d wriggled back, pressing your ass against his crotch and muttering ‘I missed yous’.

One of his arms is squeezing your hip, urging you to rock and roll against him however you want, matching your pace as he languidly thrusts inside, rubbing your walls perfectly with the head of his cock. 

His other hand is wrapped under your neck so he can palm your jaw, pushing your head to the side so he can lick into your mouth and mutter nonsense against your lips. 

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps and moans, maveling in how your pussy squeezes and pulses, pulls him deeper inside. He pants, groaning, “You’re so warm and wet, god.” He shivers, bucking a little harder and whining when you flutter around him. 

He can’t help himself as he mouths at your neck, sucking and licking at your skin as he just lets himself sink back into the sensation, lets his mind slip into a buzzing quiet as his body’s craving for pleasure takes over. 

“Marc,” You whine his name, wriggling as you push back to get the best angle. He growls a reply, his eyelids fluttering closed as he sinks his teeth into your neck and sucks hard. 

You moan, shivering in his arms as he bites, littering your skin with bruises. 

His chest rumbles against your back as his grip on your hip tightens, his teeth pressing ever so slightly firmer. 

You gasp his name again, rocking back harder as you chase your pleasure, needing to feel him stretch the deepest part of you. 

He mutters your name between bites and snaps of his teeth, suddenly rolling onto his back and pulling you with him like you weighed nothing. No matter how many times you bear witness to his superhuman strength, it still surprises you. 

Marc keeps you pressed against his back, rocking up into your heat as he moves from one side of your neck to the other to feast. He bends his knees, forcing them between your legs and spreading them wide as he fucks up into you, moaning as his cock bullies in and out. 

“Marc,” you writhe, reaching back for him and he growls again, grabbing hold of your arms and holding them to your chest as he plants his feet and moves faster. 

He pierces the very heart of you, spearing so deep you think you can see stars. Your thighs shake as you’re stretched over the thick base of him, pleasure bubbling and building in your stomach. 

He moans in your ear, his breath hot. “Fuck, fuck,” he mutters between nips at your skin. “Letting me fuck you like his,” he whines. “Letting me get so deep. You’re so good to me.” He swallows, spreading his legs wider so you're pulled tight as a drum. “You’re gonna make me come.” He kisses your pulse point, darting out his tongue to lick your skin and groaning when you shiver. 

He rolls his hips, thrusting up harder, faster, making the bed creak under his strain. He snakes his free hand down your stomach, and for one glorious second you think he’s going to rub your clit. But instead, he spreads his fingers out on either side of it, keeping his palm pressed against your lower belly. 

You gasp. “Marc, please.” 

He moans a response. 

“Please!”

“How much do you want it?” He groans, his eyes dark and hazy. 

“So much, please, please!”

He nips at your shoulder, rolling his hips in an almost hypnotic fashion. “So much, so desperate, you’ll take anything?” 

“Yes!”

“Fuck.” He swallows, the pressure at the base of his spine almost erupting. Without thinking he raises his fingers from your skin and then lightly smacks them down onto your clit. 

You jolt, moaning loudly. 

“Fuck.” He does it again rapidly, smacking with just enough pressure to send a thrill up your spine as he presses. 

You cry out, clenching around him and Marc screams. He comes hard, pulsing and spurting deep inside you as he fills you, whining your name the whole time. 

Quickly, he presses his fingers down, rolling and rubbing your clit in the rapid circles he knows will push you over the edge after him. 

You gasp, tensing and convulsing as you come on his cock and against his fingers. Pleasure floods your veins, whitening out your vision and liquifying your muscles. You moan loudly as he drags your orgasm out, pulling you thin as his thrusts become lazy and sated. 

He can’t help but buck up a few more times, groaning at the thought of pushing his come deeper inside of you. 

Thank you for reading!

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[chapel-of-rizztual]

Awwwhh pack bonding time :’)

Cw: wax play? Inappropriate use of a candle?

Perpetua was told he’d have to do something drastic to get the ghouls to respect him. He’d been around ghouls before, the ministry he’d grown up in had ghouls, but these are his brothers ghouls and they were fiercely loyal to him. He was told that the two Quints and the earth ghoul would probably be the easiest, they’re calm and have been through a change of leadership before. Dewdrop specifically would be a problem. If he got his respect the rest would probably follow. He decided to throw a dinner party for the ghouls, his mothers flair for them had been past down to him and he’s honestly missed them. It would be a great opportunity to get all the ghoul in one place at the same time so het could get to know them as a pack, find out the pack dynamics. He already had the perfect centrepiece in mind.

He ushered the ghouls into the dining hall, clapping excitedly behind them.

“You will love it my ghouls!” He ignores the collective eye roll and the shuffling of feet. “I spent all day preparing something nice for you.”

The small hum in response was anything but positive but he wasn’t going to let them deter him. He knew once they ghouls had seen what he had planned they’d all love it.

The first few ghouls stop in the doorway in shock, looking back at him with wide disbelieving eyes. “Don’t just stand there, go in, all of you in.” He shoos the rest in, closing the door behind him. “Well?” He gestures to the table in front of them all. “Do you like it?”

In front of them is a sturdy dark wooden table, with sturdy wooden chairs to match. The table was set for ten people with delicate china plates adorned with different flowery patterns swirled over them, surrounded by different flowers and candles to decorate the table. The centre is what was catching everyone’s attention. In the centre was Dewdrop. Fully naked, kneeling with his wrists tied to his ankles so his ass was forced high into the air. It wouldn’t have been anything noteworthy, or particularly out of the ordinary for Dew if it wasn’t for the lit candle sticking out of his ass. It was one of the long white ones, one that was used in the chapel and was definitely stolen from there. It was long, long enough that it stuck about five inches out of Dew without knowing how much was inside him. It wasn’t particularly thick, only about two fingers wide, barely enough to stretch him open but the heat from the small flame was enough to make intense. There was already a few beads of wax that had slid down the candle and pooled into Dews sensitive skin. He’d already been here like this for a while.

Aether panics a little, Dews mouth wasn’t gaged so he would be able to speak of his displeasure or discomfort if he wanted but the distant far away look in his eyes was worrying. He taps into his quintessence to feel for Dews emotions, explaining to find panic, maybe fear and a cry for help but instead he found, well, not much really. There was a sense of calm with an underlying horniness but not much of anything else. Whatever this was, Dew had clearly consented. He relaxes, giving a small nod to the rest of the tense group letting them all know it as okay. They all visibly relaxed, the tension in the air shifting into something hotter and more intense.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Perpetua asks the group as he walks around the table so he’s behind Dew. “My masterpiece.” He gestures to Dew.

The whole group nods dumbly.

“How-“ Aether clears his throat when he hears his voice break. “How did you manage this?” He gestures to Dew on the table. “Dew is…well he’s Dewdrop.”

“Oh, it was easy really. He just need a firm hand. Isn’t that right, Dew?” He brings his hand down onto Dews ass and only then does Aether notice the red handprints glowing on each cheek. He’d already figured out Dews weakness.

The slap makes Do gasp and arch up into it. Unfortunately for him it jostled the candle inside him, making the hot wax that pooled in the top drip down the length of the candle until it gets to his sensitive stretched rim. It soaks into the skin, setting and hardening as it does, solidifying around him. Dew squeaks, the feeling of the hot wax on him making his wet eyes roll back.

“Holy shit.” The little quint next to Aether gasps, his eyes wide, his pupils already blown as he follows the bead of wax down the candle. He palms at himself, not very subtlety trying to relieve some of the pressure. Perpetua thinks his name is Phantom. It doesn’t really matter, he already has plans for the little ghoul.

“Please, sit. All of you sit.” He gestures to all of the chairs. “We have a long night ahead of us.”

There’s a sound of chairs scraping against the floor as the ghoul obey him. He stops Phantom from pulling his own chair out.

“Not you. I have something special for to sit.”

Phantom gasps softly and lets himself be lead by the hand to the end of the table. He gets pulled into the older man’s lap, his eyes widened when he feels how hard he is under his ass. “We get the best view in the house.” Perpetua whispers into his ear as he squeezes the little ghouls thighs.

They’re head on with Dews ass. Phantom can see a bead of wax roll over Dews taint and over his balls, stopping and solidifying about halfway down. He nods dumbly, unable to take his eyes away from the scene in front of him.

The table wobbles as everyone moves around it making the candle inside Dew move and drip more hot wax into him. Some lands on his rim, already coated in wax, some makes a river down and drips down into his balls making Dew gasp and his cock twitch.

“Awwhh look.” Swiss coos out, pointing at Dew. He point to his cock, hard and pressed up again his belly, leaking a steady stream of precum onto his belly and the table. “He’s got his own little drippy candle.”

The earth ghoul next to him rolls his eyes and nudges him with his shoulder, but there’s a barely contained smile in his face and a blotchy red blush on his cheeks. A ghoulette at the opposite end of the table purposefully shakes the table with an evil grin on her face making wax splash from the candle into Dew. Some of lands in little pearls on Dews spanked red and already sensitive ass. He lets out a hiccuped sob feeling it land on him, tears spilling from his eyes and onto the table.

Perpetua can’t stop smiling. This is what he wanted. The tension between them had disappeared and turned into something much more pleasant, something lighter and brighter. And hotter

“My ghouls.” He announces. “Tonight we feast in the name of our dark Lord.” He points to Dew. “And worship at his unholy altar.” Dew moans feeling all eyes burning onto him. Perpetua continues. “Tonight we make new bonds, in new loyalty and new leadership.”

The ghouls around him nod in solidarity with him, agreeing with him. Phantom purrs into his neck, not so subtlety grinding down onto him. He flashes them all a smile and Aether swears he could see his white eye glowing but it’s gone within a blink of an eye. “Feast, my ghouls. Feast.” He commands. And feast they do.

[bloodchapell]

castle of sand — senku i. 16: stone world adoption

brief summary: all about baking iron and cooking ramen

what to expect: just fluff, minor mentions of suicide(?)

your sword's note: kinda mixed two different days together but it makes sense better like that in my head so meh, all past and future parts + playlist of this series available on my mistresslist

Manpower was a must-have.

