#GET WELL SOON BUB

[aechii]

NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[brazilnt]

i’m alive but i’m dead

[ssongsboo]

i love your writing so much i'm so insane sierra😭😭😭💗

i'm like randomly really sick today anf all i can think about is just steve 💔 but i keep falling asleep whiletryinh to watch the younite

i jope you have a good day <3

— 🐈‍⬛ (halfway asleep after JSUT waking up)

aahhhh tysm bubi i adore you 😖😖

i hope youll feel better soon grr thats so annoying!! might be the change of seasons tho bc everybody seems to feel a bit under the weather rn 🤥🤥

no but imagine domestic boyfie steve taking care of you when youre feeling unwell ahhh hed be so soft n careful,,, never leaving your side keeping you warm n cozy in his arms all day KYAAAHHH I NEED

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel��fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [2]- Summer Breeze

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs on the first chapter! ❤️ You're amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Summer breeze can be enchanting.

Word Count: 3464

Series Masterlist

There were some days that you just knew it wouldn’t be a good day, and today was exactly one of these days.

It wasn’t because it was Monday morning and you had slept through your alarm. It wasn’t because while taking the fastest shower of your life you realized you had run out of body wash.

It was because while driving Theo to school your car had broken down, and though you didn’t know much about mutant schools, you were pretty sure that they cared about punctuality just like any other school.

“Isn’t this fun, bean?” you asked as you walked with Theo’s hand in yours through the gates, pretending you weren’t stressed out at all so that he would have a good day. “It’s like we’re explorers.”

“It is!” he said, looking around the vast of greenery surrounding you. “Professor X says the mansion was built ages and ages ago.”

“Ages and ages ago?” you asked with a gasp, his backpack slung over your shoulder. “Really?”

“Yes! And Ralph says if we tried to explore the grounds, it would take us a week!”

“Who’s Ralph?”

“He’s my friend,” he said. “He can breathe underwater!”

“Wow,” you said. “That’s impressive.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, excitement laced in his voice. “He said he saw so many pretty fish in the lake—mommy, can we get a pet fish? Wait no, can we get two?”

“Um…” you trailed off while you approached the mansion with him, students running around in the yard. “Why two?”

“Because we can’t get just one, he’d get bored without a friend!” Theo insisted as the roar of a motorcycle reached you. “Can we get a really big aquarium? Ralph says fish need huge aquariums.”

“We can’t get a huge aquarium, bean,” you said, crouching down to fix his hair and he pulled his brows together.

“But why not?”

“Because.”

“But why not?”

“Because we have no place to put a big aquarium in,” you said patiently and he pouted.

“I’d keep it in my room!”

“Bean.”

“They’d keep you company when I’m here and you come home from work! You said we couldn’t get a dog, but fish don’t need a yard or anything, just an aquarium!”

“Bean, that’s not…”

“I already have names for them both!” he insisted, making you pull your brows together. “The orange one will be Cheeto, and the white one will be Popcorn.”

“Very creative my love, but—”

“Please!” he said. “Please please please? I’ll take care of them when I’m home, I promise!”

“Theo,” you said. “It’s time for your class. Apologize to your teacher for being late, and tell them the car broke down, okay? They can call me if they—”

“Good morning Mr. Wolverine sir!” Theo smiled at someone behind you and you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your heartbeat speeding up as soon as you did.

Oh.

Alright, so as it turned out, you weren’t daydreaming last week and he was in fact as hot as you remembered.

The leather jacket he was wearing fit him perfectly, making you gawk at his broad figure for a moment before you remembered to look up at his handsome face, but that seemed to make your heartbeat even faster so you shot him a small smile and averted your gaze from him to Theo quickly.

“Logan is fine, bub,” he told Theo and Theo nodded so eagerly that his glasses slipped down his nose, making you reach out to fix them.

“Okay Mr. Logan sir,” he said. “Mommy, if we get an aquarium—”

“We’ll talk about it later bean,” you said as you slipped his backpack off your shoulder and helped him put his arms through the straps. You straightened your back at the same time he reached back to open the zipper of the backpack, the simple motion making him stumble backwards but Logan had already grabbed him by the backpack with one hand and lifted him up in the air to put him back on his feet, Theo letting out a cheerful “whee!”.

“Thanks,” you murmured and ruffled Theo’s hair. “Straight to the class, come on.”

Theo gave you a bright smile, then hugged your legs before turning around to run through the hallway.

“Theo don’t—” you started but heaved a sigh. “Great.”

You could hear Logan huff out a chuckle and you swallowed thickly, then turned to look at him better, the fluttering in your stomach getting even worse upon seeing his gaze on you.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he said and you took a deep breath, shifting your weight.

“It was—it was nice to see you,” you stammered, taking a step past him but stopped when you heard him say your name. The fact that he had remembered your name wasn’t supposed to make your chest tingle, you were sure of it, but you didn’t even try to stop the tentative smile pulling at your lips.

“Yes?” you asked, blinking up at him and he stared at you, then frowned like he was trying to pull himself together.

“Your car broke down?”

“Um, yeah,” you said, pointing at the yard. “Like a mile down the road.”

“You walked here?”

“Uh huh,” you said, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll just go back to the car and call my friend, she knows a guy so I’m like ninety percent sure I can get out of it without having to declare bankruptcy—”

“I can fix it,” he said, motioning at the motorcycle. “Let’s go.”

Your eyes widened and you gawked at him for a moment, then scoffed a nervous laugh and waved a hand in the air.

“Oh no no, there’s no need to…” you trailed off. “Please, I’d hate to be a bother.”

“You’re not,” he said, already walking to the bike and you lingered there for a moment before rushing to catch up with his long strides.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you asked him. “Seriously, if you’re busy or anything, I don’t think—”

“I’m not busy.”

“And your motorcycle looks like a one-person type of motorcycle, I can just walk if you—”

“Are you always this polite, princess?”

Well, that was a sure way to shut you up. Your breath caught in your throat, your head spinning for a moment because of how fast adrenaline rush hit you, warmth blooming in your chest.

“…Yeah,” you said after a pause. “Bites me in the ass most of the time.”

The corners of his mouth twitched and he grabbed the only helmet on the back of the motorcycle, then held it out, making you snap out of your thoughts.

“You?” you asked and he shook his head.

“I don’t need it.”

You took the helmet from him to put it on before he got on the bike and started the engine, and almost automatically your hand shot up to your lips but it hit the helmet, making you grimace. You dug your fingernails into your palms before unclenching your hands again, then got on the bike as well, slowly wrapping your arms around his torso. He took a deep breath as if he had just smelled something sweet, then cleared his throat.

“You’re gonna have to hold on tighter than that.”

“Oh I don’t want to accidentally hurt you,” you said, and the simple sentence managed to coax a chuckle out of him. He turned his head sideways to look at you out of the corner of his eye, your cheeks burning before he turned his head again and the engine roared before it sped off down the road, the movement making you gasp and hold onto him tighter to make sure you wouldn’t fall down.

Fine, maybe today was a good one after all.

Back in high school -and the first year of college-, you had never understood why people were into motorcycle. If anything, they looked rather uncomfortable, not to mention incredibly dangerous, and if it rained it would rain on them, and it would be cold and wet and just unpleasant but now—

Now, hanging onto Logan as the wind whipped around you, trees wheezing past, you were starting to get the appeal.

Logan stopped the motorcycle when you pointed at your car parked at the side of the road, and you pulled back from him even if you didn’t want to, then got off the bike, taking your helmet off and fixing your hair in a haste.

“I didn’t die,” you announced, making him shoot you an amused glance. “That’s nice.”

“That was the expectation?” he asked as you both made your way to your car and you nodded.

“Kind of?” you said, unlocking the car before Logan lifted the hood up to look inside, then tilted his head.

“Hold on,” he muttered and he started unbuttoning his flannel, making your eyes widen. Your heart climbed up to your throat, a sudden warmth swirling your insides and when he slipped his flannel to reveal his very tight white shirt underneath, you gulped, unable to drag your gaze away from him. He didn’t even need to hear your heartbeat, your flustered state was clear as day and your brain recognized him saying something you didn’t even hear with a couple of seconds delay, making your head snap up.

“Huh?”

A cocky smirk curled his lips and you shifted your weight.

“I was um—I was thinking about something,” you stammered and his smirk widened.

“Uh huh,” he said. “I’m gonna go under the car for a moment.”

Never in your entire life had you wanted to be a car more.

“I don’t know if I have that lifter thing—” you started, trying to pull your thoughts together but before you could even finish your sentence, he had already reached down underneath the bumper and lifted the car a bit to get under, making your jaw drop.

Oh alright, so this was just…

You were just fantasizing about him and this whole thing in general, that was the only explanation you could possibly come up with. Any minute now, your alarm would start blaring and you would wake up and go to work with no sign of a very specific, incredibly hot and strong guy.

Jesus, he looked like that and he could lift a car?

