#and if you'd like a different muse let me know

[kpop---scenarios]

Red Lights (1)

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Warning: Mentions of DV, Feeling like you're being stalked, language,

Genre: Stalker, Serial Killer

Word Count: 2k

Everything Taglist:

@wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat

@pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13

@stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez @stayatinykatsy

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

Don't look back. Don't look back. Keep running. Run faster.

You breathe heavily as you take a sharp corner, hiding yourself against the brick wall in the dark alley. You can hear the stomping of his feet from down the street, he's looking for you. You slap your hand over your mouth, trying to silence your breathing. You watch the opening of the alley, the dim light casting small shadows over the damp pavement. You're trying not to cry as you feel like your entire stomach is going to come up and out of your throat.

The footsteps slow down, now only the shuffling of his feet is what you can hear. You watch as he steps into the light.

Your breath hitches as you hold your hand over your mouth harder.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He sings, his voice is low, it's menacing.

Terrifying.

“If you think I won't find you, Y/N..” He pauses with a low chuckle. “You're sorely mistaken, my love… I always find what belongs to me.”

**

“You need a boyfriend.” Your friend, Soomi says, glancing over at you as the two of you browse through the racks of clothes.

“What I need is some new pants.” You laugh. “Not a boyfriend. I have no interest in dating again, not after Derek.” You say, shuttering at the thought of your ex boyfriend and the hell he had put you through during your short lived relationship.

“Derek was bad, yes, but not all are like that.” She says, handing you a pair of pants she had picked out for you.

“I'm sure they're not.” You smile, making your way to the change room. “But I have no interest in finding out if they are good or bad.” You finish, walking into the room, closing the curtain behind you.

“You can't let one bad experience dictate the rest of your dating life.” She sighs.

You pull open the curtain, cutting her off from what she was going to say next, glaring at her. You knew she was trying to help you, but she barely knew half of the shit you had put up with when you were with Derek, and how hard it was when you left him only weeks ago. Not to mention the fact that you were sure he was stalking you after you broke up with him. He didn't want to break up, and you'd thought he might have finally just accepted it after you blocked him on everything and moved to a different apartment but now you weren't so sure.

Your mind flashes back to a night in your old apartment, you had ordered dinner for you and Derek. You were so excited, the table looked so cute, flowers and candles, the food laid out as you waited for him to get back from work. As you heard the door unlock, your heart dropped, suddenly the rush of feeling like you somehow fucked up took over your body as he walked in the door. He loudly and aggressively took off his shoes, dropping his briefcase on the floor as he stomped towards you. You smile at him, and he shoves you against the wall, wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing tightly.

“Who the fuck is this shit for?” He snaps. You're clawing at his hands trying to peel him off of you as you desperately try to breathe.

“Y-you.” You choke out, gasping.

“Fucking whore.” He spits, releasing you to drop to the floor as he walks away, slamming the bathroom door.

You shake your head as you come back to reality. “Yeah, I know.” You sigh. “I'm just not ready yet, okay?” You half smile. She nods her head, accepting it, for now. But you knew that it wasn't the last that you'd hear about it.

A few hours later, you're laying in bed, scrolling through your phone mindlessly, not thinking about a single thing, doing whatever you want without a care in the world. It was a refreshing feeling, one that you weren't used to. When you had been with Derek, you were constantly on high alert, always tense, anxiously waiting for one of his break downs, waiting for him to snap and get mad at you for something miniscule, blowing it so out of proportion.

You shake your head at the memories, rather trying to focus on current positive things in your life. You plugged your phone in, turning on your favorite show and simply drifted off into a peaceful sleep - or what you hoped would be.

But it wasn't. You tossed and turned as your dreams became increasingly more terrifying with each turn.

Snapshots of you running down the sidewalk in the middle of the night, hiding in the alley, against the wall. Your hand covering your mouth. You can see his shadow… he's standing there, slowly walking towards where you were hiding in the dark.

“Please no.” You cry out…

Until finally, you shoot up in bed, feeling the sweat dripping from your face. Your chest throbs as you sit with your eyes closed, trying to breathe through it.

You take one more deep breath, opening your eyes, seeing the shadow of a man standing in your doorway. You close your eyes again as you let out an ear curdling scream, opening your eyes once more and seeing no one there now.

Your body shakes as you try to decide what to do. Did you call the cops? Check your apartment? You locked the door…you swore you did but now you were second guessing yourself. Did you leave a window open? Was this just a dream? Yeah that must be it, it was just a dream, maybe a figment of your imagination.

You rolled out of your bed, your legs shaking as you slowly made your way out of your room. Your fingertips hover shakily above the hallway light switch as your heart races. You can feel your face heating up as you squeeze your eyes shut, clicking the light on. You take a breath before you just barely open one eye, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Both eyes open as your heart settles down, and your anxiety slowly fades away. You shuffle through the rest of your apartment, seeing nothing out of place. Your door was locked, your windows closed. You felt safe now, safe enough to turn out all the lights once again and crawl back into your bed. Sleep came easily for the rest of the night, but the nightmares refused to fade.

**

A few days later, you're standing at the bar, grabbing four drinks to bring back to your table of friends. You walk over, setting them down in front of each girl, before taking your seat beside Soomi.