"If I was a villager, I would mind my business and not join us." You said sitting with your arms crossed. 

"Well that's just about what they think." Chrome shrugged. "In your time, how would you get people to do what you wanted?"

"That is in itself a whole discussion. Let's see, pure mutual collaboration and interest, manipulation, torture, slavery, late-stage capitalism, that was the one we experienced." You said with your hand on your chin. "It was a system which originated as a form of exchange, for example say you have this brilliant rock that was really hard to get and its really rare, you would not exchange it for something like a simple plate of food, instead it would hold a higher value. People eventually would have no way to carry all their important objects with them and so, a placeholder for value was created: money, whether it was coins, little circular shaped metals that indicated different values, or bills, made out of paper, a flat material derived from plants. Powerful people would exploit those with less resources and force them to work in order to access necessities like living and food." 

"What, that is bad, not in the good way..." Chrome said, baffled. 

"See how you can just build your own stuff in this world and no one owns anything? In our world, you had to do work in exchange for money, and with that money you could pay the government for a piece of land, you could acquire food that someone else hunted and transported to you, things like that. I do not precisely agree with that economic system, not in a Tsukasa way, but with a more utopian view."

"Damn." Chrome shook his head. 

"It's about balance." You smiled. 

"What a commie." Senku shook his head. 

The day went by slowly. Suika was assigned to spy on the villagers and what they could want in exchange for helping with the hellish oxygenation of the iron sand baking. You came back from the river after a quick shower, drying your hair, and sat in front of Senku so he could brush it with his fingers. He thought again of your hair getting longer, it was something that plagued his mind in a rather simplistic manner, not overly obsessive or subtly, simply prominent and lacking any depth. He brushed your hair, with efficiency, the efficiency of almost a year of doing so every day. 

"I haven't heard you say 'what is it that you are doing' in the longest time." Senku called, pulling your head back so you could look at him upside down. You blinked erratically, then laughed.

"I know what you are up to these days, no need to thread myself like a badly sewn patch onto your activities." You looked at him upside down. "You don't despise me anymore to shush me away, ah, the days of long forgotten loneliness, what a hazy memory of the past, but is it only a memory if the ever-instantaneous moment remains stretched as time blends within itself?"

"Back to the rambles, if you are fully recovered from the hardships of life, how about you make me a sandwich."

"Men used to go to war, you know? Now all they do is complain." You pushed his head. 

"What is a sandwich?" Suika came back rolling around. 

"Suika!" You exclaimed happily, dropping to your knees dramatically to hug her. "Senku, we are inventing bread, Suika wants a sandwich." 

"I thought you were far too young to be a mother and all of that." Senku huffed.

"Well yes but she was born already, there is no sending her back to the children’s factory." You shrugged, taking the girl's hand. "Honestly though, I don't want to take the place of Suika's actual mom."

"I didn't meet my mom or dad." Suika whispered unaffected. You dropped to her feet when hearing that. 

"Suika, let me adopt you..." 

"You are not adopting a kid." Senku intervened immediately.

"That's probably what people told your dad, the only difference is I am not picking up an evil gremlin." 

"Would that really be alright?" Suika asked, probably not understanding what her adoption would entice.

"Of course it would be...." You said defeated on the ground. 

"Okay." With a smile Suika nodded. 

You beamed. 

Kohaku came back from the campfire, and greeted Suika back. Chrome followed after her. 

"I'm adopted!" Suika cheered. 

"Wow, good for you!" Chrome congratulated her.

"Don't encourage this!" Senku yelled. 

"Suika's parents died when she was really, really small, she doesn’t have anyone to take care of her. I think no one is more apt to adopt her, after all it's our dear Kingdom of Science chief, a total professional thinker, a tender and warm person." Kohaku nodded in approval. 

"I am the king of this kingdom." 

It was too late. Senku had to agree to Suika's adoption. 

You all sat by the fire, sharing the fish that Chrome and Kohaku had cooked. Suika shared her intel about what the villagers desired, the sparkly sisters wanted a man, each one specifying what their preferences were. Kind of a dead end with the boyfriend topic, aside from the one who wanted to be fed, which led to Suika mentioning the village glutton wanting more food. 

"If it comes to cooking, I think you got what it takes." Kohaku told you. 

"You cook really well!" Suika also mentioned and Chrome nodded. 

"So what are we cooking?" You asked Senku. 

He stayed quiet for a second, taking his time thinking about what could blow the villagers mind while using the limited resources. It took a while, you didn't disturb his train of thought, and as you waited, Suika introduced her dog to you. You petted it and when it didn't bite you, you were grateful for its trust in you. Senku got distracted by your interaction with the animal, seeing Suika bringing the stem of a plant to play with the dog. He recognized it to be foxtail millet, and explained how something modern could be cooked with it. Kohaku and Chrome agreed, and Suika said she would show you the field where she found the plant in the morning. 

“Goodnight my glorious angel.” You hugged Kohaku, and then knelt in front of Suika. "Goodnight honey, if I could put you to bed I would tell you a bed night story, but I’m sure I will be able to do so later.” You hugged the girl too and she hugged back. 

“You couldn’t even wait until we were actually divorced to make a new family huh?” Senku said with his arms crossed. 

“Well what do you care? Tell that to my lawyer.” You shrugged and he laughed. You both got in the hut. It was organized as always, you laid down but Senku didn’t. “What are you waiting for?”

He stayed quiet and opened the doors of the hut, simply letting the breeze in, his eyes were looking up. “We are back to normality, aren’t we?”

“Oh that, for sure, I had missed it quite a lot.” You sat up and moved to his side by the entrance. “Once again the warmth of home, the sense of calm with the reestablishment of routine, the comfort of stargazing, ah… the summer is approaching, what a hell.”

He shook his head, by that point he was used to it, and had graduated from ramble-ology with honors. Gradually, the exhaustion from the failed iron baking and the lack of proper rest caught up to him, and he started getting closer to the floor after resting on his hands, then on his elbows and finally giving up and laying down, but you patted your legs and after a frown and an eye roll he complied, resting his head on your lap. Almost automatically your hand went to his cheek, caressing it idly while your eyes evaluated the sky in silence. Senku had learned that your silence was as loud as your words sometimes, and he attributed that particular silence to the same exhaustion he had. His eyes diverted back to the sky, but it took more work to look at the stars so he settled on looking at you instead. 

“Why did you adopt Suika?”

“Every kid should have a reliable adult to help them navigate life.”

“You’re barely an adult.”

“I’ll be a bastard and say that between Chrome or Kohaku, I am the best option.” You looked at him and pinched his cheek. “Additionally I am well over millennia old, that shall be enough. Why are you against it, hater? You are adopted too.”

“I would say that being a parent is a lot of responsibility, plus you have known her for two days.”

“Arguably, so is reviving humanity after cataclysm.” You smiled. “Don’t you like single moms?”

“What the fuck…”

“I like you, but my child comes first.” 

Senku laughed. You kept caressing his cheek and looking at the sky. Suika reminded you of yourself as a kid, in an odd way you could not precisely pinpoint. Senku realized too, even plainly from the way Suika would talk about herself, he had seen it before, in you, so it only made sense that you wanted to take care of her, maybe do for her what no one did for you. He sighed, in a manner just like yours, and after a while he pulled your hand. You took a last look at the sky before closing the doors and lying down beside him. 

Once you were lying down too, Senku opened his arms, not in an endearing way, it was more of a ceremonial act, something automatic. 

"We got this, okay?" You said as you hid him in your arms, caressing his hair. "We will cook something amazing, sway the masses our way, save Kohaku's sister, defeat Tsukasa, have Yuzuriha and Taiju back, bring back civilization, all the good stuff. It may feel precipitous or rather untimely, but we surely can, you can, and I will help you along the way too as a dutiful wife who is soon to be your ex-wife, full-time neighbor, first citizen of the kingdom, associate archenemy even, okay? Don't fret, we will sit victorious at the end."

"I'm not fretting." Senku rolled his eyes, his forehead resting against your collarbone, your faint scent making him feel sleepier. 

"Remember that I have known you for virtually most of my life, I came to learn what each twitch of your grimace means, and even so, at the present uncertainty and ominous future, reassurance and support is only logical." You smiled. "I can just feel the uneasiness in you, and since you are embarrassed to engage in normal human socialization and I can't comfort you during the day when we are busy, I will make sure to lift your spirits before we sleep so you don't have more nightmares."

"You won't take no for an answer." Senku said, not a question, a statement.

"That's right! If you really think about it, I'm saving myself, my wife and my daughter from the evil tyrant of the kingdom and his decree of exploitation." You tickled his neck. "Who is also my soon-to-be ex-husband, woah, the dilemmas of the kingdom would entice the best gossip."

"Whatever, just go to sleep. Goodnight."

"You said it first." 

"Shut the hell up."

A few giggles and then you were out cold. He shook his head and slept too, his cheek pressing against you with more consistency than before.

The next day came by fast, Suika knocked on the door of the hut early in the morning, waking you and Senku both. 

"I think it's time we sleep only with our extremities touching, summer is here after all, you are normally cold but oddly warm when we sleep." You said with your eyelids heavy, taking a strand of hair out of your mouth. 

"Ew, stop drooling in your sleep."

"Good morning! Kohaku and Chrome are ready to go to the field." Suika said, opening one of the doors, peeking through the door. "Why aren't you ready? Are you sick so you stay asleep so late?"

You and Senku looked at each other in silence, and got ready in a hurry to not make them wait. The walk was probably the longest part of the journey, Chrome and Kohaku knew some of the spots as you walked around. Suika stopped for a second, leaning down to re-tie her shoes. 

"Do you want me to pick you up?" You asked and she looked confused. 

"Why?" 

"Well, normally that is what people do with kids." You explained and she shrugged. You picked her up and kept walking. "I remember that when I was a kid, my mom made me walk a lot, everywhere, she would get mad if I complained, she walked fast and I couldn't keep up because my legs were too short."