“Um—Logan are you okay down there?” you asked, approaching the car to bend down a little. “Do you need help?”

“Nope,” he said, his voice not even strained as if he wasn’t holding up the car with one hand. “Just checking something.”

“The car isn’t gonna fall on you, right?”

“No, I’m holding it.”

“Yeah because that’s the normal answer to that question,” you said, nodding your head. “Sure. Uh, another question, how do you know you can in fact hold up a car? As in, have you tried this before? Because if you die, not only will I be very sad but also I will go to jail and I don’t think I’d survive there, I watched a lot of shows like that and I like flavored coffee a bit too much, and I also don’t know who’d be taking care of Theo—”

“Relax princess,” he cut off your rambling with a chuckle. “It’s fine.”

You hoped your hormones wouldn’t get the best of you and by the time he got out from under the car, you wouldn’t be checking Pinterest for wedding venues but before you could even grab your phone, you heard a car coming to a stop behind you, making you look over your shoulder. The man inside looked you up and down, making you shift your weight, discomfort hitting you out of nowhere as you clenched and unclenched your fists.

You recognized that look just fine.

“Hey there,” he said with a small grin. “Car problems?”

You plastered a well-practiced polite smile on your face. “Yeah but it’s fine, thank you.”

“Get in, I can drive you to the nearest station.”

“Um no sir, thank you,” you said. “I’m actually handling it.”

“Oh come on now,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m not a bad guy. Just being helpful.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could say anything else, the car groaned as Logan lifted it a little and got out from under it. You didn’t even need to turn your head to know he was glaring at the man, the look of complete fear crossing the man’s face was enough of a clue and you bit back your smile, raising your brows at him while Logan stood at full height behind you, towering over you.

“She said she’s handling it,” he said, his deep growl making your heart do a happy flip and you nodded.

“Thank you though!” you said with the most customer service level of cheerful voice you could muster without bursting into laughter and the man’s eyes went from you to him, and he gulped down.

“Ye—yeah okay,” he said and drove off, making you let out a giggle and turn to look up at Logan.

“I think you scared him off.”

Logan glared at the direction the man drove off as if he was genuinely contemplating whether to go after him or not, then gritted his teeth and glanced down at you.

“You okay?”

“Sure,” you said. “I have a knife in the glove compartment, just in case. Theo isn’t allowed to open it.”

He shook his head slightly, then went to the motorcycle to grab a couple of tools, wiping the motor oil on his hands onto his shirt. You had to physically force yourself to look up at the sky just so that you could stop the sound threatening to spill from your lips, then rubbed at your eyes as he started working on the car. You lingered in your spot for a moment, then opened the car door to climb up to sit on the roof of the car, making him glance at you over the hood.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m keeping you company,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s easier to talk like this.”

He didn’t comment on it, instead returned back to what he was doing and you pressed your lips together, keeping your gaze on him.

“So how’s the crying going?” he asked and you scrunched up your nose.

“It’s going well actually, thank you for asking,” you told him. “I already cried this morning so…”

“Why?”

“There was this cat video,” you said. “It was so adorable. I keep telling Theo he can’t have a pet, I need to remind myself that as well.”

“He wants a fish now?”

“He wants to have a lot of animals,” you told him. “He wants a dog and a cat and now fish. Apparently, his new friend told him there are many pretty ones in the lake, and I’m glad he’s making friends but I’m gonna be so screwed when he finds one who can talk to like, horses or something.”

He scoffed a laugh. “He made friends pretty easily.”

“Oh he could make friends in an empty room.”

“He got that from you or his father?”

“Me,” you said, barely aware of the proud tone in your voice. “He gets everything from me, or at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” you said, nodding your head. “But I mean, it makes sense when you think about it, considering…”

Logan’s gaze on you was almost too hot. “He’s not around?”

You bit at your thumb, shaking your head. “No.”

Thankfully.

“Um, how about you?” you asked, trying to change the topic. “What do you do when you’re not fixing cars and scaring off creeps? Do you teach at school?”

“Sometimes,” he said. “I work for Charles.”

“As a teacher?”

“Not necessarily.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top of them, your arms wrapping around legs.

“An open book, aren’t you?” you asked, making him chuckle.

“Mm, pretty much.”

“Now why would a mysterious man give such short answers?”

He shot you a mischievous smile. “Probably the same reason why a pretty girl would ask so many questions.”

Your heart skipped a happy beat as you felt your cheeks burn, and you had to resist the urge to bury your face to your knees with a squeal so you bit down on your lip, smiling at him. He held your gaze for a moment, making fire spread through your veins before he nodded at you.

“You mind if I try to start it?”

“Oh go ahead,” you said, and he got into your car, then you heard him slide the driver’s seat back to adjust it to his height. “But I had the mechanic check the car like a month ago, so I don’t really think…”

You stopped talking immediately when you heard the roar of the engine as it came to life and a gasp left your lips.

“Are you serious?” you exclaimed while Logan got out of the car and you slid off the roof to jump to the ground.

“Yeah, the next time it happens, just—” he was cut off when you flung yourself to him to hug him tight.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” you said with a huge smile. “Seriously Logan, you saved my life!”

 A small chuckle escaped from his lips and his arm sneaked around your waist, and if you didn’t know if better, you could’ve sworn he tilted his head down to get closer to your hair and took a deep breath.

“Not a problem,” he said, his deep voice vibrating in his chest and all of a sudden all your senses were filled with him; his warm body against yours, the pleasant scent of leather, smoke and pine in your lungs, his voice in your ears. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster as you forced yourself to pull back, then craned your head up to look at him.

“Sorry!” you said. “Sorry I’m…me and my friend took this test and apparently my love language is physical touch and I’m not very sure about it really because I kind of feel like it’s a scam but also is it though, because I used to have a cat when I was little and um, I refused to put her down, I always carried her everywhere so that I could hug her all the time and weirdly enough she liked it, which you wouldn’t expect from a cat most of the time but—um—” you paused. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” he said, his intense gaze pinning you to your spot and you nibbled on your lip, then willed yourself to take a step back, your hand shooting up to your mouth again.

“How—how do I repay you?”

He shot you a reprimanding look. “You don’t.”

“No but seriously,” you insisted. “There has to be something.”

That had sounded more grateful and less like a porn dialogue in your head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Change your mechanic though, seems like the engine hasn’t been checked in a while.”

“Okay,” you said, forcing yourself to lower your hand. “Thank you. Again.”

“My pleasure,” he said with a small smile and you lingered in your spot for a moment, then got in the car, almost falling on your ass since he had slid the seat back to adjust it to his height. You cleared your throat, trying to keep it cool as you slid it forward, and as soon as the brochures on the dashboard caught your eye, you reached out to grab one and looked up at Logan out the open window.

“I found a way to thank you,” you said with a proud smile, your heart was beating in your throat. “I work at this diner, you should drop by. It’ll be on the house, and the pie is amazing.”

A small smirk curled his lips as he eyed the brochure you were holding up.

“You sure about that?” he asked. “If you feed me, I might come back.”

The warmth bloomed underneath your skin as your smile widened.

“Looking forward to it,” you said, raising the brochure just a little and he chuckled, then took the brochure from you.

“Drive safe,” he said, patting the roof of the car and you nodded your head.

“See you around, Logan,” you said before you drove off, checking him out from the rear mirror until you slowed down at the road junction, then turned the car and let out a breath, trying to keep your attention on the road.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered to yourself. “Fuck, he’s too hot.”

[3] - Downpour

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Curling Iron *ೃ༄

Summary: based on @abq654 request! "Hi!! I don't know if you take request but if you do.. can you please do something like.. reader covered in hickey and next day, the wags ask her about it.. and she says it's curling iron.. and then drivers enter into room.. and wags greet lando like "hi curling iron".. or something like that!!"

𐙚 ln x reader ✮⋆˙

𐙚 fluff + humour + slightly suggestive ✮⋆˙

masterlist ☾☼

your back was against the door before you could even realise what was going on. lando's lips had attached to your neck and his kisses and bites and licks were more than enough for your brain to melt. he was everywhere. you could feel him everywhere, and yet you wanted to feel more of him.

he groaned as his hands wandered and you let breathy moans. everything in that moment felt perfect. well, not as perfect as you would've preferred since the two of you were currently in his driver's room and not back at the hotel. but your hot, rich boyfriend had his hot, rich job to do, so the two of you took the opportunities that the universe presented.

his hands were on the button of your pants, and his lips on your neck, and just as things were about to get good, someone knocked on his door.

"lando, let's go, we've got media!" the person outside sounded urgent. he needed to go.

lando's forehead was pressed against yours as the two of you tried to catch your breath. lando's hands withdrew from your waist, and he leaned back to look at you.

