#and he’s so fucking hot doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING

[starmocha]

Head empty just thinking of wearing nothing but Zayne's large shirt, him in comfy pj's, and in the kitchen with him making hot cocoa. He lifts you up, letting you sit on his counter, and he stands in front of you with a look of absolute adoration, so you do a sneak attack and squirt whipped cream on his face. He counters and rubs his face against you, so now you're both covered in whipped cream and oh no, guess now we're just gonna have to lick each other clean and fuck on the counter, I guess oh dear how did this happen we can't let that can of whipped cream go to waste guess we're just gonna squirt it on our boobs and let him suck our titties to his heart's content because Zaynie is a good boy and Merry fucking early Christmas to the greenest flag ever. Oh, what's that we still have some whipped cream left that goddamnned can is still full guess it's all going on Zayne's massive dick and we're just gonna have to suck his co—

[crimsoncandy04]

omg love ur writing in the scaramouche tag and was wondering if i could place a request because i thought of scaramouche with a stubborn reader who refuses to submit to him so he punishes her via fucking machine until shes broken down and begging for him... its just some brainworms of mine

*scuttles out from underneath your bed and gently tucks my response underneath your pillow before returning to my nest*

Marry Christmas ya filthy animals lmao

(Hehe. I've been excited to write this)

(Bondage Scaramouche!)

You sigh softly as the gentle hum of the large vibrators fill your ears. Your wrists are handcuffed to a wall behind you on either side of your head. a locked metal chastity belt prevented the painfully enormous insertions from slipping out of your ass and cunt. This had been HIS sick way of punishing you for spitting in his face yesterday when he originally had tried to kiss you.

Scaramouche.

The fucking Balladeer.

You hated that self absorbed and condescending humanoid bastard but unfortunately for you, he had grown attracted to you.

He had wanted you.

And he had gotten you.

It was as simple as that. Or was it?

"Enjoying yourself?" A cold voice suddenly sneered from somewhere in front of you. You knew even through the blindfold that it was him. As if you could ever get off from something as disgusting and evil as what this sociopathic harbinger had done to you. Grabbing you. Pinning you to the ground beneath him as he had attempted to press his lips to yours.

He was lucky you didn't bite his tongue off instead of just spitting at him.

"Fuck you!" You hiss through your teeth. Your body is still trembling from the unwanted orgasms you were experiencing. You could hear the keys to your belt jingling from somewhere on him.

"Is that right now sweetheart? Finally come to your senses?" He reached out and ran a gloved hand across your cheek.

"Absolutely not you disgusting bastard! You know what I meant!"

A silence follows as you feel him pull away from you.

Then you feel a sharp sting in your neck.

"Ah! What the hell are you doing!? Stop!"

"You can't say I haven't been nice. I thought you would have seen reason by now but it appears your stubborn attitude will need correction first." He whispers in your ear. His cool breath sending shivers down your spine.

"This should make you a little more agreeable you ungrateful little cockroach."

You start to feel hot suddenly. You want to scream as you hear him still kneeling in front of you. Yet as you hear the click of a button being pressed and the vibrators deep in your holes start to move faster than before, you can't do anything but gasp suddenly and try in vain to close your knees and ignore the way your body quickly begins to tingle.

"I hate you! I won't... Ngh~" you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Whatever Scaramouche had injected you with was causing you to lose your composure fast. And also...become unbelievably overwhelmed with lust.

"Does it feel good? You like the way my toys are fucking that tight little cunt of yours?" He purrs as you feel him spread your knees apart and move to kneel between them. Scaramouche reaches out and pinches one of your nipples. Tugging on the sensitive peak ever so slightly as you squirm and writhe.

"You know, if you stop acting like such a pain in the ass, I could make it all better. Make the uncomfortable feeling in your body go away. Make you want me." You feel him lean in. His lips graze yours as he whispers.

"Why don't we try that kiss again hmm? This time, if you know what's good for you, you won't pull any more foolish stunts."