"Do you miss the people from the old world that are statues?" Chrome asked, getting distracted from his conversation with Senku. 

"Not really. Me and my parents didn't get along, and I have no friends." Almost like a reflex you said. Senku frowned. 

"We are your friends now!" Chrome and Kohaku responded immediately. 

"And family!" Suika hugged you. You laughed, but nodded and kept walking, not dwelling much on the topic. 

The field became visible after a while, and once you all reached it, Kohaku started cutting the plants and the rest picking them up. Once the two baskets were full, you walked back to the village and the culinary show started. First, you all had to beat the branches against rocks so the grains could come loose, then wash them, strained it, ground them, and finally mix the powdered flour with eggs to make it into the precise consistency. 

"It is up to you from now." Senku gave you a few bowls and the food, and so you rolled up imaginary sleeves and started working, seasoning, appropriate timing, you even thought of your mom coming home and it made you tweak out but in an efficient way. After an hour or so, the food was ready. 

Suika and Kohaku watched, with a lack of trust in their faces, but Chrome decided to try it, and as expected, his unrefined palate was fascinated, and so was Suika's and Kohaku's.

You smiled pleased, sitting on the ground. You slid a bowl to Senku, and he didn't hesitate to take it. 

"This is horrible..." He sat defeated. "The soup on itself is good, the meat, the vegetables, but these foxtail noodles suck." 

You took the plate and gave it a try, it was like eating grass. 

"It works, we are not recruiting food critics, only primitive people." You patted his back. 

"You are right! Get up citizens! We are building something." 

"Is it a store? A food truck? Delivery app?" You asked excitedly. "I always dreamt of working in a cozy restaurant."

"Food truck, kinda." Senku nodded. After eating, Chrome and Suika went for materials, some bamboo, a pot, cutlery. 

Building the truck took half a day, still shorter than the actual trip to the field of foxtail millet. You cut the bamboo and tied together the wheels, mounted the counter, all while Senku watched and complained about the inefficiency and lack of symmetry despite not participating. 

"I brought this!" Suika showed a seashell with holes, which she started blowing into and making sounds like an ocarina. 

"So this will be our dynamic." You started. "Senku is the greedy business owner who doesn't allow us to eat within premises. I will be store manager, Kohaku is the talkative chef and server, Suika is my child who does homework in the corner and Chrome is the new hire." 

"I like your magic words." Chrome agreed. 

"This is not a school play." Senku scolded.

Soon, the villagers started coming, and you served them one after the other, feeling pleased at their compliments of the food. 

"Look, is the sparkly sisters." Chrome pointed with a gossipy face. "Aren't you jealous that they are flirting with Senku?"

"I am not really a jealous person, but I can see why that would cause jealousy..."

"Why? Is that part of being a thinker?" Chrome asked and you smiled proud at his inquiries.

"Not precisely, I think it is simply within my nature. Regardless, regular people have a hard time fully understanding Senku despite finding him charming, I understand people easily and not only that, I have seen him roll down the hill of insanity and know him as the palm of my own hand, whatever measly conversation he has with someone won't compare to the power and information I have over him."

"Remind me of not getting on your bad side." 

The business was booming, despite no money being involved, you felt satiated with every good verbal review of the food. You took some time to analyze the villagers, who all had very similar characteristics and not much variation, so hence a small genetic pool of ancestors. 

"Ah. This ramen is making me wickedly thirsty. A cola would be great." An unknown voice mentioned. 

"I dislike the idea of soup and soda, get out of my business... No, these innocent people do not know carbonated beverages and their dangerously high sugar levels." You pointed out immediately startled. 

Kohaku, Kinro and Ginro were quick to jump and surround the stranger. Kohaku asked some questions, like if he was with Tsukasa. He introduced himself as Gen Asagiri, and said he was wandering alone, after some back and forth between Kohaku and him, you touched the blonde's shoulder and stepped in. 

"Hey, a beauty! Are you another villager?" Gen asked with a smile, you took his hands.

"Hands too unrefined, for these perfect stitches on your clothes. There are no sewing machines or mass produced pieces in this world, and you don't cut it for having the type of fine motor skills needed. Additionally, if you were truly alone and somehow managed to sew your clothes perfectly, how did you manage to dye your jacket purple? Leather does not normally come in that color, does it? So what natural ingredient did you use?" 

"I used a flower I found around." 

"Lies." You pointed at him.

"I see who you are now! It is a wonder you are alive!" Gen clapped.

"Everyone who eats, works." Senku interrupted and guided the mentalist towards the furnace. His red eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment of the situation. Your eyes pointed to Gen, asking Senku if you should do something, but he scrunched his nose only so slightly, telling you to wait, so you grabbed Suika's hands and sat down overseeing the operations, cutting in slices a peach you had saved up and eating with her, she took the watermelon off her head and ate the slices. Her brown eyes reminded you of someone. 

Senku approached Gen after a while, once he was exhausted from working, a tactic too obvious, but you remained sitting with Suika laying on your lap as you caressed her hair. The conversation was a pain to hear, lacking complexity and the mental games you would have expected from Gen. 

"Taiju's strength seems to never run out, and Yuzuriha is as diligent as ever, but you know that, right Senku?" Gen smiled wickedly despite the physical exertion. 

Suika fell asleep, so you gently put her head on the grass and walked up to Senku. 

"You actually made Tsukasa believe you killed yourself." Gen mumbled as he worked, your attention and Senku's immediately diverting to his words. "His description was oddly accurate, 'calm ethereal girl, with a turmoiled heart, complicated words, even more complicated thoughts', I'd say that's you. Tsukasa talked to me about both of you, and when he sent me to confirm that Senku was dead, he did not ask me to confirm if you were dead or not, it makes sense."

"You know I can see right through you right?" You asked Gen, approaching him more. "So what happened to you? In your childhood? Was it your parents? They didn't take their arguments away from you, was that it? How did you escape? Is this how you cope, with trying to understand the human mind? How many friends would you say you have?"

"My, you are indeed a scary one." Gen smiled, his eyes closed, afflicted by your words. "It takes an insane amount of pain to deduce that so easily, doesn't it?"

"I bow before you at the mutual recognition." You stood your ground, leaving Chrome and Kohaku speechless after the exchange. After asking one of the villagers if they had recuperated their energies, you grabbed Gen by the collar of his clothes and dragged him to a more secluded area, Senku followed along. "What do you want?"

"What do you mean, dear?"

"Confirming a fact you deduced to be true before even engaging is an easy task, so if you bothered playing along with this all is because your twisted mind is turning its gears. Confess, before I beat you up."

"I have a hunch you would." A nervous smile from Gen. "It was indeed easy, but after seeing all of this, if you make iron weapons, who knows who will come on top. I want to be on the winning side."

"I anticipate that you will give me a grandiose fake speech scheme on your lack of morality and shallowness and contrast the good sides of each part. So before I lose my thinning self control, I will leave this to Senku." You gently pulled Senku to your side.

"It is true, that is truly the extent of my concern. On one hand, there's the scientific creations and ramen and all that. But hellish, back breaking work is just not my style. On the other hand, Tsukasa's settlement lacks science and the food is rather plain. But my work is easy. And if I revive a few hot celebs, I could have the harem of my dreams." Gen nodded.

"What's a harem?" Suika asked, appearing by your side suddenly, rubbing her eyes.

"No!" You exclaimed, picking the girl up. "This part is up to you Senku, if it all goes wrong, I will slap him until he is gone for good."

"You should be grateful for having her grant such a mercy, I would not want to be slapped by that iron fist." Senku told Gen as you walked away with Suika, gently telling her that sometimes it was not good to eavesdrop.

Senku and Gen talked, you heard some of it, most of it was irrelevant, aside from a single word: "Generator". Suika asked what that was, and so you explained, but it developed into a series of questions of what that was and that and that; you sighed but smiled, shaking your head and explaining time after time. 

Night fell upon the settlement quickly, and luckily you escaped participating in the iron baking. Once it was time to sleep, you dropped Suika off at the bridge, hugging Kohaku, then the girl, wishing Kinro and Ginro a good night and walking back to the hut. 

"Get off the ceiling, what if you fall?" You shooed at Senku. Then turned to look at Gen. "Sleep under the hut, in case it rains, don't try anything funny." 

"I thought you hated me." Gen pouted.

"If you offend me I won't react, I know me better than you do." You shrugged and climbed the stairs to the hut. "Do not give me a reason to hate you."

"Bad mood?" Senku asked once he got off the ceiling and closed one of the doors of the hut.

"Well naturally..." While sighing like if you were a deflating balloon, you nodded. "It is easy swaying around a bat like Gen, but it makes me uneasy, it feels as if though we have run away, we are within the claws of evil, like a bad curse, ah I wonder what is the reason behind it, bad luck? My brain is tired, but I want to think about everything."

"Do not fry your brain when we need it, as much as it is a bother."

"A bother indeed, take me back to the days of unconsciousness." You extended your hand as your back hit the floor. 

"I have extremely bad luck, but you bring a new variable to the table, what should I call it...? Maybe 'saved by a millimeter', something ridiculous, but seems to have worked out until now, so we will rely on my science brain, whatever your brain runs on and 'saved by a millimeter' and we got it, plus we have the slaves now... I mean, estimated citizens."

"It sounds like a superpower." You yawned, Senku was looking at the stars, you took a lazy glance before closing your eyes to rest for a second only to fall asleep. It was a curious occurrence, even if your body was exhausted, you could stay awake, but if your mind was only slightly tired you needed to sleep immediately. 

Senku sighed when he noticed you had fallen asleep, so he moved you to a comfortable position and laid down too. His eyes stayed open for longer, trying to make sense of the shadows of your face. You were asleep and gone, so his hand climbed to your cheek, and he simply let his fingertips graze your skin like you had done to him the previous night. 

taglist: @thelonestarinthesky, @bookworm-center, @iheartpieck

[sirxlla]

Hi! I got this from your list of prompts which I liked. "They Come Home To You Touching Yourself." with Jon Snow 🤰

Thinking Of Him When He's Not Around

------------------------------------------------

Warnings: SPICY

Prompt: above but I did Jon and Robb 🫶🏻

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

JON: Jon was nervous when he arrived home to hear whimpers and moans. He readied his sword for whatever horrible possibility his brain was conjuring up. He was worried someone might've tied you up or hurt you. He very slowly walks from room to room, clearing them as he goes.