"i'm so sorry," he whispered.

you smiled, shaking your head at him, "don't worry about it, bub. you've got a job to do. we'll have the whole night back at the hotel,"

lando smiled, kissing you softly once, twice, thrice. "i'll see you soon, yeah?"

you nodded, "i'm gonna sit with lily and carmen,"

he kissed your forehead, and said, "i'll come find you," just as another knock came. sighing, lando turned around and left to do his hot, rich job.

fixing your clothes and your hair, you left the driver's room as well, making your way to the VIP section to join lily and carmen. you spotted them quote easily, and walked through the crowd to where they sat.

"hey, guys," you greeted.

"y/n!" they exclaimed almost in unison. you smiled.

you took a seat beside them and joined in on their conversation. the world was bustling, and there were multiple tv screens displaying the track, the media pen, and any interview happening.

just as lando's interview came on screen, carmen's said, "what happened there?"

you turned and looked at her, confused. she pointed at your neck. frowning, you felt your neck, and the little sting of a bruise made you realise exactly what carmen was asking.

eyes wide, you stammered, "oh, just a curling iron mishap, nothing else,"

neither lily, nor carmen mentioned that your hair currently did not have curls and were in their natural wavy state, and instead just nodded, pretending to buy your lie.

the three of you fell into conversation again, and you tried your best to hide the not-so-little hickey that lando had left.

later, when all their duties were over, alex, george, and lando made their way over to the three of you. they had changed and the three of them seemed ready to go home. so were you.

"hey, curling iron," lily said nonchalantly, as you choked on your water.

lando looked at the two of you, confused, "what?"

carmen and lily's smirks were enough to make you sigh. facing lando, you moved your hair to show him just what he had done. lando laughed, shrieking and loud and you knew you couldn't be annoyed with him for more than three seconds. leaning forward, he pressed a light kiss on the hickey, seeming proud of himself.

"you can't do things like these, lan!" you insisted.

"why not? so i was having some fun with my girlfriend. big deal." he said.

"i agree. at least your boyfriend wants to have fun with you. mine forgets about me as soon as he sees either of these two boys," carmen grumbled, causing everyone to laugh.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carmenmundt and 56,109 others

yourusername: boyfie's choice of celebration tonight!

view all 39,850 comments

user1 "boyfie" my heart 😩😩😩😩😩

landonorris the best kind of celebration

lnfour LFGGGG P2

user2 i thought drivers weren't allowed to eat junk???

user3 stfu

carmenmundt curling iron on podium 💪🏻

lilymhe so proud of our curling iron

user4 curling iron??? what is happening??? is that his codename???

user6 why tf would they call him curling iron?

user5 i need this gossip please

user7 LANDO P2 HELL YEAH

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

hi! i hope you like this! i added a little smau as well, cause i felt like it 🤷🏻‍♀️ i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[starboye]

imagine logan fucking you while wade yaps and jerks you off

you sat on logans lap, his muscular legs holding yours apart to keep you from closing them as he makes out with your neck, decorating you with his hickeys and soft love bites as wade is knelled in front of you, slowly stroking your aching dick, he's been edging you for the past hour and you can't do anything about it.

from logan restraining your arms behind your back with his own and him holding you legs open while wade makes out with you messily filled with whimpers and moan "you're doing so great for us peanut" wade compliments pulling from the make out to look at your tear covered cheeks "isn't he doing so good for us logan" wade asks, his hand still slowly stroking your cock.

"mhm so tight for me aren't cha" logan smirks as you drop your head on his shoulder, he keeps his hand tightly on your waist to keep you riding him "please can i cum" you choke out through sobs "well what do you think logan, should we let the good boy cum" wade smiles tightening his hand around you.

"i dunno kinda wanna keep this bub workin" logan lowly says biting your ear lobe making your weakly moan "well peanut the jury has spoken and seems you're gonna keep going okay" wade says lifting your head up to look at him, your eyes tired and weak while wades eyes are filled with excitedness and teasing.

"plea- ngh fuck" you beg but get interrupted by wade running his rough finger over your swollen tip, you look up at him with a pout on your face and pleading eyes "oh wait c'mon logan how am i supposed to resist this cute face" he says turning your face to meet logans stoic expression "please" you softly say with a sultry tone.

you lay sweet kisses on logans gruffly beard to try and convince him and you could fell his grip tighten on your waist, he lets go of your arms and moves both hands to your waist to hold you in place "you sure you want me to fuck you, if i do know i might not stop" logan huskily whispers to you as wade watches eagerly.

"i am rock hard right now" wade interrupts making you and logan turn to him "can you shut him up" logan asks and you pull wade into a kiss as logan begins plopping you up and down on his dick, you moaning into wades mouth as his hand woks faster on your length.

"mm fuckkk logan" you whimper as you feel your climax coming and you soon let it out all over wades hand but that doesn't make logan slow down as he continues fucking you onto him, he leans his head onto your shoulder "you fell so fuckin' tight around me ya know that, just wanna fill you up and hope you get pregnant" logan chuckles "then do it" you say through a moan.

"oh yes yes yes please do it" wade eagerly says stroking his own dick now as he watches you get fucked by his partner in crime, logan soon lets out a deep raspy groan that sounds like a roar and he bites down on your neck as he spurts his thick load into you and wade soon does the same, standing up to paint your face white with his arousal.

"you look so good covered in my cum" wade compliment "sorry for the marks" logan softly says releasing you from his grip "don't be i love them" you reassure kissing his cheek making him softly smile and blush "hey where's my kiss" wade pouts "fine then c'mere" you say pulling him into a deep kiss "i'm hard again" wade admits "we can tell" you and logan both say in unison with a snicker.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09

©starboye productions

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[gutsby]

Love Tap

Pairing: Dad!Joel x Reader

Summary: Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.

Warnings: 18+. Joel Miller is a MUNCH Oral (f!receiving). Unprotected p-in-v (quickie). Slice of life, domestic-style and Joel calls you ‘Mama’ a whole lot. One playful bite.

Word count: 2.4k

Note: ‘You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up’ is a line from 2Pac’s song, ‘Hit ‘Em Up.’

Joel Miller was a wonderful father.

Occasionally, he forgot how to act like one.

He had a tendency to get a little careless. Sloppy.

Letting the dignified, ever-respectful façade slip every now and again and smacking your ass when you walked past. Copping a feel when you had to squeeze by him in the kitchen. Best of all, pinching your cheek through your skirt while you were cradling the baby—his baby—and leaving you no choice but to shoot him a quick back-the-fuck-up-before-you-get-smacked-the-fuck-up look and a covert middle finger to remind him that he wasn’t supposed to be slapping your butt in front of the kids.

It was just bad practice to engage in those dumb, flirty antics, particularly when your four-year-old son had made it his mission in life to imitate everything dad did.

But again, Joel would sometimes forget that.

On a morning when he’d woken up a little too early with an erection that was a tad too stubborn to ignore, he got especially forgetful. He found himself plastered to your backside at the edge of the bathroom counter with a grin, knowing damn well you only had twenty-five minutes to get the family dressed, fed, and on the road.

“Joel, you are so—”

“Quick. I’ll be quick.”

His eyes suddenly pleading with yours in the mirror. You just might’ve had the willpower to turn his honeyed gaze away were it not for the lips that followed it. Tracing the shell of your ear and behind it, down your neck, leaving trails of soft kisses down the skin until he reached the collarbone, your sweet spot, and licked it—the bastard.

“Five. Minutes.” Your words were equal parts invitation and warning as you shimmied your PJs over your butt.

“You know I’ll have ya finished in two, sweet pea,” Joel teased—but deep down, you knew he wasn’t kidding.

Both of you had cum and were done in a record-breaking four and a half minutes, swapping pyjamas for normal clothes in less than half the time and stepping back out of the bathroom with your hair only marginally tousled.

By now you had the ‘Pre-K starts in thirty’ types of quickies down pat. You were proud. You glanced over your shoulder to see a similar glint in Joel’s eye, and as you started out the bedroom door, you felt a tap on your ass—or, with the sheer breadth of your husband’s hand, more like a WHACK, followed by the sound of a stifled laugh.

“Can Daddy get some more’a that later?” he quipped.

“More’a what?”

Aw, hell.

Your sweet, forever nosy mini-Joel was standing directly in front of you with two pinched brows and a mostly eaten dino nugget clenched tight in his tiny fist.

You opened your mouth to conjure up some half-assed excuse for the spank your son just saw, but then your husband was scooping the kid up in his arms and toting him straight down the hallway, and you heard, faintly:

“Whatcha gettin’ from Mama later?”

“None of your beeswax, bubs.”

Joel got his second helping around lunchtime.

He’d been in between calls with what felt like an endless stream of subcontractors, suppliers, architects, and project managers when he swung by the house. You were in the midst of baking cardamom buns when he blew through the kitchen like an EF5 tornado and decided he’d be feasting on something else entirely.

“Joel, my buns,” you whined as soon as he’d carried you up the stairs and tossed you onto the bed, eager as ever.

“Fuck your buns.”

“You already fucked ‘em this morning—can you relax?”

Your husband already had your pants tugged halfway down your legs. You let him, then helped him kick the fabric the rest of the way off when it got to your ankles.