Before you can respond in any way, Scaramouche's lips are on yours. He moves his free hand to play with your hair as he continues to fondle your breast with the other. After a few seconds he shoves his tongue into your mouth and for a moment you almost falter. You want nothing more than to moan and cry and scream for this man to touch you. To fuck you. But as you suddenly jerk your head away and curse him under your breath, you come back to your right mind and immediately feel violated and enraged over what this lowly bastard is trying to do.

"No! How dare you! Don't touch me!"

You hear him get back to his feet. Feel his sharp and sadistic gaze on you as you are forced to cum again thanks to the toys buried in you still.

"You don't want me to lay my hands on you?" Scaramouche asks in a sinister tone. He chuckles softly.

"Well then, have it your way dear."

You try to kick as you feel him suddenly move close to you again and prick your neck a second time. But he's too fast and far too strong for any normal human to be able to apprehend on their own. And as you feel the new medicine quickly coarse through your veins and cause you to feel drowsy, you swear you hear Scaramouche laughing again and the sound of keys jingling.

You open your eyes sometime later and feel your wrists and head aching. You lift your head as best as you can in your semi-conscious state and realize that you're just dangling from the ceiling with your feet about a foot from the tatami floor beneath you. Your wrists are bound together by a red rope that is attached to a thick wooden rafter high above you. And to make things possibly even more humiliating, one of the ropes was tied carefully through your long hair and was tethered to something in your ass that caused your scalp and asshole to ache every time you tried to move your head or lower body. It was all so uncomfortable and yet you couldn't even adjust yourself without feeling your wrists burn or your hair getting yanked.

"you're finally awake. I was hoping you hadn't gone and died on me before we even got to the best part yet."

Scaramouche strode over to where you were hanging and reached out to feel your wetness. His long slender fingers easily slid into your sopping cunt and began to move. Wiggling around inside and teasing you before he abruptly removes them entirely. Leaving you irritated and slightly disappointed that he had left your aching sex empty again despite how aroused you still were from the earlier injection.

Scaramouche brings his fingers to his lips and grins mischievously as he licks them clean, commenting on how nice you taste as he watches a light blush form on your face.

"What an interesting expression. You want me to play with your cute little pussy more? Too bad. Don't blame me though. I'm simply giving you what you wanted. You don't want me to touch you. Remember?"

You felt burning hot anger suddenly rise within you. He wanted this.

That vile bastard wanted you to beg for him and plead for him to fuck you.

Archons, was he so grossly full of himself.

You grit your teeth and force yourself to glare at Scaramouche as you now struggle to fight the intense and overwhelming feeling of lust that plagued every inch of your hot feeling and quivering form.

"You won't break me you sick fucker!"

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow at your words.

"You think so huh? Well, let's just see."

He moves fast. Too fast.

One second he was standing in front of you and then you blinked and now he was behind you. You heard something big being placed just behind you. Mere inches from your throbbing sex as you hear Scaramouche comment about how he's going to enjoy watching you lose yourself after this and before you can figure out what he's planning, suddenly the sound of a machine buzzing to life fills your ears. Seconds after a thick dildo suddenly forces itself deep into your pussy and begins thrusting. Slowly at first, but after a few seconds it gets faster. You feel the silicone tip pound against your cervix. The thickness fills every inch of you and stretches your pussy to its limit. Making you shudder and finally...moan.

It was accidentally. You immediately regretted it.

But Scaramouche had heard it.

"Oh? Enjoying this are you? You seem to like my toys a lot huh?" You feel him rub his hand across your ass cheek and then squeeze a little.

"What if I were to remove this hook and fill your fat ass with something particularly large instead? Like the one in your cunt. Would you moan? Cry? Beg for more? Or would you continue with this annoying attitude of yours and let me ruin your perfect little holes in the process?"

Scaramouche suddenly slaps your ass hard. Making you whimper a little as you try to close your eyes and regain control. But as you try, suddenly another painful slap stops you.

He continues to spank you several more times before pausing and caressing your sore cheeks with his hands again. After that he began again. Your ass hurt, your pussy clenched and fluttered around the dildo as it thrust in and out of your oversensitive cunt, as the sensation of both pain and pleasure overwhelmed your senses, suddenly you gasp and let out a small whine as you feel yourself squirt.