He quietly enters the room to see just what all the ruckus is about: no intruders, no bad guys, just his you out on the bed with your hand between your thighs and your bottom lip between your lips; Jon's face fills with a smirk.

"You know, if I'd've known how eager you were, I might've hurried just a bit quicker on my way back." Jon says, leaning against the door frame, his smirk only growing wider as your skeleton nearly jumps out of your body. Your heart was now racing, not at the thought of him but slight embarrassment and the sudden nature of him being home.

"I-" You start to think of excuses to excuse your behavior as your mother taught you to never do such things, 'a lady should never think of anything deemed crude or sexual.' Jon notices how much you're starting to panic and kneels on the bed.

"Now, I said nothing of the sort that would mean I wanted you to stop." Jon's grin gets wider as he crawls up between your thighs and pulls you into a deep kiss.

"I swear by the gods you're the most beautiful thing to ever grace the seven kingdoms." He gently guides you back down onto the bed, kissing your neck. He made sure you wouldn't be embarrassed about tonight or any other night. After that your choice to indulge yourself with the idea of him.

ROBB: Robb being a King meant he wasn't around often, so he isn't always there when you wanna fool around, so often times than not, you handle it yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Robb made time to see you; he needed to see you. All of the rules and things going on at the moment were making his head spin and you are the only one who ever helps in times like this.

Robb hears moaning and his heart nearly drops...'Had you found another man? Were you cheating on him? No, you wouldn't....would you?' His eyes widen as he enters the room and realizes what's actually happening; you definitely aren't cheating.

"So this is what you do while I am forced to be King?" He puts down his sword near the doorway, smirks and makes his way over to you

"I just don't wanna bother you with how busy you are." You truly didn't want to cause him anymore stress than he was currently under and in your mind bothering your husband for this when he is already quite busy just seemed uncessesary and mean.

He grabs your ankle and pulls your rear to the edge of the bed before kneeling down in front of the bed. Robb grins up at you as he puts your thighs over his shoulders, his gaze brightly beaming into yours.

"Forgive me, I have been neglecting you, My Queen." He massages your thighs before leaving little kisses up your thighs and towards your core. Robb doesn't usually get time to indulge in you but when he does he makes the most of it which ends up in him having to push his prior tasks to later that next evening.

-> Masterlist

-> Send me prompts if you'd like

[confused-and-dickless]

HUNGRY. I WANT FOOD. WHAT DO I WANT. I M TIRED. I NEED TO BE HELD.

[fandomfuntimem]

Dp x dc: batshit crazy driver au.

Bruce hired a new personal driver for the Wayne's. He was a nice enough guy. His grades weren't great, but he was a great driver and very patient. Like, really patient. Like, he is so unbothered by traffic, stupid drivers, and villain attacks, its kinda scary. But all the background checks came back clean. Minus his mad scientists parents, of course.

Daniel (Danny) Fenton. He could relate to any of the Wayne kids and hold an intelligent conversation with Bruce. Bruce feels that he doesn't need to be all Brucie Wayne around the young man. He doesn't know about their nightly activities yet, though. They're not quite sure if he even needs to know.

The first sign there was something more to Danny happened when Tim was sitting in the passenger seat. Tim was struggling with a math problem. It was driving him nuts. It only took a quick glance for Daniel to solve it, though, "it's thirty-six"

"What?"

"The answer is Thirty-six. You forgot to carry the three."

"Huh..."

He was right, Tim made a simple mistake, sure. But that was advanced college level math. Danny was a straight c student and never went to college. It only took him a momentary glance to solve it. Tim, though suspicious, chalked it up to a simple case of gifted kid syndrome. He related to it and began to consult with Danny on some of his math problems. Danny was more than happy to help, for a price, of course.

Then, there was a villain attack. The villain's goons ran rampant through the city, terrorizing anyone unfortunate enough to be outside at the time. But not Danny, they'll tried, oooh they tried. But those goons swiftly found themselves zip tied, in the trunk of a car, and on their way to jail. All while Danny blasted some music by a small artist named 'Ember'.

Alright. He is in Gotham, and his mother was a black belt, so maybe he was just well trained. Its good to know how to deffend yourself.

Then, Damien was kidnapped. It was so fast they barely saw, but a white van sped by and grabbed Damien as he made his way tawords the car. Initially, Damien expected the chauffeur to panic and call the police. But when shouting and cursing were heard from the front seat, and the men in the back slipped the van door open to check behind them, it was revealed Danny had followed them and he had a gun.

What could only be described as an action movie chase scene ensued. Every corner they swerved, every shortcut they took, Danny was right behind them. Driving like a bat out of hell, he shouted and fired at the wheels of the van. Knocking one out, the van swerved and was forced to come to a stop.

A kidnapper grabbed Damien by the hair and held a gun to his head, but before the threat could even leave his mouth a bullet flew through his hand. He dropped Damien and fell to the ground screaming, clutching his hand.

The kidnapper in the van already took off running but was swiftly stopped by Redhood arriving just in time to see Danny helping Damien up and checking him over, profusely apologizing for "letting this happen."

When asked why he did all of it, his simply answered, "I don't think I would get paid if I let Mr. Wayne's kid die! I can't let a kid die in general!"

Bruce, of course, gave the young man a bonus and a few days off for the stunt. Accompanied wlth a few stern words about safety. What was truly remarkable was that there was not a single scratch on the car. Untouched, meaning he never hit anything during the whole ordeal. "I just learned what not to do from my dad!" He joked, but Bruce felt that, despite the clear joking tone, there was some truth to the statement.

The family is suspicious, very suspicious. The man they previously viewed as their simple and humble driver turned out to be a monster of a fighter, and they have no idea how or why.

----------------------‐------

A/N: Feel free to add onto this in any way you would like :3

[femmefruit]

having your dom sit you in their lap with a vibrator pressed between your pussy and their thigh.

a simple enough variation to your usual routine of thigh riding, you let out a pretty sigh and rock your hips forward once before you feel their hands grip your hips to stop you.

“be still for me, baby. no grinding, can you handle that?” you know the sweetness behind the question is all for show, that it’s designed to make you feel small and disgustingly needy. it works. you’re nodding stupidly, already letting the vibrations between your legs overtake your thoughts. they appraise your expression, the way it starts to shift from attentive to blissed out, and turn the vibrator up one setting for good measure. “good, baby. i knew you could do it.”

it’s harder than you thought it would be, holding still through the pleasure. your brain, warm and gooey, keeps trying to urge you into your usual routine of humping away at whatever your partner puts between your legs. every time your hips twitch or shake, their grip tightens around you. you wonder if it’ll bruise. you hope it will. you know you’re getting close, drooling as you kiss and bite at any inch of their skin you can reach without moving your hips. a particularly insistent throb of your pussy threatens to drag you down into an orgasm, and you remember your manners at the last second.

“can i cum?” shakier than you would’ve liked, followed by a long moan. a beat of silence hangs in the air as you realize the answer, but it doesn’t stop you from pleading again, “can i? please?”

“no, baby. wait.” your ensuing cries are hushed, one hand coming up to stroke your hair gently as though you’re not being tormented. you wind up to object again but you’re silenced by a tug on your hair that forces you to look them in the eye. “quit, baby. you know you like how it makes you feel, so wait.”

your cheeks flush hot at the accusation, knowing how much truth it held. your eyes start watering as you try to look for a way out, knowing just by their tone that this will not be a time where you could get away with cumming on accident. you drop your head to their shoulder and try to lift your hips, only to be forced back down onto the toy. your brain vaguely registers the instruction to “sit your ass down and be still,” but it’s nearly drowned out by the wail you let out as you connect with the vibrator again. you start shaking your head, pushing back against their chest in an effort to separate yourself from the overwhelming pleasure while your hips stay locked in place by strong hands. how long have you been holding this orgasm? a few minutes? seconds? it feels like it’ll never end, like you’re letting them dangle you over a cliff for their own pleasure, watching you fight and cry while you try your best to follow the instructions given.

they pull back again to admire the distress on your face, letting out a pleased hum at the state you’re in. you’re whimpering constantly, head resting pitifully on their shoulder. they know they could stay there forever, keeping you desperate and pliant as you pant into their neck. they give an experimental bounce of their leg that sends you into another fit of moaning and begging.

“please, please! i need to cum, daddy. i wanna be good but i’m going to cum, can’t hold it anymore. need you to say yes,”

the grin that spreads across their face could only be described as lecherous, listening to the way they’ve absolutely ruined you. they have to get in close to your ear to ensure you hear, holding you still through the fight you’re still putting up as they press a kiss against your temple. “go ahead baby, give it to me,” they groan out, hearing your moans start to pitch up before they even get the sentence out. as if you needed any help to ride it out, they press you down harder against the vibrator, coaxing out sob after sob as your orgasm tears through your body.

“shh, baby, i know. it’s good isn’t it? why don’t you do it again for me since you were so well behaved?”

[gloomwitchwrites]

How about some silliness.....reader/you is superrr drunk from a night out with friends or high from anesthesia and the guys are trying to take care of them and we are all like "get your hands off me or my husband will kick you ass!" Or "omg you're so hot are you single??"...and they are just dying laughing like "I am your husband!"

I just watched one too many tik toks of this 😂🤣

Oh, I love this. I don't think I've actually seen these videos before (at least on TT) but I do know what you're talking about. Maybe I've seen it more in other media? Like movies and television? Anyway, I understand what you're asking for, so I hope you enjoy what I've cooked up!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, established relationship, fluff, mild alcohol use, shenanigans due to drunkenness & anesthesia

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John stands beside you on the passenger side of the car. The car door is open, and all you need to do is slide inside. Instead, you’re arguing with him, insisting that you can get in yourself, and that you don’t need help.