“You’re a fuckin’ maniac, Miller, y’know that?”

Something in the way he smirked as he sank his face between your bare thighs told you he already knew that. You would’ve liked to try and scold him again—give him a little more grief for the baked treats that would surely be burnt to a crisp by the time he was done—but then you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your slit, and you refrained.

Even if you’d wanted to, you scarcely would’ve been able to form a single word apart from, ‘Fu-cking hell, Joel’ and ‘Right there, right thereohfuuuuuuckfuckfuck.’

That was just fine by your husband.

In fact, he seemed perfectly content to lap at your slick, glistening folds while you moaned and cursed his name; it made him proud. Appreciative. Maybe even a tad too smug for his own good, if he were being honest, because the way you fisted his hair and rutted your hips against his face made you act a little more like him. A touch more reckless, sloppy, and desperate than your daily obligations as parents would seem to allow. A bit less proper and refined and a lot more slutty—all for him.

Joel teased your clit with a few soft touches from the tip of his tongue, and you almost tore the sheets in two.

“That feel good, Mama?” he hummed.

“F-Fingers, fuck, Joel— fingers,” you begged.

Still using his tongue, Joel drew the shape of a lemniscate extra slow just to spite you. You whined and bucked your hips in protest, but the man was undeterred—he knew exactly what he was doing. The only way he could be tempted to use his fingers now would be to spread your lips apart and lick you more, which he did.

Joel licked and sucked and drove you up the fucking wall with those figure eights until you nearly couldn’t take it. In one hasty, desperate move, you tilted your hips and tried to slip a finger past Joel’s mouth, into your cunt.

He bit that finger. You yelped.

“JOEL!”

It wasn’t that the bite actually hurt—his teeth barely grazed skin—but rather the way he refused to speed up. Gauging your wants and your needs with expert precision, he massaged the hood of your clit with his tongue and took care to plant suckling kisses as he did. You moaned and squeezed the bedspread, relishing the vulgar sounds of his mouth and the need he was building inside you. You turned your head to the side and whined into the pillow, knowing from the depths of your soul you needed release, but Joel just wouldn’t oblige you…yet.

When he grinned against your wet, warm, and slippery folds, his mouth might as well have joined in and said, ‘Keep going—you’ll cum on my tongue when I say so.’

Instead, Joel opted to say ‘Mama’ again, softly.

Mama.

He always called you that when he took you extra slow. Sometimes when he took you quick, too. Like a reminder to you both that you were, in fact, the mother of his children, and if the man had had it his way he’d have given you fifty more by now, daycare bills be damned.

He was generous like that. Always giving, giving, giving.

Just not when it came to doling out orgasms sometimes.

“I have a divorce lawyer on speed dial, just so you know,” you hissed through gritted teeth, head falling back when Joel’s tongue sank forward—inside you, then, “FUCK!”

“Mhmmm,” he hummed before retracting once more. Licking the soft, fleshy rim and nearly eliciting a scream.

Joel traced a circle with his tongue. He savored the taste. While you were whining and grinding your hips against the wet spot underneath you—a puddle that would only grow larger the longer he went on—your husband was devouring you, kissing your thighs every now and then.

“Well, if we split, my tongue goes too,” Joel said. Smug.

“Texas is a community property state,” you murmured, “I taught you how to eat pussy so your mouth is a marital asset.”

Silently, Joel wondered how that argument might hold up in court, grinned, then continued licking your cunt. You squeezed his head with your thighs, dug the balls of your feet in the sheets, and let out a lewd, pornographic scream that could’ve woken half the street. Luckily, your neighbors were probably all at work, your bedroom walls insulated just well enough to mask the noise, and Joel’s resolve crumbling slowly as he kissed between your legs.

One wanton, shameless, ‘I’m gonna cum, Joel, please’ was like music to his ears. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with a wife and mother as sweet as you, so upright and polite in your day-to-day life and then a hot, trembling mess beneath his tongue when he needed you like this the most. Surely he couldn’t treat you so mean.

Joel wedged two thick fingers in your slick, dripping heat and beckoned you to him as kindly as he possibly could. Rubbing the pads of both digits, callused as they were, against the spongy insides of your core and flicking them forward—‘C’mere, Mama, Daddy’s right here, go on’— so of course, you had no other logical choice but to cum.

It was all habit by now. A dazzling, sumptuous routine.

And Joel Miller was certain he’d never tire of seeing it.

Your spine arched off the mattress an inch or two, toes curling at the feeling, and while the sensation spanned over your body, your husband was the first to see it, sense it on his lips and tongue and fingers just as well. He squeezed your hip, told you how fucking pretty you looked when you came for him, then patiently waited out the spasms and cries and fingers lacing through his soft, dark locks like he was your last remaining tether to earth.

Then he kissed the inside of your thighs and smiled.

“All better, honey?” he hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed back.

“Still want a divorce?”

A smirk and a response of ‘Not until you knock me up at least one more time’ was hovering somewhere over your tongue when you felt the bed shake. Buzzing. Vibrating?

Joel sat up between your legs and yanked something out from under his ass. He peered down at the thing—staring into a screen—and cocked a brow as he looked back up.

“Someone’s been naughty,” he said simply. Grinning.

He lobbed the phone your way, and you just barely managed to catch it between two trembling hands.

Incoming Call: Francisco C. Morales Elementary

You shot Joel a look and answered it instantly.

Disoriented, disheveled, and slightly foggy from climax, you half-expected to find one of your son’s disgruntled teachers on the other end of the line, reminding you that today was a noon dismissal and everyone was supposed to pick their kids up an hour ago. Your husband was the one who would always keep up with school schedules, so your gaze narrowed at him, butt scooting up the bed while he tried to dive right back between your legs.

“He-llo?”

You smacked a hand away from the front of your blouse.

“Is this Mrs. Miller?” a voice trilled through the phone.

Yes, unfortunately, it was.

You almost had to backhand Joel across the face when he tried to bite the button off your brand new top, teeth ruthless in their pursuit of getting you fully naked now.

“This is she,” you squeaked.

Someone cleared their throat on the other end of the line—as though they knew you had a broad, hulking husband with a cock as hard as sheet metal trying to tear your clothes off while you talked. You stifled a shriek and a giggle when you felt your relentless man move down.

Joel was busy working your blouse from the bottom with that feral mouth of his when the voice sounded again:

“We’d really appreciate it if you and your husband could come see us this afternoon to have a little chat about—”

Your eyes widened. You clutched your phone even tighter and this time, more seriously, shoved Joel away. When he frowned and started to pout, you raised a finger.

“A-About what? Has my— has he done something bad?” Your voice all of a sudden tight, words wavering just enough to snag your husband’s attention too.

“We can explain more when you get here, he’s just…”

‘What the fuck?’ Joel mouthed silently, leaning in.

“What? What’s he done?” You couldn’t help it.

You heard a long sigh across the line, and you knew that wasn’t good. It sounded a lot like the kind of sighs you made whenever your baby made a colossal mess all over the kitchen floor, or your husband slammed a door too loud and woke the kids from their nap, or your son just—

“—keeps slapping his classmates on the butt.”

“Wait, what?”

You blinked. Joel coughed. Together, half-naked on the bed, you sat up a little straighter and leaned even closer into the phone, hearts starting to thud in your chests.

“Your son was just…spanking other kids and asking if he could ‘get some more’a that later,’ and when his teacher asked him where he’d learned to do a thing like that—”

You turned. Joel paled. Your gaze could’ve seared a hole through the front of his skull if you stared any harder, and just as your son’s principal continued talking, Joel raised his hands in surrender, already trying to apologize.

“Honey—”

“—and he told her he saw your husband do it at home—”

You didn’t need to hear another word. You were already fishing for your pants, yanking them back up your legs and brushing aside your husband’s soft, red-faced attempts at consolation, and when you were dressed, you started straight for the door. Already babbling some half-coherent apology to the woman on the phone, dodging Joel’s impossibly large hands and arms and hugs as he tried to pull you back into his chest and tell you he was sorry. You just might’ve let him, and maybe even believed him to be sincere, if you didn’t see the tiniest smirk on his lips as he fought to wrangle you in.

You’d made it to the door and were just about to pivot to give Joel the finger, tell him this was not funny at all, and he was coming with you right now, when both of you halted at the threshold and were obliged to turn again.

You sniffed the air, and your husband made a face.

Was it—

Before you could think, a plume of smoke drifted out through the kitchen door. Your eyes widened, and right as the fire alarm let out its piercing scream, you wailed,

“My buns!”