Scaramouche laughs a little as he finally moves from behind you after that. Staring at you with a smug expression as you go limp while still being fucked by the machine behind you.

"That was quick. Clearly someone enjoyed themselves." He places his hands on either side of your face. The gesture is oddly gentle.

"Just relax. Stop fighting me. I don't want to punish you. It gets boring after a while. But if you continue to defy me, I won't hesitate to remind you of your place." One of his thumbs rubs a tear from your cheek that you weren't even aware had fallen.

"If you give in now, I can make you feel better than any mortal ever could. Don't you want that little bug? Humans like feeling good. Doesn't this all feel uncomfortable? Humiliating? I can make it stop if you just quit resisting." His touch was softer. But Scaramouche had no affection behind those indigo eyes of his as he gazed at you intensely.

You just gave him a look of reluctance as another small moan was forced out of you.

"Looks like you still need some convincing." He lets go of your face and suddenly reaches into the small pouch near his waist to retrieve a small remote. He smirks as he pushes a button and suddenly makes the dildo in your pussy begin to vibrate. He then increases the intensity. Your legs begin to shake as you finally stop trying to stay quiet.

It's too much.

"Fuck! It's hitting so deep! Scaramouche... I can't!" You try to wiggle your hips a little but the hook in your ass suddenly yanks on your hair again and you struggle to remain still.

You just...need more. You need to cum. You can't take this anymore.

Scaramouche unties his belt as he watches the machine continue to ravage you. It drops to the floor and after that you watch as he tugs down his shorts a little and reaches for his cock. He starts jerking off to the sight of you and even presses another button on the remote with his free hand that makes the dildo piston in and out faster.

"If it's too much. Just ask for me instead. Give in. And I'll make it stop." He leans in and kisses you again as he gets off to you. Swallowing your moans and sounds of pleasure as you feel yourself cum again. Finally as you feel another overwhelming wave of pleasure and swear the room sways a little around you as scara backs away, you finally give up.

"Scaramouche please fuck me. I can't stand this anymore! I want...i want your cock in me."

"Are you sure? You don't sound like you do. Maybe if you convince me I'll oblige."

Gods no.

He was making you beg.

You lowered your gaze as you felt your pride wither.

"Please Scaramouche, I don't want this fake cock in me. I want your dick. Please fuck me. Please...i need your big cock in my pussy!"

You don't even realize you're cut free from your binds after you finish pleading until you feel yourself hit the floor.

And feel Scaramouche grabbing your ass from behind.

"Who am I to deny such a needy girl? If you insist then I'll fuck you stupid you pitiful little worm."

He roughly shoves himself into your throbbing core to the hilt. Digging his nails into your hips before fucking hard into you. His movements are quick too. Scarily quick.

You feel yourself turn to jelly in his hold as he slams into your g spot and makes you squeal. You cry out as you feel yourself climax violently and yet he doesn't stop.

You don't want him too either.

"Scaramouche you feel amazing!" You gasp as you feel him reach for a tit and squeeze. His finger teasing the nipple.

"I know sweetheart. Just keep taking it. You feel so tight. Just like I knew you would." He groans before leaning down and wrapping his arms around your middle. Fucking you fast enough to make you scream as you feel yourself squirt again on his thick shaft.

"Fuck I'm gonna keep you. This cunt of yours is perfect." You hear the sound of electro before you feel it as Scaramouche suddenly tightens his hold on you and ejaculates.

A powerful jolt is sent deep into your womb and makes you climax again instantly. You feel a small lingering tingle in your belly and as Scaramouche releases you, you turn over slightly and notice that a strange mark has formed on your lower abdomen. It glows to life as Scaramouche rubs his cock against your slit and after that you feel yourself get excited again despite being beyond exhausted.

You hear him hum a little as he slowly slips into you once more.

"Don't worry about that my little insect. This just shows that you're mine and prevents you from enjoying anyone else. It has some special properties that will affect you but nothing unpleasant."