“You just had surgery,” chides John.

“Minor surgery,” you correct.

“It’s still surgery.” John sighs, and then places his hand on your back. “Let me help you.”

“Hands off, sir. You’re not my husband.”

John does not move his hand. “I don’t remember us getting a divorce, love.”

You wave him off and John snorts. “He’ll kick your ass,” you insist. “Punch you right in the nose.”

John’s stern demeanor cracks, dissolving into a wide smile and a soft chuckle. He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m your bloody husband. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“I’m serious,” you say. Turning, you attempt to jab him in the chest with your finger. Everything tilts, and you only hit air.

John sighs, exasperated. “Get in the car, love.”

“No,” you groan, pushing at his chest. You surrender to him, allowing John to help you into the front passenger seat.

“I hope you remember this after the drugs wear off.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You’ve been out with your friends all evening, and you have no idea what times it is. It’s dark, and you didn’t leave until the bar closed, forcing you to make an exit. Someone called for a car, and you all piled in, dropping each of off one by one.

As you enter the dark bedroom, you kick off your shoes, slightly stumbling to turn on the bedside light. You turn it on, and immediately wince. Vision swimming, you rub at your eyes, and then notice the massive lump in your bed.

“Turn off the bloody light, will you?” mumbles Johnny.

A devious plan forms in your head.

You climb onto the bed, crawling toward him. Noticing, Johnny turns toward you, eyes dreary with sleep.

“What?” he asks just before you flop your entire body onto him.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he deadpans.

You wiggle over him, pressing the tip of your nose against his. “You seeing anyone, handsome?”

Johnny arches an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something? I am your husband.”

“Lucky me.”

Johnny blows raspberries. With one good shove, he flips you onto your back on your side of the bed.

“Go to bed. You’re drunk.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Your liquor-addled brain tells you to do it.

Across the bar is danger, the kind you want to play with—to sink your teeth into. Why resist temptation when it’s clear that the masked man across the bar can’t seem to take his eyes off you? Every time you glance in his direction, his gaze is focused and intense, daring you to approach him.

Which is exactly what you do.

He follows your every step, even if there is a slight sway in the way you walk. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, legs widening as if in welcome. It’s easy to reach out, to place your hand on his shoulder, to straddle his thighs, and stare into his eyes.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” you slur. “Plan on going home with anyone?”

“I am,” the masked man replies.

“And who might that be?”

“My wife.”

You turn in his lap, looking around at all the other patrons in the bar. “Don’t see her.”

“Course you don’t,” he chuckles. “Because she’s sitting in my lap.”

You blink. “Is she?”

“You’re my wife,” he whispers.

“I am…aren’t I?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cutting you off.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The alcohol is an enabler. You shouldn’t have had as many drinks as you did, but this is a party, and you’re not the one driving.

Why not have a bit of fun?

“Hi.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow. “Hi,” he replies, drawing out the greeting in slight confusion.

You cozy up next to him, shoulder brushing against shoulder.

“So,” you begin, head tilting toward him like you’re about to whisper all your secrets. “I’m going to be a bit bold…”

“Go on.”

“But I think you’re cute. Wanted to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

Kyle’s single raised eyebrow becomes two. There’s a long pause, so long that you notice the absence of conversation.

Kyle’s confusion cracks, becoming a wide smile, followed by his adorable, familiar laughter. “You’re taking the piss, love.”

“I’m not joking.”

He laughs harder, clutching his chest like he can’t breathe.

“I’m your husband,” he manages to say between wheezing breaths.

“I know,” you reply. “Just checking to make sure you’re still loyal.”

He waves his hand in the air before him. “You’ve had enough. Give me that.” He plucks your beverage right out of your hands.

“Excuse me,” you protest, but Kyle is already downing it.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[eloquentlytired]

Logan with a breeding kink fic? 😉

18+ mdni

— raw.

pairing: logan howlett x fem reader

word count: less than 900

tags: unprotected sex — breeding — logan is feral — just filthy smut — risky sex — dom/sub undertones

author’s note: hi anon I hope this was a good read for you. logan having a breeding kink is so incredibly canon honestly

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“lo.” you moan as you lie facedown on the bed, legs straight, hips slightly raised. logan enters you from behind and the way he stretches you in this position has you whimpering. one of his large hands puts weight on your head and forces you to bury it against the bedsheets as you sob beneath him. his other hand stays on your middle to kind of support himself as he fucks you, driving his veiny cock into your deepest parts. the bed creaks beneath your moving bodies but you don't seem to care. logan grunts as he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, coating it too with your arousal. “still taking your pills like a good girl?” the shake of your head makes his hips slow down and gradually stop. you tilt your head at an awkward angle to stare at him and he stares back. “w—we ran out.” you whisper, voice still laced with arousal and need. logan weighs his options as his eyes drift downwards where his cock is completed soaked by your wetness and even his pubic hair drip with the doings of your pussy. his bare cock twitches inside you and you moan. “not safe,lo. let's just—”

there's not much you can do in this position when logan starts thrusting again. you take what he gives you and your eyes roll back when the fat head of his cock kisses your sweet spot, making your entire body shake all over. tears of pleasure slide down your cheeks and he leans down to kiss a tender spot on your shoulder before biting down. he grounds his hips in circles and you almost scream. “there— there,lo.” you beg him and he repeats the motion again and again. when your pussy tightens around him as you cum, logan growls into your shoulder and you can sense him growing more feral over you. your hands grip onto the bedsheets for dear life as you drool and cry against the mattress. logan drives his cock faster inside you and a few more thrusts later he fills you up, leaning the weight of his lower body on yours that his cock nudges impossible places within you. it makes you squirm and logan offers you a reassuring kiss as he pants against your shoulder, trying to process the raw feel of your walls around his bare girth.

“fuck.” you hear him curse minutes later and when you look back, your eyes widen. logan slips his softening cock out of your pussy and watches as his own come drips out and over your cunt. you exchange a silent and long stare and then logan is moving you again. you don't know what's happening or why but you're about to.

you've lost count and you've also lost any sanity left for the time being. you drag a hand over your belly as logan pumps his load inside you again, making your thighs shake from where they sit atop his own. you're laying on your back this time while he gets comfortable between your spread legs, breeding you until the late hours. “one last time. I swear,baby.” he lies through his teeth again and you allow it. logan slips his hands underneath your legs and shoves them back until your knees are nearly touching your chest. his cock is still hard and leaking — he'd really done it this time — and he wants to blame your bare cunt for wrapping around his cock so perfectly. you're tired and your pussy feels a little sore but you can't help but reach a wandering hand to your clit and rub it as logan fucks you mercilessly. his balls are heavy and drag against you with each shallow thrust. your entire body shakes and your other hand remains atop your stomach; you're full, so full, and your toes curl when you think about how much of logan’s seed you've stored in your womb.

“lo—” you're letting go again, your entire body spasming as your fingers shake against your swollen clit. logan’s eyes narrow when he watches you squirt beneath him and one of his hands is moving down to toy with your pussy, his fingers moving past yours and past your clit to tease the source of your squirt. it makes you cry and nearly scream. logan feels his balls tighten and before you know it he's already giving it to you again, spilling everything inside your pussy to make it full. to make his seed take place. “lo.” by the time you call for him he's already slipping a hand around your nape, clutching it, while his other hand joins your own on top of your stomach.

your lips meet and logan soothes you. “so pretty, so sweet. you took so much in ya, princess.” and his whispers make you tremble even more as you kiss him back slowly. his kisses are nothing like the way he fucks you; they're slow, patient and gentle. logan hums into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck. his fingers flex upon your stomach, even doing so much as squeeze it. he loves it. “how ‘bout we forget about those pills?” logan growls.

his cock doesn't stay soft for long and when his hand presses into your tummy possessively, you know exactly what awaits you.

[teaboot]

I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?

Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.

Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.

Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.

Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.

Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.

Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.

Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.

Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.

Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.

Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.

Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.

Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.

Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.

Dont let them free roam. At all.

I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...

I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.

Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck

Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane

Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess

Here, have an Ollie Pic

[imaginedisish]

Everlong (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: This was not a request, just a thought I had and had to get out. "Everlong" by Foo Fighters just scratches my brain in a way very few songs can, and it fits perfectly for this fic. Hope you guys enjoy.

Summary: Logan offers you his bed as a friend, knowing how hard it is for you to fall asleep alone. But after months of sleeping next to him platonically, things finally take a turn...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT! Thigh riding, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Cockwarming, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, non-sexual intimacy to sexual intimacy, friends to lovers, man-handling, rough sex, afab!reader/f!reader, feelings, fluff, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,619 jeeeeeeezzzzz this is DEPRAVED

Sleep was hard—that is, until you started sleeping in Logan’s bed. 

It had all started out so innocent. You were sitting on a couch in the study, flicking through the pages of your favorite book. You had just finished your fourth lap around the grounds of the mansion, and you decided you needed a break. The clock on the wall read 2:22 AM, mocking you, reminding you that of all the gifts you have, sleeping would never be one of them. 

“What’re you doing awake?” You jumped at the voice breaking up the silence, but quickly recognized its bassy, deep tone. You turned to face Logan in the doorway. 

“Just can’t sleep,” you answered, shrugging your shoulders. He wore a beater and gray sweatpants, and you struggled against the urge to trail your eyes up and down his body. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him—you’ve wanted him for months. 

Logan crossed his arms against his chest and smiled softly. “Can’t sleep either,” he said, taking a step closer. “You can come up to my room, if you want” he offered. “Next time you can’t sleep, or you have a nightmare, or you just can’t think of anything to do, come find me.”

You smiled at his words, at his kindness, at his willingness to help you. “Thank you, Logan,” you whispered. 

“No problem, princess.” And then he turned to leave, walking back through the hallway and up the stairs to his room. 

You’re still not sure what came over you in those following moments—still don’t understand where your confidence came from—but you forced yourself up from the couch and down the hall, following Logan’s path to his room. 