[hollandsangel]

2:15 am | c. sturniolo

HI yes im alive who’s surprised (me, i am)

self proclaimed mayor of the ‘chris can’t sleep alone’ club (doing gods work, you’re welcome)

summary: chris cant sleep & you’re the perfect remedy

wc: 834

gif by @hotelstares !

you haven’t been asleep very long. maybe twenty minutes or half an hour.

you’re in the midst of a fuzzy dream when your phone starts to vibrate on your dresser next to your bed. the sound is difficult to recognize at first, getting all mixed up with your dream in your mind. eventually it wakes you up, tugging you away from the soft haze you’d been emersed in.

groggily, you reach over for the device, squinting your eyes to try and read the contact. your eyes are bleary, but you’re able to make out your boyfriends name and contact photo after a brief seceond.

“chris?” you wonder through the line upon answering, voice thick with sleep and hardly above a whisper.

“hey ma,” his voice is smooth, like he hasn’t been asleep yet.

“hi…i think i was dreaming about you,” you say as you let your head fall back against the pillow, rubbing gently at your eyes with your other hand.

“yeah?” he says through a deep breath. the smile your confession elicits from him is audible and contagious.

“yeah, either that or i just spent the last four days with you and my brain hasn’t realized we’re apart yet,” you think he must be able to hear your smile as well.

“my brain hasn’t really realized it either,” he mumbles, getting a little bit shy.

you close your eyes, content being soothed by his voice.

“what time is it?” you ask him, even if you could easily look at your phone screen for the answer. opening your eyes feels like too much work.

chris answers of course, without hesitation, “2:15,”

“it’s pretty late, you okay, bub?” you ask him before answering your own question, “can’t sleep?” you know how he gets, always needing someone close by when he drifts off.

you can imagine it’s a bit difficult tonight, considering you spent the last few nights sharing his bed. you’d found it a little harder than normal too, having gotten used to his arms tucked around you, his face pressed against your shoulder blade.

“i miss you,” he mutters and it makes you blush, “and i don’t wanna crawl into bed with matt or nick, i know it won’t help,” he admits, letting out a long breath.

“you wanna come over?”

“would that be okay?” he seems a little bit embarrassed, like he might be inconveniencing you.

“of course, chris,” you open your eyes now, reaching over to turn on your bedside lamp, “i want cuddles now,” you say sheepishly, face still half pressed against your pillow, muffling the words.

“mmk, i’ll get an uber, be there soon,”

“kay, love you,” you sigh, waiting for him to hang up.

“love you too,” he says first, making you smile even if you’ve heard it a thousand times.

in the twenty minutes it takes for chris to show up, you’re drifting in and out of sleep, trying your hardest to keep the lull of exhaustion at bay as you wait, no matter the difficulty.

soon enough, the sound of a key in the lock sends a small jolt of wakefulness through you, and you anticipate the subtle push of the door as he comes through to your bedroom.

“nick or matt’s bed wasn’t good a enough?” you tease, watching him turn a little red as he shuffles into your room.

“i wanted to sleep in your bed,” he mumbles, beanie hanging low and covering his eyebrows, pajama pants hanging lower. he lifts the duvet and crawls in with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, “nd’ i wanted to sleep with you, not my stinky brothers.”

you laugh, stifling it against the blankets “m glad you’d rather snug with me,”

“you kidding? you’re the best snugger around.”

“i’d say,” you hum, tugging his beanie off and tossing it somewhere on your floor.

he gives you a squeeze before reaching over to turn you so you’re facing him, “thanks for letting me come over,” he mutters, beaming in the low light. he looks so pretty like this, grinning down at you, illuminated by the soft glow of your lamp. he reaches up slightly and brushes your hair from your face.

you have a small moment of realization; he’s admiring you the same way you’re admiring him. you think your heart grows in size, gratitude making it swell up.

“thanks for comin’,” you whisper back, leaning up so your noses touch.

chris closes the gap, giving you a gentle kiss before pulling back and kissing your forehead too.

“night,” he tucks you against him, keeping you close, “i love you,” it’s sweet, how his tone changes. it’s tired now, chalked full of sleep and you can’t help but think it’s because he’s with you now, and that’s what puts him at ease enough to finally relax.

“i love you too,” you whisper into the barely-there space between you, watching as his eyes close and his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks.

you can’t help yourself, leaning forward just enough to kiss him there too.

.

.

.

.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @grimholic @tworosesblackthorn @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @pinkishpearls

[oceantornadoo]

quiet hours (john price x f!reader)

there is a power dynamic but it’s discussed, price is a major simp, some time jumps

—

price’s office couch. a brown and beaten thing, a comfortable touch on the side of his desk. john himself had never used it, but kept it from the office’s last occupant, a buffer in case someone tried to cross over to his side of the room. that was, of course, before you.

it started when your leg was injured. he let you prop up your leg on the couch and somewhere during the twenty minute mark of your conversation, you fell asleep. any other solider and john would have reprimanded them, tossed them out, but you looked so peaceful, soft lips parted slightly. he left you a note, come back anytime, not wanting to risk the sting of rejection to his face.

it became your ritual. you didn’t sleep well at night but as a high ranking SAS member, you had some freedom in your daily schedule for occasional naps. he liked hearing your soft sighs as he worked, going so far as to keep a silk pillow for you when he heard you complain about your hair on leather. you chatted or you didn’t, always leaving with a small smile and “thanks, cap.”

even the rest of base knew 3-5pm were quiet hours, a small sign posted on his door. the couch wasn’t big and with the angle of the door, most people didn’t even realize you were in there when they popped in to ask a question. john guarded you like a dragon with his jewels, chewing out recruits for being too loud, never explaining your presence to anyone.

right now, you were sound asleep, your small sighs like john’s personal soundtrack to heaven. simon had knocked silently, asking some important question about an upcoming mission, and john huffed with annoyance knowing he had to leave you. he got out of his chair, carefully so it wouldn’t squeak, and made his way over to you. squatting down, he rubbed a gentle hand over your face, tracing your relaxed cheekbones and brow. “sweetheart, i have t’ go. be back in few.” you whimpered, eyes fluttering, half drunk on sleep. “you’re leaving?” he shook his head, leaning in so his forehead touched your own. his hand slid towards your neck and brought you closer, practically a kiss. the comfort of it was delicious and you let out a contented sigh. “jus’ for a bit. go back to sleep, bub.” he peeled back, evaluating what kind of captain he was. apparently not a very good one as he kissed your forehead before getting up, the skin on skin contact rushing through his bones like electricity.

simon was waiting patiently outside, his relaxed look menacing to the passing recruits. he fell into step with price easily, walking towards their favored meeting spot. “tellin’ her soon?” john shook his head, dragging an exhausted hand down his face. tell you what? that you were strong and lovely and the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen, on and off the battlefield? that the only way he slept at night was imagining your own sleepy sighs? that for some idiotic reason, there was a ring burning a hole in his sock dresser? “too soon, lieutenant.” simon huffed, the glint of a smirk under his mask. “been half a year, cap. jus’ sayin’.” john fought the urge to run back to his office, to make sure no one bothered you. “she’s just sleepin’ there, nothin’ special.” simon side eyed him, noting the stress lines and crow’s feet on his captain’s face. “i’ll tell johnny ‘s nothin’ special then. heard he’s interested.”

john prided himself on keeping his emotions in check. it was one of the revered traits of his captain position, the glue to the team. in that moment however, stopped mid stride at his lieutenant’s words, shoulders bunching and fists tightening, he wanted to kill half his team. “you will do no such thing, lieutenant. that’s an order.” simon clapped him on the shoulder with his short barking laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes. “roger that.”

—

“i don’t know gaz, do you really think he likes me?” gaz had popped in to price’s for a question but you were there instead, half awake and confused. he liked the couch too, tucking himself at the far end and pulling your socked feet into his lap. “‘ve never seen cap let anyone else sleep here. if that’s not a sign, don’t know what is.” you rolled your eyes, keeping them on the ceiling. “well i’ve been sleeping here almost six months and got a forehead kiss to show for it.” gaz froze, his hands stilling on your ankle. “you’re takin’ the piss.” as if. “am not! happened fifteen minutes ago and i’ve been overanalyzing it since.” gaz tried to reason how two of the smartest people he knew were such idiots. “darling, you’re practically married now. i’ve never seen-“ the door swung open, john’s strides minutely faltering when he saw gaz on the couch. “back to work, garrick. close the door behind you.” gaz acknowledged him with a nod and suddenly price was in his place, drawing your feet on the top of his legs.