He begins to thrust again.

"After this, all I need is to knock you up. Shouldn't be too hard now that I gave you that. Then you'll be by my side forever. My pretty little toy~"

You can only feel pleasure as Scaramouche begins to use your pussy again. Deep in the back of your mind there's a small nagging feeling that this is wrong. But how could it be when everything about it just felt so right?

[turtlesinatree]

Okay but moonrose has me in a chokehold right now. 

They start out as complete strangers. Remus sees Evan as another posh, fancy pureblood who happens to be friends with Sirius's little brother. Evan sees Remus as some backwater, halfblooded jerk who happens to be friends with Regulus's older sibling. 

In 3rd year though, they realize they are both freaks (not like that ya weirdo). Evan keeps this freaky, anatomy like notebook. Has writing upon writing of bones, organs, surgeries, human decay, etc. Remus, on the other hand, has a fascination with human disease, sickness, and insects for some reason and keeps notes and research about it in a notebook. Coincidently in similar looking notebooks. They end up switching and returning. They realize their interests are kind of similar and meet up in the library. They journal, research, and bounce interesting (read: morbid and kind of messed up) ideas and thoughts off of each other. They don’t mean to keep it hidden, just never comes up around others. 

In 5th year, they both get chosen to be Prefects for their respective houses. They get to attend the meetings held every month for the Prefects, see each other at night to do rounds, etc. They grow closer and around Christmas, they both realize, oh shit, he's a freak like me and hot, why is it hot? Then proceed to do nothing about it, as one does obviously. 

While both are oblivious to each other's feelings, they aren't oblivious to their friends' feelings. Remus tells Evan about James's incessant whining and pinning over Regulus to which Evan laughs and shares that he's tired of Regulus pretending he doesn't have a fat old crush on one James Potter. They plan, they scheme (using certain perks of being Prefects) and low and behold, within a month, James and Regulus are dating. 

You'd think this wakes them up, but no. Now when 6th year hits, instead of James and Regulus, Evan is dealing with Barty and his very obvious sexual tension with his acclaimed academic rival Lily Evans. Remus finds this hilarious because he's been hearing about one Bartemius Crouch stealing and fighting for his friend's top marks for years now. So, obviously, they make another plan. And, just as last time, Lily and Barty are going out in 2 months. 

7th year rolls around and moonrose is crushing hard. Eventually, Barty and Reg corner Evan and tell him that he's stupid and to confess to the fucker that he's been pining over (or something like that, Evan was distracted). After this, Evan pulls away slightly from Remus only to realize, fuck, I am so in love with him. He immediately plans something and asks Remus out in the weirdest, freakiest way that is so insanely them. Complete with inside jokes and morbid anatomy and disease facts.  

Every one of their friend is disgusted and confused but Remus is grinning like Evan handed him a literal star. So they let it slide. Did they have any idea the two knew each other or were friends? Nope. Does it strangely work for them? Yes, absolutely. 

Just ahhhhhhhhhhhh moonrose, my little freaks and weirdos 

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 5: What Was I Fucking Surprised By?

So, as you may remember, I got into Worm thoroughly spoiled by the wiki and Wormblr and r/parahumans and r/Wormfanfic and actual Worm fanfic. I knew pretty much all the basic details of all the plot twists. And yet, of course, there are things I didn't expect, things the fandom or the wiki mislead me about, etc. Things I was surprised by.

So let's talk about a few:

Taylor Hebert: As I've said, I kind of worried, before reading Worm, that I'd find Taylor insufferable. The sort of character that tries to be a hero and then convinces themselves to do all sorts of bad stuff while telling themselves they're still a hero/good person/etc is hard to write well without being really unpleasant to read/watc/etc. Self-righteousness in general is hard to enjoy for me. Taylor, honestly, stops thinking of herself as a good person partway through the post-Levi period, in most ways, and she never gets self-righteous about it. So Taylor was much more sufferable than I thought. Which is good, because I would have dropped Worm like a hot potato if she'd been insufferable as the main POV.