He was already inside, already had the door closed, so you knocked. And the door immediately swung open. You swallowed, parting your lips nervously. “Lo, do you think I could take you up—”

But he didn’t even let you finish. He grabbed your arm and tugged you into the darkness of his room, navigating you carefully to his bed. He laid you down and walked to the other side, climbing in next to you. He brought the covers over your bodies, shuffling under the sheets, settling in, and then everything was silent. 

You tried to get comfortable. You rolled onto your stomach and waited, eyes shut tight, hoping that sleep would take you under its current. But it didn’t. You rolled back onto your side, away from Logan, opening and closing your eyes frustratedly.

“You okay?” He asked. You could hear Logan inching towards you, his front suddenly pressing against your back. 

You hummed in affirmation, leaning your back into him. He reached a tentative arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest. “Is this okay?” He husked, his lips at the shell of your ear. 

“Yeah,” you panted into the darkness of his room, taking shallow breaths, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You could smell him everywhere—on the sheets, the pillowcase, in the air of the room. It was all leather and musk and pine and denim. And there he was, holding you, his thumb drawing soft circles into your slightly exposed midriff. Something about it was overwhelming, but also comforting, as though all your senses were being cradled by him.

He could hear your heart beating, could hear your breath catching in your throat. “Relax,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. Go to sleep.” Your eyes fluttered closed, and you focused on Logan’s breathing. It was constant, stable, steadfast. He was so warm, so solid. And soon enough, you found yourself giving in to sleep. 

You woke up a few hours later, the pale light of the moon still pushing through the curtains. Logan’s legs were tangled with yours, your face pressed into the center of his chest, his arm wrapped around your back, holding you tight. You tried to lift your head to read the clock behind you on the nightstand.

But Logan pulled you back down. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured against the crown of your head. “Too early.” 

That’s how most nights have been since then—climbing into his bed, completely innocently, just to be able to sleep. He holds you all night, keeping you close. And when the sun finally rises, you both get up and head down to the kitchen, watching as Logan brews you a pot of coffee. 

It’s shockingly domestic and incredibly intimate. And yet, the two of you have never talked about it. It’s a silent agreement, one based on pattern, convention, and repetition. These very events have played out more times than you can count—for months now. It has become so normalized that you don’t question it, don’t even think about it when you crawl into his bed, and he pulls you into his chest. 

So, tonight starts out like any other. Your feet pad along the dark, mahogany wood floors, down the dim, quiet hallway, towards Logan’s room. You’re only wearing a pair of panties and one of Logan’s old t-shirts, the hem falling to the middle of your thighs. 

You stand in front of his door and knock. You aren’t nervous anymore—aren’t anxious as he opens the door. He’s already shirtless, wearing just his boxers—which, however, is something you will never get used to. He smiles, his eyes trailing up and down your body as he steps to the side, inviting you in. 

You know the drill by now—you walk to your side of the bed, lying down and pulling the covers up to your chin. Logan follows suit. You move in silence, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s a silence shared by two people who don’t have to say a word, don’t have to communicate to feel connection. His arms wrap around your body, and he tugs you into his chest. 

“Didn’t see you today,” he mumbles, his lips brushing your forehead. “Wish I could’ve.” His fingertips graze up and down your back, your t-shirt hitching up as you get comfortable, revealing your bare legs. 

“I’m here now,” you whisper, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, smelling him, letting him overtake your senses. He tangles your legs with his.

“Is this my shirt, by the way?” he asks, his hands sliding down to the hem, which is now bunched up above the waistband of your panties. 

You smile into his neck. “Maybe,” you answer, giggling softly. 

His fingertips slip just under the t-shirt, tentative and hesitant, waiting for you to push him away, to tell him no. But you don’t. “Looks better on you than it does on me,” he husks, his thigh settling between your legs so that you’re straddling it. 

“Th-thanks,” you stutter, trying to ignore the way he bumps against your core, the way his words make your heart race. You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around his center, letting him engulf you in his warmth. You swallow your feelings down and close your eyes. “Night, Lo,” you mutter.  

“Night, princess,” he says, his lips against the crown of your head. 

You listen carefully to his breathing, like you always do, and after a few moments, you find yourself falling asleep.

When you wake up a few hours later, your back is against Logan’s front. His arm keeps you pressed tightly to his chest, his nose nudging against the crook of your neck—you can feel his breath, warm on your skin. Your legs are intertwined, his knee just inches away from your core. 

Logan moves in his sleep, his knee bumping against your core now, his nose nuzzling into your neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just under your ear. You take a deep breath, pleasure pulsing between your thighs as Logan moves again, his thigh dragging against you. You can’t help the moan that falls from your lips. 

He moves again, and that’s when you feel it—his erection stiff against the curve of your ass. Heat spreads across your chest, up to your neck, your stomach somersaulting as his hips press harder into your ass.

“L-Lo,” you stutter into the darkness of his room. But he doesn’t answer. His thigh slides against your core again. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, soaking your panties. “Logan,” you choke, moaning louder this time.  

He hums in response, nuzzling his nose deeper into your neck, his lips pressing against your skin—the ghost of a kiss. It’s too much—you want to grind down on his thigh, want to feel his cock pressing against your ass, want to feel his hips rutting against yours. You thought maybe this would happen, hoped that one night would lead to something like this, but you never dreamed it would actually come to pass. 

Logan’s thigh rubs against your heat again, and you mumble his name, your breathing quickening. “Fuck,” you groan, involuntarily bucking your hips against Logan’s. His erection drags along your ass. 

You force yourself to be still as Logan grunts into your neck. “You awake, pretty girl?” He whispers against your ear. 

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to play half-asleep. You don’t want to let on that you can feel him hard against you, and you pray you aren’t soaking through your panties and onto his thigh. 

You swear you can hear him mumble a soft fuck under his breath. Your thoughts race around your head. Maybe he was awake the whole time. Maybe he felt your hips roll against him. Maybe he can smell the arousal growing between your thighs. You know he can hear your heart hammering against your ribcage. 

But his arm tightens its grip around your waist, and he pulls you closer, holding you down against his thigh. “What were you doing, sweetheart?” He rasps, pressing a true, open-mouthed kiss to your neck. You gasp, a shiver running down your spine. 

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stutter, stumbling around your words as he kisses your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just under your ear. 

He moves his knee, pressing harder into your core, dragging his thigh against your aching heat. You stifle a moan as he repeats the motion. “Felt you riding me, pretty girl,” he huffs, his hands gripping your waist, guiding your hips along his thigh. “Smelt you, too,” he whispers, his lips still at your neck. “Can feel that pretty, wet pussy dripping on me, darlin’.”

“Logan,” you whine, letting him move your hips back and forth. The pressure feels so good. You need more. “Please…” You trail off, grinding down onto him. 

“Making a fucking mess of me, aren’t you?” He teases, his fingers gripping your hips like iron, so tight he might bruise. “Love watching you get off on me.” His voice is dark and honeyed, smooth like expensive liquor. Your walls clench around nothing as your clit drags along Logan’s thigh and you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “So sensitive, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, letting him pull you back and forth. You’ll take anything you can get—anything he’s willing to give to you. “D-don’t stop,” you beg. 

“Fuck,” Logan grunts. “Need me that bad, huh?”

“Y-you have no idea,” you stammer. He bites your pulse point as one of his hands wraps around your front, slipping inside your panties and finding your clit. “Oh fuck, Lo,” you whine, the pads of his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles around the bud. 

“That feels good, pretty girl?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and he’s getting off on it. You can feel his erection hard against your ass every time his hips buck into yours. “Bet it does, the way you’re soaking my thigh.”

“So fucking good,” you whimper. But you know you need more. You need him. “Logan, please…” You trail off, the words escaping you as pleasure pulses through your body. 

“Please what, darlin’?” He teases, his fingers pulling out of your panties, his hands gripping your hips again, rolling you against his thigh. It’s not enough, and you groan at the loss of contact. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“N-need more,” you croak, dragging yourself along him. 

“More what, beautiful?” But you know he knows. You know he wants to hear you beg for it, wants to hear you beg for him. 

“More of you,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” He chides, slowing the roll of your hips with his iron grip. “More of me how?” He’s so goddamn cocky, so unfair. 

“I-I…” your eyes roll back into your head as he slowly, teasingly drags you up his thigh, pulling you against his erection and holding you there. “However you want me,” you whisper, pushing against his cock. “Just want you.”

He suddenly pulls away, his grip on your hips forcing you into the mattress as he rolls on top of you, caging you in, his hands on either side of your head. 

Logan’s lips crash down onto yours, swallowing you hungrily, his teeth grazing your lower lip and licking away the pain. You part your lips, inviting him inside, tasting his tongue against yours. He slides a hand down your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt and yanking it up. He breaks the kiss to slip the shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. He sits up on his knees, his eyes trailing your body, settling on your bare breasts. 

“So fucking beautiful,” Logan praises, lowering down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand glides up your side and to your breasts. He palms your flesh, rolling his thumb over your pebbled nipple, pinching lightly. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” He traces across the valley of your breasts, his hand massaging the other side. 

He grinds his hips into yours, his erection nudging against your core. “Wanted you so bad, pretty girl,” he pants, pressing another kiss to your lips. His fingertips drag down your body, gripping your hip tightly again. “Dreamed of fucking you, of tasting you.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck as he pushes you into the mattress, biting down on your pulse point. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

You moan as he sucks at your sensitive skin. “Want you, Lo. Need you,” you whine, your arms wrapping around his back, nails digging into his skin. “Always wanted you.”

He kisses a trail down your neck, to your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. He slides down your body, peppering light kisses across your stomach, stopping at the hem of your panties. He looks up at you, his face illuminated by the pale, blue moonlight. You can see the desperation in his eyes, the need. He licks his lips—a man starved—as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. 

He tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor, and settles between your thighs. His face is just inches from your aching heat. Your chest heaves as he brings himself closer, his breath fanning across your cunt. You look down at him and find him staring up at you, watching your every move. 