“everyone wants a piece of you, don’t they?” it was nonsensical, what he murmured, almost to himself. you pressed your feet into his thigh until he got the memo, strong hands circling your ankles and pulling them into his lap. “what do you mean, cap? gaz was just visiting.” he hummed a non reply, fingers tracing the scar of where your foot injury used to be. “this all better?” your brows furrowed at the change in topic, nodding your head on instinct. “right as rain, sir.” his thumb, callused and strong, was pressing into your ankle now. it was like john was in a trance, fully focused on your worn socks, refusing to look at your face. “how long have you been sleepin’ here with a perfectly fine foot, sergeant?” your mouth dropped, confusion clouding your brain. “i- bout four months, sir. i sleep better here than my own bed.” he finally turned his head, his dark blue gaze searing into you. “why’s that?” it was barely loud enough for you to hear it, croaked out with a herculean effort. “because you’re here. i don’t, don’t really know why. you’re comforting and safe and smell nice…” you trailed off at the last bit, cheeks warming in embarrassment.

john tucked himself in and laughed, the air from his lungs brushing over your ankles. you answered with a small giggle, still unsure about your blunder. “whole time it was my smell keepin’ you here. way to kill a man’s ego, sweetheart.” you grinned, sitting up on your elbows. you pressed your foot into the side of his face, forcing him to look at you instead of his lap. “it’s you, john. keeping me here.” the temperature dropped, his ministrations froze. all you did was look, your eyes wide and pleading. begging him to just see, see why you kept coming back like his own personal lapdog.

you were moving, john tugging you closer by the ankles, strong hands moving up your calves until the rest of you was right there. he fixed the awkward angle by leaning down, one hand propped near your head, the other coming down to stroke your cheek. “say it’s true.” his eyes were still searching for something, so rare for you to see your captain look so unsure. “this couch isn’t even that comfortable so trust me, it’s true.” you had hoped humor would lighten the situation but your murmured truth made the air heavier, your heaving chest almost touching his own. “i’m too old for you.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re like four years older, get a grip.” he pinched your cheek, muttering cheeky under his breath. “i’m your captain.” your own hand came up on instinct, fingers finally touching the beard you dreamed about. the strands were soft but slightly scratchy, like he had a routine he occasionally forgot. “you’re john price. anyone who knows you knows that you won’t give me special treatment. i’ll run extra laps everyday.” your fingers were exploring now, thumb running down the bridge of his nose to the top of his lips. you both shuffled without realizing, your legs on either side of his torso, cradling his hips. his forearms bracketed your face, caging you in.

“i don’t love lightly. no friends with benefits or any of that bullshit.” you drew him in closer, one foot on his lower back until your pelvises kissed. “good. i want a man who can commit.” whatever he had been looking for, he found in your wide eyed gaze. “i’m…out of excuses.”

the kiss wiped out john’s memory of any kiss before it. it was slow and possessive, a claiming. six months of you just out of his reach would drive any man to this point, john reasoned. that’s why he took his time, exploring every angle and pressure point, searching for those breathy sighs you always made. he didn’t have to do much - one nip of the lip and you were singing for him, melting into his arms. you wrapped them around his neck, pulling him deeper. by this time next year, i’m proposing. john let the thought grow wings and fly, content to explore your touch as he wondered about white wedding cake and matching rings.

—

years later, no matter how you both decided to decorate your new house together, he insisted on a brown couch for his office. something hideous and comfortable, not matching the decor at all. something just for the two of you.

- -

price intimacy brainrot (i’m PMSing)

[luveline]

Hi Jade!! I love your writing so much! you wrote a few fics of postprison!reid with kinda shy!reader like the one where she faints and I loved that dynamic and that Reid, do you think you could write some more? pls pls pls <3333333

cw non-consensual drug use /reader is spiked 

Spencer is quite gorgeous. He has a great smile, soft and a little shy without teeth, exuberantly bright like a commercial with teeth. He’s smiling like he can read your mind now, fishing for your hand, and taking it into both of his. Your pinky in one hand and your index the other, he wriggles your hand back and forth and laughs softly. “You don’t handle inebriation well.” 

“What?” you ask, startled. You can’t believe he’s touching you like this, casual, like he’s your boyfriend. Your hot boyfriend.

“You think I’m hot?” 

You squint at him. “What?” you ask. 

He covers your hand gently with both of his. “Nevermind. Do you want something to eat now?” 

“No.” You’ll throw up. Chunks, probably, your breakfast. And it wasn’t even a healthy breakfast. It was waffles and whipped cream and then a donut on the way to the office, Spencer will be able to tell, he’s too smart, he’s too everything. 

“I’m not that smart,” he says kindly. 

That’s a straight up lie. 

He laughs heartily, at odds with his quiet talking, and you’re so confused because it’s like he’s reading your mind? Can he read your mind? There’s so much stuff about yourself you don’t want him to know, your chest hurts thinking about it, you don’t want to tell him anything—

“I think I’ll go find you a hot chocolate,” Spencer says, the sleeve of his shirt falling down unbuttoned to his wrist as he stands. He pushes it back up. He is surprisingly underdressed today and you’ve no idea why. “Does that sound nice?” 

“I don’t think you should leave.” 

“I don’t want you to tell me stuff you don’t want to tell me,” he says. 

“But if you leave I’ll be by myself.” You sound strange to your ears. Crackly, like a garden fire.

Spencer perches himself on the hospital bed next to you. You’re sitting cross-cross on the tight white and blue sheets, waiting for something? Something was supposed to happen, you know that. A doctor was going to take your blood. You look down at the crook of your elbow to find they already have, a cotton pad medical-taped to the skin. 

“I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to go,” he says, taking your arm into his hands with the same care he’d shown your fingers. He lifts the corner of the tape and begins to pull it away from the direction it had been stuck in, stretching it, and removing it from you without any pain. 

“Where did you learn that?” you ask. 

Spencer holds your arm in his hand now the cotton ball is done. “Learn what?” 

You’re not interested in asking him again. Weirdly, your throat feels dry, but you won’t tell him because he’ll offer hot chocolate again and you don’t want him to go. 

“Hey,” he says, “not going anywhere until it wears off. Not if you need me.” 

How does he always know what to say? 

“You know, why don’t you get into bed and lay down for a little bit? You must be tired, sitting up. It’s so late.” His voice is a sheet of silk. 

“I thought we were going home?” you ask. 

“We can’t, bub,” —that’s a new one— “not for now. But we will tonight, I promise.” 

“Why not now?” 

He smiles sadly. “‘Cos you’re coming down, Y/N.” 

You frown. “Oh.” 

“I know.” Spencer wraps and arm around your back. “But you’re not alone.” He ducks in until your faces are almost touching. “You know? It’ll go away soon.” 

You don’t know why you say it, but you say, “You’re so nice to me. Even when you’re scary.” 

“Am I scary?” he murmurs. 

You look at him long and hard, feeling the warm rub of his thumb as he smooths a short line into your back. Spencer is intimidating, maybe, because you hadn’t known him when he got out of prison, and he's pretty like a model, or a movie star. But he isn’t scary. That’s not the right word. 

“No,” you say. “I guess not.” You pause. “I feel weird.” 

He doesn’t laugh like you, just hugs you tighter. “It’ll get better.” 

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, sneaking onto stream

series masterlist

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

summary - little baby norris misses his dad and goes on a mission to find him, when found - it can only result in cuddles

masterlist

-

it was a quarter past six at night in the norris household, and having just finished eating, the young family parted for their different nightly duties. lando bringing finn to his bath as you began to clean up the kitchen after dinner. succeeding a few moments of your comfortable silence - which isn’t ever silence in your house, it’s the distant baby giggles and splashes in the tub and the quiet coo’s coming from your husband - you ready the house for nighttime. setting out finn’s playmat with a few toys near the sofa and dimming the lights around the home, you feel at peace. just then you hear the light laughs and footsteps as your husband comes down the hall, with a fresh and clean baby, as you're starting to put away the clean dishes.

“there’s momma! i told you she was waiting for you, bubs,” lando softly speaks to your son in his arms. 

“was someone missing me?” you turn from putting away the dinner plates in the cupboard to face your two favorite boys. 

“mommaaa” finn begins to make grabby hands in your direction as he whines, causing you to stroll over and grab him from your husband’s arms.

“been askin’ about you since the shampoo portion of the bath,” lando chuckles a bit as his left hand finds your waist to pull his little family closer to him.

“you missed me, baby?” you ask again to your son as he cuddles into your arms.

“wan’ boaf of you, momma and dada for bath time,” finn answers quietly, sleep gracing his voice in the way both you and lando cherish.

“you wanted both of us buddy? next time we’ll both be there, okay?” your husband assures your son with a ruffle of his hair. he lets out a soft ‘otay’ back to the two of you and you both are just enamored by his cuteness. lando’s hand then drops from your waist and instead moves to your head, bringing it closer for him to plant a kiss on top. 

“i’m heading to stream with the boys, love. just come on in if you need anything,” your husband then dips down to plant the same kiss on his son’s head as he jokingly waves a finger in front of his face, “no trouble for momma when i’m gone, mister. no parties, no girls, no staying up and drinking too much milk,” your son just laughs at his father’s antics as they are a regular occurrence and you can’t help but join in on the amusement with your own giggles. one more kiss to your forehead and lando is heading down to his streaming room in order to get started and you make your way over to the sofa.

setting finn down on his playmat, he begins to crawl and walk around, playing with his toy cars and other sets, leaving you to finish your business in the kitchen. you had a burst of energy that night to give a thorough cleaning to your home, and it seemed like your son had that same energy as well. you were able to see the playmat from your spot in the kitchen, but didn’t have too much concern for your son’s actions due to the babyproofing lando had set up when finn began crawling and walking. 