Eidolon & The Endbringers: (Sounds like a band name). The whole 'you needed Worthy opponents' thing, and the way people talked about Eidolon (seriously, this fandom as a whole is hugely unfair to the guy, istg) really gave me the impression of like, this vainglorious piece of shit guy who wants adulation and doesn't care how he gets it. And like... I don't get that impression from his Interlude at all? He doesn't seem to give two shits about fame, just about knowing what he did mattered. And he knew that well before the Endbringers. Obviously, he subconsciously created them, and then [High Priest] got all goddamn malicious in his compliance but he's not the vainglorious asshole who charges off to face Scion in single combat or w/e the way the fanfiction gave me that impression. Also, like, maybe it's just me, but I define 'Worthy Opponent' as 'something the person could have a reasonable chance of defeating in a solo fight'. So for me, a worthy opponent would be a rowdy 12 year old with maybe a white belt in karate. the Endbringers are not solo-able opponents for Eidolon. So absolutely not doing what he actually wanted. I really think the fandom is unfairly hard on Eidolon.

Interlude 15.x: Look, at the risk of starting discourse - I'm sorry. I've read 15.x Backwards and forwards and there is just Nothing pointing towards rape in the text, even looking for it as I was. I really expected I'd see some line, some implication, some fucking hint and there's just... absolutely nothing. The text of Worm as written, whatever Wildbow claims he meant and whatever he did mean, does not support a rape interpretation of events. And that sure as fuck surprised me.

Extinction 8.6: The way people - and even some fics - talked about the scene where Amy messes with Taylor post-Leviathan made it sound like Amy straight up ripped off Taylor's mask or something extreme like that, and then Taylor sees unmasked Sophia while trying to run and hide after being unmasked. What we got was Amy being a bit of a bitch, deliberately refusing to answer a question Taylor asked because she knew not answering would upset the girl (not cool), Amy's bedside manner being shit, and Taylor's own paranoia (and the godawful choice of the heroes to handcuff her to the bed) filling in the blanks. And this absolutely tepid-ass shit is pointed to by people as proof that 'Amy was a bitch the whole time'.

The Leviathan Fight: It was a lot shorter than I expected. I enjoyed reading it in ways I was worried I wouldn't.

Cauldron: Now, here's the thing. Characters that do bad things, knowing they're bad, but in pursuit of a greater good? That shit is my goddamn jam. I fucking love characters like that. They're my catnip! And I went into Worm sympathetic as FUCK to Cauldron. and I come out of Worm going 'Jesus Christ what a bunch of fucking idjits!' Their shoestring illuminati was run by a bunch of teenagers who never grew up and a college student who's a worse control freak than Taylor. Their incompetence appears to be the whole point (until Wildbow's WoGs turned everything into Cauldron social engineering and he went out of his way to make a big thing about how Cauldron was totes necessary for making things better. Man just cannot shut up). They try for decades to put some final fight against Scion together, and they fail epicly. No groundwork, no real success, and they turned to ACCORD for their post-apocalyptic plans. And apparently had no plan for a mass Case-53 breakout/attack. Which is... sure a choice. Dumping the Case-53s the way they did. The choice of which Case 53s to dump (Sveta sure was a choice of who to just... let out into the world. Like, not an issue with her personally, but you don't release that kind of uncontrollable murder tentacle out into the world, maybe? Just maybe?). I went into Worm thinking I'd be on Cauldron's side, at least a little, and I came out just... god no, you people are stupid.

Amy's Birdcage Arc: I really thought we'd see more of Amy's time in the birdcage, but 16.z really was all we got.

Alexandria's Death: I don't quite know what I did expect, but I didn't expect Alexandria's death to be so goddamn Darwin-award worthy. The woman died like the biggest of CHUMPs and that was much funnier than I expected.

The Drugs are Fantastic line: I knew it was being taken out of context, but it wasn't quite in the place I expected, I'll be honest. Not sure what I did expect.