“Wanna know what you taste like, darlin’,” he huffs, his palms splaying on your inner thighs, spreading your legs wide open for him. “Want me to make you feel good?” His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs possessively. 

“Y-yes,” you stammer, already arching your back off the mattress. “Please, Logan.”

He smiles, his eyes still trained on yours as his tongue swipes through your folds, long and slow, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck,” he mumbles against your core, flicking your clit, lapping at it twice before starting all over again. He licks another teasing stripe through your folds, landing on your clit and taking the bud between his lips this time. He sucks roughly, releasing your clit and swirling soothing circles around it. “You taste so perfect. Better than I ever imagined.” 

He laves at you, devouring you, his head buried against your cunt. His right hand climbs up your inner thigh, nearing your folds as his teeth graze your clit. Your hips jolt back at the sudden feeling, and Logan is quick to slide his left hand under your thigh. He grips tightly, yanking you back to him, and pressing his face deeper into your cunt. “Don’t even think about it, pretty girl. You’re not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.” 

You moan at his words, his right hand finally working its way up to your folds. His fingertips find your entrance, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, prodding your slit. “Want my fingers, darlin’?”

“Yes, Lo, please. Want all of—” He thrusts two long, thick fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Oh, fuck,” you cry out as he pulls out and slams back in. 

His tongue swirls around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud every time he takes it between his lips to suck. It’s overwhelming, overstimulating, the way he laps at you, drinking you in, consuming you. If he could find a way to keep your taste on his tongue all day, he would. If he could slip under your skin to be one with you, to feel your warmth, he would. You know this isn’t want. This isn’t lust. This isn’t some one-off thing. This is need. This is longing. 

Your eyes roll back into your head as he breathes you in, his tongue working at your clit as his fingers thrust in and out, dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you. “Doing so good for me, sweetheart,” Logan praises, and you clench down around him at the words. He smiles against your cunt. “You like that, don’t you? Like when I tell you just how good of a girl you are.” 

Your walls flutter around him again. “I-I do,” you admit, your voice shaky as he fucks into you, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his fingers. 

Logan chuckles darkly, the reverberation pulsing against your clit. “That’s my good girl, giving me what I’ve been waiting for,” he huffs, lapping at you, sucking on your clit like it’s candy. “Would’ve waited forever for you.”

Your muscles contract and release at his words, at the intimate confession. “Would’ve waited forever for y-you too,” you whimper, his fingers still working you open. You’re so close. Fire burns at the base of your spine, your walls clenching around Logan’s fingers again as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles into your bud. 

“No more waiting, beautiful,” Logan grunts, and you know what he means—he knows you’re close. “Wanna feel you come around my fingers, wanna taste it.” It isn’t a request; it’s a command. His fingers plunge deeper, his tongue laving at your clit roughly between sentences. “Know you’re ready to let go, sweetheart. Don’t hold back. Come for me.”

You’re crashing down, falling, but not into nothingness—into Logan, into his warmth, into his touch. Your chest heaves and the room spins. Heat pours from deep at the bottom of your belly, fire spreading up your spine. Nothing has ever felt like this. His name is the only thing you can think, the only thing you can say: Logan Logan Logan Logan. 

His pumps slow down, his fingers dragging gently along your inner walls until he stills inside you and carefully pulls out. His tongue is still lapping at you, still working your overstimulated clit. 

“Logan,” you whine, your hands finding his head, digging your nails into his scalp. “Want you.”

He smirks against you, knowing full well what he’s doing. “You have me, darlin’.”

You groan, half in frustration, half in pleasure—the tension building back up between your thighs with every flit of Logan’s tongue. “Please,” you beg, tugging on Logan’s hair. He grunts at the feeling, smiling against your cunt again. “I want you, Logan.”

“Gotta be more specific, pretty girl,” he huffs, his face finally separating from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, his lower lip. He brings his fingers to his mouth as he waits, wrapping his lips around his fingers and sucking, savoring the taste of you. 

“Want you inside me…” You trail off, watching as his fingers pop out of his mouth, his tongue darting out along his lower lip, rationing every drop of you he can find. “Want your cock,” you finally choke out.

The corner of Logan’s mouth turns up, his fingers hooking into his boxers and tugging them down. “Wanna fuck you so bad, beautiful,” he grunts, his cock springing free, bouncing against his stomach. He’s so much bigger than you had anticipated. You swallow nervously as he lowers himself down over you, resting on his forearm. “Thought about this for so long.”

His hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding himself to your folds. He swipes through you, spreading your slick, notching against your clit. You moan at the contact, your chest coming flush with Logan’s as your back arches off the mattress. “Logan, please,” you beg. “Just want you. Only ever gonna—”

He plunges deep inside you, down to the hilt with one thrust. You’ve never felt so full—his cock thick and long, splitting you open. His presses a kiss to your lips, swallowing your moans as his tongue darts out, tangling with yours. He’s still inside you, stretching you out, allowing you to adjust to the size of him. “You okay, pretty girl?” He asks as his lips part from yours.

“Y-yes,” you stammer, your arms wrapping around his back. “Feels good. So big.”

Logan pulls out and thrusts back in, splitting you open again. “Fuck,” he groans, his forehead resting against yours. “So fucking perfect. So tight, so warm. Made for me, darlin’.” Your eyes flutter open and closed as his free hand slips between your bodies, quickly finding your clit. 

“Lo,” you whine as his fingers draw tight, rapid circles into the bud. He sets his pace, pumping in and out of your cunt with reckless abandon. His hips rock against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing along the walls of the room. 

“Knew you’d feel like this,” Logan soothes, flicking your clit as he fucks into you. “Knew you’d feel this good. Wanna be inside you forever, princess.”

His lips find yours again, his teeth tugging on your lower lip and then sucking the pain away. It’s rushed and frantic, like he’s dying for more, searching for a way to reach deeper inside you, to feel all of you at once. 

He ruts into you, his hips snapping, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. He pinches your clit roughly, and your back arches off the mattress, your chest pressing against his. 

“No idea how much I wanted you…” You trail off as his cock pounds into you. He’s still stretching you out, still working you open. 

Logan moans your name, his cock throbbing at your words. “Wanted to fuck you that first night you came in here,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. “Wanted you before that too. Knew I needed you the second I saw you.”

The confession rocks through you. You think of all those nights spent next to Logan, all those stolen moments. He wanted you—needed you the whole time. 

“Lo,” you hiccup, his fingertips swirling your clit, his hips rocking against yours. He sinks deep inside, again and again, pumping in and out. Your walls flutter around his cock, dragging him in deeper. 

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he groans, sliding out and plunging back in. “Squeezing me so good, taking me so well.”

Tears brim in the corners of your eyes at the pure pleasure drumming through your bones. You know you’re close, know you’re almost unraveling underneath him. Logan flicks your clit, drawing hard, rough strokes around the bud. You’re on fire, and you’re burning for him. 

“Logan I-I…” You stumble around your words, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pounds into you. Your walls flutter around him again, and his cock twitches inside you at the feeling. 

He groans, your name on his tongue like a prayer. “I know you’re close, pretty girl.” He throbs inside you, and you know he’s almost there too. “Wanna make you come again,” he grunts, pulling out and pumping back in. “Know you have another one in you, sweetheart.”

He’s right. You can’t hold on much longer, but you want this moment to last. You want to feel his cock dragging along your walls, filling you up, splitting you open. You want his chest flush against yours. You want to feel the way he bites your lip and sucks away the sting he leaves behind. You want it all—all of him—and you don’t just want it right now. You don’t want this to be a fleeting moment. You want it to be forever. 

“Come on, beautiful,” Logan pants, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He twitches inside you again. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He strokes your clit, drawing those quick circles into the bud. “Let go for me. Know you want to,” he breathes, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words overwhelm you, and you let go. It’s all more forceful this time, more powerful, your body trembling, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as wave after wave of pleasure tears through your body. It feels like blinding, searing heat, spreading like a forest fire. 

Logan is right behind you, moaning your name, his cock throbbing against your walls. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” he husks, his chest heaving. You whisper a soft, pleading yes. “Fuck, gonna make you mine,” he moans. His cock throbs again, and then he’s spilling inside you, filling you with his release. 

His fingers rub gentle strokes into your clit, his cock slowly pumping in and out before stilling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his hand traveling up your body, and rolling you over so that you’re side by side, facing each other. He pulls you into his chest, his cock still deep inside you. 

Logan’s arms wrap around your back, caressing your bare skin, tracing patterns and shapes with his fingertips. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head as you bury your face into his chest. 

“Wanna stay inside you,” he mumbles against your hair. “Wanna keep you close.”

“You can,” you whisper, your heart hammering. “Wanna stay close, too.” 

He presses another kiss to your head. “I’m not going anywhere,” Logan soothes, his fingers running up and down your spine. “Gonna want you forever.” 

You lift your head to look up at him, his eyes immediately meeting yours. “Forever?” You ask, but you know it’s a dumb question. You know he’s telling the truth.

He smiles and nods. “Would’ve waited for you forever,” he says, pausing, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Never felt this way before, pretty girl. Never felt this real, this perfect. Don’t wanna let you go.”

“Don’t,” you whisper into the darkness of his room. “Please.”

“I won’t,” he coos, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I won’t.”

His breathing steadies, and you listen to him like you do every night. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drift off to sleep with Logan’s cock deep inside you.

Forever. You think as your mind goes quiet and sleep drags you under. Forever. 

Everlong.   

tags: @ricefordays-blog1 @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @starrdustss @wittyjasontodd @pedrohoe04 @fanfic-writing-barbie @evasmlp @derbygracie @cosmiccandydreamer @honeyfewr @movhoney @manipulatour @rammakela *I am so sorry if I forgot to tag you*

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 11 — BREEDING

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — heizou, neuvillette, wriothesley, albedo

— warnings. — fem! reader, breeding, lots of cum n spit, hitting it raw, petnames used: darling, baby, rough syx

⚝ — HEIZOU

it's addiction, a form of fixation and heizou doesn't stop until you're crammed full of his cum— literally as his fingers spread his seed from your lips down to your chin to watch it mark you, your tears mixing in as he presses his thumb past your tongue, just to see how far you'll take it.