“momma” finn calls over to you from the living room, holding his papaya car in one hand and ferrari car in the other. 

“yes, love?” you call back, peering over the kitchen island to get a look at your baby. 

“where dada?” 

“he’s in his office, baby. he’s streaming, remember?” you gently remind him, hoping he was tired enough to not have a tantrum, but not too tired where he would also have a tantrum. the joys of a toddler.

“wanna play cars with dada,” he whines a bit and you sigh, struggling to quickly figure out a response.

“what if he plays cars with you tomorrow? i’m sure he would love that and then you would have sooo much time, too!” you try to steer him into the excitement of your idea, “because you’ll have to go to bed soon, so you won’t have much time tonight,”

“boaf?” your son lets out in adorable curiousness with his question.

“not both, love. and not tonight, i’m sorry,” you gently push again, “do you want a bit of bluey before bed? you didn’t get any tv time today?” with that offer your son is vigorously nodding his head yes, leading you into a laugh as you walk over to turn it on. ‘so spoiled’ you hush out with a laugh under your breath, heading back into the kitchen to pick up where you left off. 

-

lando had been on the stream with george, alex, and charles for about half an hour. he knew that soon you would leave a gentle knock on the door, alerting him of finn’s bedtime. he would quietly pause the game, head out of the room, tuck in your son with you, say the goodnights, and then head back to his game. however, the knock he heard this time was a little different than yours, and the sound came from a lower area on the door. which only meant one thing. 

as lando pulled the door open, his son tumbled a bit from leaning against it and your husband’s father instincts cut in as he caught him, swinging his body up to his hold, “what’re ya doing, buddy?”

“miss’ you, dada,” finn quietly speaks to his father, nuzzling deep into his neck in order to achieve peak comfort. 

“aw, bubs, dada missed you too,” lando sighs while rubbing his back. even though you both didn’t want to subject finn to the public, he made appearances here and there. and with lando’s mic having been left on, he couldn’t really hide the fact that his sleepy son was in the room. the comment finn made also tugged on lando’s heartstrings, which led to his decision to climb back into his chair with the sleepy boy on his lap. lando traveling constantly for work and you not being able to follow him every time, leads him to cherish his moments he can achieve with finn. therefore, aiding in his decision to not seek you out, and instead have his son join him. 

as lando takes a seat, he announces into his mic that a ‘special guest appearance’ will be happening, and finn appears on the screen, cuddled into lando’s lap. the comments on the stream begin to go by in a frenzy, lando only picking up a few ‘awwww’ and ‘baby finn!!’ comments along the way. the boys on the stream all notice and begin to say hello as finn picks his head up to glance at his father.

“they’re all saying hi, bub. do you wanna say hi back?” lando asks gently to his quiet son.

“who dada?” his innocence shining through his wide eyes and parted lips as he stares in awe of your husband.

“well, you remember charles and alex and george, right?” lando begins, attempting to coax finn’s memory to his paddock friends, “charles drives with uncle los?” lando pushes a bit further.

“uncle los is here!” finn perks up at his favorite uncle’s name, and the boys on the stream all groan, earning a chuckle out of lando. 

“bubs, you remember them, here, look,” lando points up to the screen as his son follows his finger to see all the boys smiling and waving. finn - loving the attention, just like his father - attempts to stand up on lando’s legs, sticking a hand out to wave back. lando’s hands go straight to his son’s waist, holding him close and ultimately pulling him back down onto his lap. 

“i like your pajamas” charles laughs out through the screen, identifying finn’s bright red ferrari pj’s he attempts to wear every night.

“charles likes your jammies, buddy,” lando relays, “what do we say?”

“tank you, cha!” finn screeches out while giving a giggle. the boys all then begin to comment on how the mclaren driver’s son is eating, sleeping, and breathing ferrari - just as you quietly open the door to the room, facing right at your boys but not in view of the camera. peaking your head in, you make eye contact with lando, him giving you a non-verbal communicator that he’s got finn and you’re okay, easing the panic in your eyes. 

“momma!” finn lets out a yelp as he notices your presence.

“hi, baby. you disappeared on me, i almost had to send out a search party!” you amuse your son as he gurgles into his father’s arms. 

“i sowwy, mommy. i jus’ miss dada” he says back, furthering his cuddling into lando’s arms, who simply pulls him closer and pecks his head with a kiss whispering a ‘missed you too, buddy’. 

“it’s alright, baby. next time just tell momma before you go, okay?” kindly reassuring the boy. 

“otay, mommy,”

“but it is bedtime, mister. so say goodnight to daddy and his friends,” you nod towards lando and his set up. 

“nooo, mommy pwease! dada and i have fun!” your son gives you an adorable whine as he lays against your husband. looking up to make eye contact with him, you see lando's puppy dog eyes on full display. 

the same ones that got you to go on a date with him, the same that got you to marry him, the same that got you a baby with him, the same that have you trying for another baby with him, and the same that are going to make you say yes today and deal with a cranky little three year old tomorrow. 

lando see’s the wheels turning in your brain and decides to add on in order to hit the nail in the coffin, “please, momma. five more minutes,” your husband pleads with your son. finn looks up at his dad, then whips his head back to you and nods his head, agreeing with his father.

you let out a defeated sigh, “fine, five more minutes,” your boys begin to cheer at their victory but you cut it short with a quick finger pointed at lando, “but you’re dealing with the cranky kid tomorrow,” you bite with a smile. your son looks up at his father, letting out a ‘ooooooo, you in twouble’ leading to everyone, including the stream, erupting in laughter. 

lando shakes his head at the teasing, hugs his son tight to his chest, and replies back with his best answer, “worth it,” while shooting you a wink as you shut the door.

[darnell-la]

Sub! Logan would be so fucking hot. And the way you write him is soo good! I'd love to see your ideas about how he would act as a sub.

note: we rushed this BUT we have more. better ones coming soon!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Going to pearls,” a woman spoke as she got into his car. “What’s your name?” He asked to confirm. “Y/n,” she said. The man turned around, realizing that this young lady was alone.

Usually, he picks up a huge group. That’s why he has a limousine, but she’s alone and has no one on her guest list.

“You gonna drive, handsome?” Y/n asked. Logan quickly turned back around and began driving. He was surprised by the nickname, but he let it go. He’s been called everything by now.

Logan’s been driving for ten minutes, music low, and y/n looking out the window. He’s never felt this awkwardness because it wasn’t him and only one person in the car.

“So — Friends busy?” He asked. Y/n slowly turned her head, looking at the man in the mirror. “All canceled. As always,” she added before she looked back out of the window.

“Oh,” he said, feeling a bit bad. He could see she paid one hundred for every hour tonight, and he would be with her for six hours.

“I mean, I can talk to my job, probably give you a refund or somethin,” he said, feeling like he should help her in some way. Usually, the man couldn’t care less, but y/n’s a young woman going to a club alone.

“I’ll be fine — Guess all the drinks I bought will be for me,” she said in a low voice that pained Logan to hear. She seemed sweet, and her friends canceled out on her. All of them.

“What was this for? Like, tonight? What did you have planned for tonight?” He kept a conversation going which confused y/n. His profile says he preferred not to talk and that he wouldn’t talk first.

“Well, it’s kind of my birthday, so — Yeah,” y/n sighed. “Oh, well — Happy birthday?” He said, not knowing if it was appropriate. The woman giggled to herself at his attempt to make her feel better.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna drink? I’ve got plenty and I can’t leave with any bottles,” she said, pointing to the bottles on the table, all hard liquor and only one juice for a mixture.

“I kind of have to drive you back home,” Logan turned down her offer, which he’d never done before. “C’mon! It’s my birthday,” she smiled at the man as she raised a bottle for him to take.

Logan waved her off, wanting to be responsible and think about her life that could be at stake, but he still felt bad about the empty spaces on the couches.

“Fine, but only if you don’t report me,” he joked, making her laugh as she took a bottle herself. “Cheers to me and my only friend who showed up which is the bodyguard,” she raised her drink.

“Cheers,” the man chuckled before raising the drink to his lips. He watched the girl drink, thinking it would be a small amount like any young lady, but her — She had almost chugged half the bottle.

“Woah, bub — Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, making her roll her eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t be mad because I can drink more than you,” she said, wanting to have some kind of fun tonight. Getting her bodyguard drunk and then driving her home sounds like a fun story to tell.

“Trust me, y/n — You can’t,” he said, but y/n didn’t believe him. That was until he shrugged his shoulders and chugged the whole bottle. The expression across her face was stunned. She’s never seen anything like that before.

“What the fuck,” she whispered. “Yeah — Kinda my power,” he chuckled. The man turned around to start his job and stood outside of her closed section until she spoke.

“Wait! I-I’m kind of alone so I don’t mind if you — stay? Please, I kind of feel like shit,” she admitted. She told her friends she was completely fine about their cancellation, but she’s not. She lost a lot of money and her mood was talk.