Taylor's Weaver Arc/The Timeskip: I expected... I dunno. Less of an abrupt transition, I guess? I thought the timeskip would be like, a series of small scenes skipping ahead over two years between them? Instead, right in the middle of Arc 25, it just jumps ahead two years without ceremony. Did not expect that. At all.

Slaughterhouse Nine: I was not prepared for just how goddamn boring the Nine were. I don't think I read any spoilers about how Jack Slash being boring af was the point until I'd already started the S9 arc, but I especially didn't expect how pathetically bland as characters Manny the Kinless and Burnscar and Crawler and Sibby the Friendly Neighborhood Cannibal would be. Cherish managed to be interesting by being such a failure, and Bonebitch, to my eterntal frustration, managed to be funny, but the rest? Also, I thought Manton would die in the Bay, rather than be killed unceremoniously offscreen while in Boston.

The Butcher: For a character who appears in all of two chapters, the Butcher has a much larger presence in the fandom. But that is Worm for you, because groups like the Elite and the Fallen also show up more in the fics than their presence in the main story merits (Though the Fallen have more of a presence in Ward, even if I gather Ward kinda sorta retcons like half the details or at least presents irreconcilable visions of the organization)

Empire 88: They were way out of focus, compared to how much they appear in fics. But it is fun in fics to see Nazis get beat up all the time, so this is valid. But also, like, even their post-Levi remnants were weaksauce af. Someone in a server the other day said that taking out Marquis took out an entire faction, and that Levi proved that taking out Kaiser (or Allfather before him) doesn't stop the Empire, gesturing to the Aryan's Chosen and the Pure as proof but like... lbr. Both groups were pretty damn pathetic in the post-Leviathan bay. Regardless, I expected to see more of the Nazis getting beat in Worm itself, and we really didn't. But this is one time where I don't care, because as I said, seeing Nazis get beaten up over and over again in the fanfic is fun.

Ward: I was worried reading and finishing Worm might make me want to read Ward. Thankfully, it did not. *whew*

Now, there are probably others, but nothing else as major. But there are also some things I just plain wasn't surprised by.

Amy Dallon: I went into Worm expecting her to be my blorbo, and that didn't change. She's definitely my character type. I feel the same about her storyline in Worm as I did going into it.

Tattlebitch: I expcted to hate her, and I stayed hating her. Lisa sucks. Like, she has her redeeming moments and features, but overall, I still hate Lisa.

Carol Dallon: My Sympathy for Carol remains about as theoretical as it always was.

The PRT/Protectorate: I suspected the PRT/Protectorate was not as useless and incompetent and ACAB as a lot of fics painted it and... I was right.

My Ultimate Opinion: I went into Worm thinking it wasn't really for me, but that I'd probably find it well written and that many characters would be engaging. I figured it would have massive gaping plot holes and that I would never find it to be the 'amazeballs perfect wonderful' that some people seem to find it. And yeah, I was right about that too.

[badomensgoodomens]

BAD DECISIONS

CHAPTER FIVE

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Merry christmas!!!! haven't touched bad decisions in a while because ive been hella busy, but wanted to get this out before christmas. enjoy!!

taglist at the bottom

Sunlight poured through the cracks of the floral and fading curtains, illuminating Noah's sleeping form on the bed. The room was nostalgic, filled with memorabilia from his teen years, and even his first guitar. Across the hall was Nicholas’s old bedroom, the two seeking refuge here during every work break. As the town gradually transitioned into winter, the apple trees in Nicholas’s parents backyard began to lose their leaves. Christmas was approaching rapidly. 

Christmas was a particularly hard time for Noah, his strained relationship with his family being the cause of that. Sherene welcomed him with open arms during Christmas, always buying him gifts. Her kindness was very apparent in Nicholas as he grew older,   mother like son. She made a mean mint hot chocolate, and always made it a mission to bring Noah and Nicholas one every morning. 

For Y/N, Christmas was the absolute worst time of the year. No matter how hard Nevada and Dawn tried to make December enjoyable, the memories of growing up in a dysfunctional household had left a mark that couldn’t be easily erased. The holiday, meant to bring joy and warmth, only served as a bitter reminder of everything Y/N wished they could forget.