"you're a damn masterpiece," heizou coos, tilting his head with a grin that's not just wicked— it's fanatical, wild, the kind of grin a man gives when he's long past the point of reason and fully drowning in sexual passion. his fingers were still wet with you, his knuckles glistening, and yet he kept them poised just out of reach, just enough to make you twitch, grind, gasp like you're coming undone without him even touching you.

"look at you," he drawls, voice so sweet you'd never tell he's feigning innocence, "quivering mess for me already? you don't even know what to do with yourself, do you?"

without looking away once, the detective watches— fixated as your thighs tremble, as your hips lift just barely from the mattress, chasing friction like you'll die if you don't get it, body slick and aching, soaked enough to stain the sheets beneath you— and archons, does it make him smirk wider, you feel it, the raw sting of overstimulation threading through your gut, curling your toes, making your stomach pull tight with the weight of everything he isn't letting you have.

"fuck, i knew you'd take it all baby," heizou's already painted you in his spit and cum— yet it's still not enough, it never was— instead, he pulls his cock from your tightness just to smear the tip over your swollen entrance, patting his dick on your folds, laughing breathlessly when it makes a filthy squelch, "this mess? this is mine, mine, gonna fuck it into you until it's leaking out onto the sheets, no one else gets to see you like this,"

and the detective makes sure of it— everlastingly keeping you plugged full of his slender fingers, thick cock and tongue and when you cum again, after he's bred and bred and bred you the entire night, you're spasming and gushing so violently it splatters all over the sheets. yet he doesn't stop, instead, heizou just shoves his cock back in deeper, harder until you writhe beneath him, back bowing again and again— each arch a reflex, a raw plea for mercy as numerous sparks burst behind your eyes, "gonna mark you with it baby, yeah? you'll be dripping for days."

⚝ — NEUVILLETTE

neuvillette's formality cracks the moment he realizes what he's done— your folds already glistening, your mouth open and wanting, wanting him and archons, dragons beyond, the way you soaked him up was putting him on edge as he drops to his knees like it's judgment, tongue diving in to taste his mess, face buried, nose brushing your clit as he moans like it's the only language he knew, "so wet already, you— you need correction,"

he rasps— voice rough, an octave lower, soaked in something that might be reverence if it weren't so wretchedly obscene— and still, he doesn't let you touch yourself, not even when your thighs begin to shake around him, not even when your body rocks with the force of how close you were, how desperately your slick pussy clenched around nothing in search of friction.

you ache, no, you burn, for the pressure the moment his girth was pressing into your walls again, the smallest touch setting you on fire, for anything to soothe the overwhelming throb between your legs.

your hands twitch where he's pinned them down, the need so sharp it's nearly painful as your stomach coils, tight and low and heavy, and all you could think about was grinding your hand down to help yourself out, circling your clit fast and frantic until you fell apart.

but neuvillette only watches you, drinking in the sight of your helpless squirming, the flushed heat of your skin, the lust in your eyes, the way you beg without words.

the man wanted to see it— that aching edge where pleasure becomes unbearable, he wanted to know how far he could take it, how much you'll squirm, how much of his seed he could store inside you, how loudly you'll whimper, all because he won't let you come.

"you want it that badly?" he whispers, lips ghosting your throat, "oh so greedy, darling, so desperate, do you even know how you look like this? shaking for me?"

and he still doesn't let you touch yourself.

he fucks you until you sob, fills you until you cry, until your juices were slicking up his pelvis, spit frothed into the mess, his hands keeping you open wide before he pulls out to slowly rub his shaft between your folds again, your slick and his cum coating his erection so fucking nicely the overstimulation has you grinding down against his cock in mindless circles, hips chasing friction like you're possessed, like your body had forgotten how to stop.

"i need to see it," he growls, standing, slapping the head of his cock against your cunt, "need to watch it drip out," and when neuvillette fucks you full, it's with unbearable precision— every thrust calculated, dragging your walls wide and making you feel how his cum fills every inch, "don't try to hold it in, darling, let it spill out, let them all see how thoroughly i've claimed you."

⚝ — WRIOTHESLEY

to wriothesley it was certainly not enough to just fuck you— he wanted to destroy you, breed you until you're feeling only him and his warm seed pooling from your hole, the man wanted to see his release flooding your pussy, cum mixed with spit and arousal as he mouths at your chest, grunting into your skin.

"you're so fucking good at taking it," he pants, "i'm impressed," as his voice turns husky, cracked open at the seams, like he's trying to growl but the sound gets caught somewhere in his chest— because fuck, you're tight, yeah? tighter than he expected, tighter than he could handle without his breath catching and his rhythm faltering for just a split second.

naturally the handsome man doesn't say it out loud, but you could feel it— how his hips were stuttering every now and then, how his hands gripped you harder, how his mouth parted like he's choking on the heat of it all.

he's supposed to be in control, isn't he? always was, right? but the way you clenched around him made something shiver through his whole body as his forehead falls against yours, damp and hot, "fuck, you're gonna make me cum too fast like this— shit—'", as his cock drags so deep inside you it knocks the rationality off your head, your toes curling and thighs twitching in exhaustion, hips jerking involuntarily, yet he's thrusting down harder just to make you feel more of that unbearable stretch.

the obscene pressure made your mind go white and your slick drip down his thighs, "but you're gonna take more, aren't you? I'm gonna stretch this hole until it can't hold another drop," as wriothesley shamelessly spits between your legs before watching it drip down to mix with your slick, his groans landing on your ears as if it's heaven.

"gonna fill you again," he growls between thrusts, hips slamming into you, "again and again until i fucking see it running down your thighs," as he doesn't stop even when pretty tears bead your lashes— wriothesley just flips you over, presses your cheek to the soaked sheets and fucks you through your whimpers, "you're gonna wear my cum like a brand."

⚝ — ALBEDO

scientific? sure, terrifying and obsessed? please.

albedo watches every twitch, every pulse, every droplet that slips from your hole after the first round, "fascinating," he mutters something dark underneath his breath, fingers sinking into the obscene slick between your thighs— warm, wet, and clenching as though your body itself was begging.

he groans low when he feels the way you pulse around nothing, fluttering and soaked, hips twitching like you cannot bear the emptiness. yet his hips don't move at first— just press deeper, just spread you wider, parting the mess to watch how it drips and sticks, how your whole body quivers from the exposure.

albedo curses, "ahh, you're throbbing for me already? this way? this wet?" it leaves him like instinct, resembling life— something deeper than thought, older than want, "you're clenching so tightly, it's trying to hold me in," as he continues to be brutal the second time— driving in so hard your breath leaves your lungs, his mouth messy and open against yours.

"do you feel that?" he hisses, sharp and low, but you barely hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears, your toes curling helplessly, nails digging into his back as sparks of raw lust flare through you— wickedly so, unrelenting shocks that made your body flinch and jolt against him.

your stomach felt tight, heavy, on the brink of exploding— like it's about to break open from how close you were, how full you felt of his cum, how deep albedo was inside you.

every thrust knocks your head back into the pillows, making your body seize up like it's trying to run and stay all at once as he groans when you clamp down at his cock, and the way you twitch around him drove him into madness, "how it gushes back out when i pull? yet i hate seeing it leave you," as he spreads you wider, studies how his cum seeps out, then pushes it back in with slow, filthy thrusts, "again, you'll take it all again, i want you dripping from the mouth and cunt, maybe both— marked inside and out, i need to make it happen."

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn���t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[littlepuppers]

fantasizing about dog sitting rnnnn. I’ve never dog sat or anything, and everyone in my neighborhood has big dogs for protection. But i’m thinking if i did offer to dog sit and be told how to take care of the dogs and everything. I would bend down to put their food in their food bowls and he would trap my hips and start mounting me. i try to push him off but he starts barking and biting at my neck. frozen in fear, i try to wiggle my hips away but his doggy cock goes under my skirt. as he puts all his weight on me, my upper body is forced onto the cold floor, and my face into his food bowl. i yell at him to stop, heel, walk?

nothing works, he just keeps thrusting till he pushes my panties aside. no no no no please. my tears start to fall into the kibble as i lay there whimpering, still trying to push his paws off of my hips. but he pulls my hips closer and i feel his hot cock push into me. completely limp and terrified i realize i can’t get him off of me. he’s so big, pushing against my walls and fucking me so fast and i can’t help but moan a little bit because he’s hitting all of my spots. i start to get close and clench around him but he immediately bites down hard on my neck and pushes a huge doggy knot inside me. i scream into the food and am forced to not move because i feel like ill split open if i do.

god. what the fuck. i need this dog off of me now. his slobber dripping off my neck and his teeth marks littered across it. these are definitely gonna bruise. fuck everyone’s gonna find out. i feel his hot doggy semen pool into me and leaking into my cervix, it’s the most disgusting feeling. maybe he’s done now? i try to push his paws off again and he starts to back up.

NOT DONE FUCK. i get dragged a few inches back because fuck he’s fucking stuck in me and have to wait this shit out for god know how long. it hurts, i still feel his cum , now leaking out of me and making a huge mess on the floor. he starts licking the back of my neck and licking off the kibble stuck to my face.

“dumb fucking dog,” i say but he grunts and harshly backs up as i hear a POP and liquid splashing on the ground. my legs shake and give out as i fall down into the dogs mess of cum. so gross. i feel his cold snout pushing my butt back up and he starts licking into my hole, pushing his semen back in. fuck. get the fuck away please i can’t take more. he leaves me.

for the next few days of dog sitting i’ve felt his cum constantly leak out of me and he doesn’t stop trying to push his snout up my skirt. he even does it when the owners come back and i hand them the keys back. they snap and him and say no, only to notice his red cock out and dripping as he’s sniffing me. i push him away and walk out, thankful that it’s over, looking down annoyed and disgusted as i see more of his arousal dripping down my leg.

(fuck i got so carried away writing this, so sorries :33)