Logan couldn’t turn the offer down just like the last, so he stayed. The two drank all night, finishing every last bottle. She even got him to dance with her which he wouldn’t have done with anyone else. He had no idea what’s gotten into him tonight.

“God, tonight was fun,” y/n said as the man turned the corner where her apartment was. “Yeah, it was,” Logan smiled as he took a quick look at the young lady who was now sitting in the passenger seat, body turned towards him.

“You don’t understand how much I appreciate you, Mister Logan. You were the best fun I’ve had in like years!” She admitted. He wasn’t scared to drink and dance like most of her friends were.

“You’re the most fun I’ve had in maybe forever,” Logan meant it, but she had no idea who this man was. She was too sad to notice when she first met him and now she’s too drunk to realize.

“Is there a way I can repay you? Maybe like a cup of tea? I don’t fuckin’ know,” y/n laughed with him. “I don’t know, hun, I kind of have to get back home,” he said.

“How far do you live from here?” She asked. “About thirty minutes,” he said. “Oh, no,” she gasped. He’d been drinking because of her, and now she was going to have him drive back and half an hour just to get him.

“Don’t worry, bub. I've been doin’ this a lot,” he said. “Yeah, but I’ll be stressed all night. Please, stay the night. I have a spare room? It’s the least I can do,” she said, sounding like a beg. “God, it’s hard to turn you down. Do you know that?” He said as y/n smiled.

Logan parked the car for the night before y/n got him situated in her spare room. “Still want tea?” She asked. “I think I’ll be fine, bub,” he said. “But a shot would due,” he added. He had seen the liquor drawer she had.

“Comin’ right up, handsome,” she said before walking off. As she did, he couldn’t help but watch her figure. He scanned her dress earlier, but she looked way better just now. Maybe it was the alcohol? He didn’t know.

“You always drink this much?” She asked. “Yeah, and you?” He asked as she handed him his shot before sitting next to him with hers. “As you can see,” she giggled.

“Cheers to a goodnight with a man I brought back from the club?” She couldn’t help herself. “Cheers,” the man downed the drink as he watched her. She’s looked so drinking…

“God, that it’s hard,” she shook her head. “Yeah,” he aimlessly said as he watched a drop of liquor roll down her lip. “Hey, c’mere,” the man said, softly turning her face before wiping the liquor from her mouth.

Y/n was shocked and silent, not knowing what to do after. That seemed so sweet, but at the same time, she was drunk out of her mind.

“They look pretty,” the man spoke, breaking the silence. His thumb grazed her bottom lip, loving the smooth feeling of them. “Really?” She asked low, feeling shy all of a sudden. She hasn’t been all night until now.

“Mhm hm,” he mumbled as he slowly leaned into her. She felt like she was in a trance the way she felt she needed to lean in. Her heart was raising until their lips touched.

At first, it was sweet and slow, maybe a little tongue but after they both opened and locked eyes, they couldn’t help it.

Y/n quickly hopped on top of Logan, now grinding on his hips as he held her up by her ass. The man was shocked at her aggression and dominance but couldn’t complain.

“You taste so good,” she said under her breath as she kissed him. “I’m glad I took you home,” she added before moving down to his neck. She felt this hard urge to mark the man she hardly knew.

“Fuck, y/n,” Logan moaned low. He knew his voice could go that high. Y/n hummed into his neck, sucking long and rough to make sure he was living here marked up.

“Can feel how hard you are. Bet you’ve been waiting for me to touch you all night, hm?” She asked, hands traveling down his stomach until she could palm his clothes cock.

“Mhm hm,” the man whined at her grip. “Words, baby,” she demanded in a soft voice. “Y-Yes, baby,” the man’s mouth went slack at her touch. “So good,” she said before pushing him down in the bed.

“Gonna be good for me tonight?” She asked as he nodded quickly. “Gonna be my birthday gift, baby?” Y/n had lifted her dress before fondling with his belt. “Yes, yes, I am,” he couldn’t hide his heavy breathing.

“Oh god — You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” Y/n pulled Logan’s cock out. He was heavy and huge. “Yes, I am,” he answered, wanting to be good for her. He wanted to make her proud. He wanted to make a woman he barely knew, proud.

“He looks hungry,” y/n stroked the man, watching his pre cum leak from the tip. Y/n spat on the man’s cock, making his eyes widen because no one has ever done that to him before. They’d just wrap their mouth around him or push him inside with no preparation.

“Gonna feel so good,” y/n lifted her hips before sliding all the way down in one go. “F-Fuck,” the man cried out, his already bucking up into her.

“Fuck — Could you be my bodyguard every night?” She jokingly asked but the man nodded back so quickly, she thought about it. Maybe he isn’t too bad. He was fun tonight. He could be fun every night.

“Gonna let me wet you every night, baby?” Y/n asked as she leaned down on his body. “Fuck, yes — I wanna be with you every night,” the man’s hips moved slightly up into y/n, causing her to clench around him from how deep he gets.

“How old are you again, baby?” Y/n asked. “Two hundred,” the man’s hands gripped y/n’s ass, not thinking about his response. “A man with a sense of humor — So hot,”

Y/n rolled her hips, grinding on the man to feel every thick and long inch in her. The way his skin rubbed her walls, made her squeeze around him. He was close but felt embarrassed about how short he was going to last.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” Y/n asked, seeing the man bite his lip, trying to focus on holding back. “C’mon — I want you to fill me,” y/n whispered in his ear before giving it a light slick.

“Fuck,” the man let out a shaky moan as his legs shook. “C’mon, baby — Cum in me,” y/n began bouncing in the man’s cock, feeling him twitch inside her. She just knew he was going to give her a big and well-needed load.

“C’mon,” y/n rode him harder, filling the room with their skin slapping against each other and her wet cunt coating his cock. “I’m cumming!” Logan warned through his teeth as his hips bucked upwards a few times.

Y/n kept riding him, mixing his seed inside of her until she felt like she had enough. “So fuckin’ good, baby. I wonder if you taste you,” y/n spoke, feeling the urge to suck him dry.

“Fuck, it’s too much,” the old man said, grilling her hips a bit tight so she could slow down, but she wouldn’t. “Oh, really?” She asked, feeling the knot grow in her stomach. She was so close.

“God- Fuck — I can’t take it, baby,” Logan tried begging her. “Yes, you can. Just a few more seconds, baby. You think you can do that?” She asked, looking into Logan’s eyes. They were glossy and full of lust.

The man nodded his head with a shaky hum, feeling the need to cum again. “Good boy,” she spoke as she leaned up, rocking her hips back and forth until she couldn’t anymore.

Y/n released on the man, earning a whine from him. After she came, he couldn’t hold himself in. He had come inside of her again. For the second time.

“Oh god,” y/n breathed out, feeling so full. “S-Sorry,” the man shook as she leaned in front of his face, hands rubbing his cheek. “Wanna feel more of you,” she said.

The man was shocked at how many times this woman could go, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to pleasure her and make her happy. He tried to be good for her. And he was for the whole night and many more.

[cavillscurls]

brat tamer old man logan + impact play? cause you know that man is so tired and has no patience for an attitude 😩

don’t gotta ask me twice

MDNI. gn!reader. roughness/manhandling. choking. sir!kink. pet names. implied spanking (i would’ve written it, but smut is not coming easy to me rn!! sorry!!)

“That’s enough outta you.”

He’s got you by the scruff of the neck, ushering you through the front door in a frenzy. He doesn’t bother to take off his shoes, or give either of you a chance to regroup. It’s straight to the bedroom.

“Been a proper brat all fuckin’ all night,” he grumbles on.

You roll your eyes, luckily out of his line of sight. It doesn’t matter what the event was. It doesn’t matter that you told him a million times you didn’t wanna go. It doesn’t matter that he told you weeks ago there was no room for discussion, that you were both expected to attend. What mattered was your behavior once the time finally came—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t do it on purpose, even just a little.

“I told you that I—”

“No. I don’t wanna hear any more of it,” he snaps, shoving you both through the bedroom door frame. As soon as you’re in, he’s in front of you. Imposing and positively fuming. The hand at the back of your neck slides around, wrapping his digits around the column of your throat and applying just enough pressure to leave you dizzied.

“I wanna hear a yes, sir, and that’s the end of it. Understand me?” He’s nearly growling, feral thing, and it turns your stomach over. You have to purse your lips to keep from smiling when he zeros in on you, forcing you to crane your neck back as he gets you nose-to-nose. He raises an eyebrow, and repeats: “You understand me, bub?”

You swallow your pride for the sake of a shorter punishment. Even if you know you’ll both enjoy it, you’re devilishly eager to get to the good part—where he fucks all his frustration right into you, and winds up praising you for taking to so well.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he grits, releasing your neck. He cocks his head towards the mattress. “Now strip. And get your ass on the bed. Hands and knees.”

[coyging]