She poured her feelings into journals – a common christmas present for her. Even when life felt right, it still was such a melancholic period of her life. Her mornings were spent sitting on the windowsill, watching the snow fall. 

Sitting beside her was a pile of letters, a series of festive cards from distant relatives. Almost all of them asked ‘how are your parents?’ It seems as though her parents couldn’t acknowledge the fact they abandoned their children, much less let the rest of the family know. Tired hands scribbled relentless harsh poetry into a leather-bound book, words poured out as tears streamed down her face. 

Most Christmases ended like this, and birthdays too. 

Christmas eve she spent sitting in bed, staring at the wall. The boys gave her time off work for Christmas, mainly so they could spend it with their own family. Instead of putting up decorations, or wrapping presents or making cookies, she soaked her pillows with tears. 

It wasn’t like she necessarily had a reason to cry, seasonal depression was a real bitch. Therapy wasn’t helping anymore, the ‘urges’ were still there, it was like a hole in the heart that could not be fixed. The city was still, for the first time in a long time. 

The clock read 12:00 am. 

The ringing of her phone made her jump out of her skin, eyes wide, once full of tears. Glancing down at the phone number, immediate recognition filled her body. She could recognise that number anywhere, the same number that used to call her every evening, asking her to come over. 

She fumbled with her phone, shaking fingers struggling to unlock it. Her body froze, contradicted between accepting or declining. It disappeared just as quickly as it came, her breathing slowed down. With shaky hands she pulled up her chats with him, sobs wracking her cold body. 

Merry Christmas, please don’t call. 

Read 12:02 am. 

NOAHS POV 

Fuck. that was a complete accident i didn’t mean to call her. 

I’d almost forgotten about her, completely wrapped up in my own life. It was dark, I was tired, and her name was right next to Jolly’s contact. The soft sound of rain echoed through my childhood bedroom, the window cracked ajar. I would most likely catch a cold considering it was the peak of winter, but the freshness kept my anxiety at bay. It was roughly the 3rd night I'd spent, staying up until midnight doing nothing. What's one to do without someone to hold close? 

Matt had found this really cute girl who works at a record shop, nicholas was still head over heels for ivy, nick was all over his neighbour, and jolly liked some redhead. It was almost like I was falling behind, I mean I'd always considered poppy an option, but that girl gets into too much controversy for my liking. With a sigh, I pulled up my notes app. The screen brightness was blinding, but I typed out some 2025 new year's resolutions. 

Get over this train wreck 

Find a new girl to cry over

I fell asleep quickly after that, not even bothering to plug my phone in, just letting whatever depressing song that was playing drown out the ridiculous thoughts flooding my mind. 

The next morning I woke up to Nicholas pounding on my bedroom door, rousing me from my slumber. I fumbled to turn the music off, smooth my hair over and open the door. “Hey man, you look like shit. C'mon we need to head into town.” I shut the door with a groan, heading towards the ensuite. Turning the shower on, hot steam filled up the room, fogging up the mirror. A random sleep token playlist on shuffle echoed through the green tiled bathroom, accompanied by soft humming as I shampooed my long hair.

The smell of citrus lingered in the confined space, long after I had gotten out of the shower, mixing with the scent of my cologne. I sat on top of the bathroom counter, tying my shoes when Nicholas walked in, mumbling about buying Ivy the perfect present. Downstairs you could hear the clatter of Sherene’s utensils as she prepared for this evening's Christmas dinner. The familiarity of it was soothing, but as I got older Christmas started to lose all meaning. 

NEUTRAL POV 

The two of them cruised into the small, snow ridden town. It was rather busy for Christmas morning, small families bundled up in winter coats, rosy cheeks and presents in hand. It was bitter sweet, remnants of noah’s broken family threatened to still linger, but noah brushed them off. It took Nicholas approximately two fucking hours to pick a present for ivy, why he didn’t buy one earlier was beyond noah, especially considering ivy would be arriving THIS EVENING. He blames it on how long TDOPOM to produce, but we finished it a month ago, and it was on its way to be released. 

Eventually Y/N returned to work, needing the money more than anything, the atmosphere was sluggish and quiet, winter still being in full effect. She sat at her desk, replying to some angry emails from suppliers and whatnot, occasionally glancing outside at the snow fall. Soft music echoed through the intricately decorated office as she drew up some plans for the new album, her tongue sticking out slightly as she focused. Vessel, who unbeknownst to y/n, had been leaning against the doorway, cleared his throat. She yelped, turning around to face him, “what?!” “will you be able to work on feb the 25th?” he asked, stepping further into the room. “Uhh, hold that thought,” she replied, flicking through her phone. “Yeah i’m free, why?” He pulled out the chair next to her, sinking down into it. “Me and the boys got invited to Bad Omens release party for their new album. I'd bring you as a plus one, but we don’t have any extra staff to run the place other than you.” he explained, resting his hands on the back of his head. “No thanks, don’t like that band,” she waved him off, turning back to her drawing pad. 

“How come?” Vessel asked, straightening up. The air in the office was seemingly thick, awkward silence filling the air. “I don’t fuck with the main dude,” she responded vaguely. He quirked a brow, “come on, spit it out.”

…

“Quite the story if i do say so myself,” Vessel laughed, standing up from his spot. “Have fun though!” she called out as the door clicked shut. She turned back to her computer with a grumble, pulling up facetime and calling her sister. 

“Who the FUCK is natasha??” Her hurried typing fills the room, accompanied by her sister. “Wait wait wait have you seen the drummer hes really cute,” “who?” “his names nick folio” “okay i’m searching him up now” 

“OH MY GOD NEVADA IVE MET HIM BEFORE” 

“OH EM GEE WHERE?!?!” 

“AT WORK!!!”

“OH MY GOD SURELY HE’LL COME BACK AND I CAN GET HIS NUMBER AND-”

“WHO THE FUCK IS NATASHA???!!!!”

hi cuties!! How is everyone??

taglist @emluvsuxo @lacy1986 @lilcrazy011 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @briefpersonenemy @niicolelynn @looney-goose @sister-sebastian @dominuslunae @supersquirrel1996 @jilliemiw86 @amelia-acero @littlebear423

[frnkiebby]

i am legitimately going to sob~🎃

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[howdoyousleep3]

never in my life have i wanted a Daddy more than i do rn 😭

[gorespawn]

also while we're here i would like to share the two iterations of tumblr user gorespawn that have existed since i abandoned this blog back in like early 2021. Who wants me

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Karlach is very very nice tree and I am a squirrel heh

If you need help with the game just ask because before BG3 I had no idea about the playstyle either-

god yeah me too, i want to climb onto Karlach's back and hang from her shoulders she is my favorite and i love her

thank you!!! i'm very slowly getting the hang of it (not that i'm good by any stretch), but i'm having fun!!

[iamanartichoke]

Last night (well, this morning, really; it was like 3am) I slipped and fell down a Loki disk horse rabbit hole and, to be frank, I am already exhausted and season 2 hasn't even started yet. I'm not gonna lie, idk if I'm going to be able to fandom-along for season 2; I might just end up quietly watching on my own and keeping my thoughts to myself. Which - isn't as fun, really, so lol fuck me I guess.

[ninja-boo]

ok nvm i got mad at transformers writing again. back out of sheer spite

[die-with-me-dazai]

Here’s your daily reminder that sh*tkoku stans don’t see dazai on his own, don’t look at his trauma, his story, his personality, only a good self projection to get with ch**y* and if you call yourself a dazai stan and ship sh*tkoku, then I have some news for you ❤️

[depresseddepot]

SPOILERS FOR THE GLORY IN THE TAGS

[feelgoodinct]

nsfw, mdni.

simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.

cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).

simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.

you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.

you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.

“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.

he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.

you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.

he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.

he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.

you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.

“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.

he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.

“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.

“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.

he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.

your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.

simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that makes you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

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mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...