“So.” Seulgi says, clasping her hands together. “Soomi says you're refusing to go after any men ever again?” She asks, cocking her head to the side.

“Oh my god.” You laugh. “For the foreseeable future, yes I have absolutely no plans.” You say, taking a sip of your drink. The three girls stare at you, each one raising an eyebrow.

“That sounds suspicious.” Chae says, giving you a side eye as she flips her hair behind her shoulder.

“It's not suspicious.” You say. “Why is my romantic life always the topic of conversation these days?”

“Because, it's like you're living in the past with Derek. So he swore at you once or twice, that's enough to swear off all men?” Seulgi asks.

“Especially maybe one with brown hair, gorgeous eyes and the most attractive face you'd ever seen?” Soomi sings.

“Um.” You breathe. You had never told any of them the real reason you broke up with him, or the fact that you thought he was stalking you after the break up. You knew they would worry, and while you loved them for it, it would be even more relentless than the conversations about your love life. “Look at that, more drinks needed. I'll get them.” You say, standing up from your chair, and walking back to the bar. You take a seat on the stool as you wait for the bartender to be finished.

“Y/N?” You hear from behind you. You turn around, and surprisingly, you see a man that Soomi had just described.

“Yes?” You say, almost hypnotized by his looks.

“It's me.” He laughs. “Chan.”

“Okay?” You say, laughing awkwardly. You had no idea who this man was or how he knew who you were.

“Are we still on for Saturday?” He asks.

“I'm sorry…” you begin. Before you can continue, the bartender is impatiently standing in front of you waiting for you to order. You tell him what drinks you want and when you look back, Chan is gone. You pay for your drinks, bringing them back to the table. You sit down in your chair, looking at each girl.

“The weirdest thing just happened to me.” You say. “A guy just came up to me and asked if we were still on for Saturday.” You murmur.

“Oh?” Seulgi responds.

“Yeah and he knew my name.” You add, looking between each girl.

“What did you say?” Chae asks.

“I couldn't really say anything, the bartender was tapping his foot while waiting for me and when I looked back he was gone.” You explain.

“That's weird.” Seulgi murmurs, giving you an uncomfortable look.

“What did you think of him?” Soomi asks.

“Why?” You wonder.

“Just, you know, curious.” She smiles.

“He was oddly specific to someone you described earlier.” You mention.

And then it hits you.

“Oh Christ, Soomi.” You sigh. “What did you do?”

“I signed you up for a dating site!” She squeals, clapping her hands. “Chan was one of the first you matched with.”

“What about I don't want to date, do you not understand?” You ask.

“I thought maybe it would be the little push you need!” She exclaims. “You have to get back out there!”

“That's not your decision to make.” You snap. “Delete it and fucking stop. I will tell you when I'm ready!” You spit, standing up, grabbing your purse and storming out of the bar.

You walked home that night, taking your time, hoping the cool air would help you calm down. It didn't really work. You were pissed off, annoyed and hurt. She had no boundaries and didn't fucking listen. You should have to explain yourself to her why you don't want to date right now.

Your walk was quiet and uneventful. You got home and checked your phone, seeing a few missed calls and texts from the girls, but mostly from Soomi, apologizing. You decided to ignore her for the rest of the night, maybe tomorrow you'd talk to her but tonight you had no interest at all.

The next day, you were wandering around the grocery store near your house when your cart bumps into someone else's. You looked up in horror, you'd been so wrapped up in your own head tou hadn't been paying attention to where you were going.

“I'm so sorry.” You say, looking up, seeing a familiar face. “Chan.”

“Y/N.” He smiles. “No worries at all.” He finishes, pulling his cart away to move around you but for some reason you felt compelled to explain things to him.

“I didn't know!” you yell. He turns around to look at you. “About the date I mean.”

“Oh?”

“My friend signed me up for the dating site… without my knowledge.”

“Oh shit. I'm sorry.” He says. “Why would someone do that?”

“She wants me to get back out there.” You sigh.

“Well that's not her decision to decide when someone is ready.” He responds.

“That's what I said.” You giggle. “Anyways, I'm really sorry.”

“Hey, it's all good. I don't want you to feel like you're being forced.” He smiles. “But if you ever decide to change your mind… I'd love to take you out.” He says, pushing his cart away. You watch him walk away, cursing Soomi silently in your head.

“Chan, wait!” You yell out. “You know…one date couldn’t hurt… right?”

“No.” He smiles.

“One date couldn't hurt.”

**If you enjoy my writing and would like to help me keep it up, please commission a story HERE**

[slvttybvys]

@speedsterandweedster liked for a Canon Muse

"I... Had a really nice time tonight," Simon said to the other as they walked together after their... was it a date? They'd never covered if this was a date or just two friends hanging out. And given Simon's habit of falling for friends and reading into things he didn't want to assume but it had felt very... date like.

[bittcrsuite]

closed starter for @tcmbcy ♡ plot: in source ! muse: josie hall. 24-26. cannabis infused bakery owner.

"all i'm saying is that we have approximately..." she checked the time on her apple watch before sliding it off she set it on the nightstand beside the glaringly small only bed in their room. "six hours before we even need to consider our sleeping arrangements." with a small huff, josie stared at herself in the full length mirror one last time before resting her eyes on her ex. "until then, i'm going to go enjoy our vacation by the pool. are you coming?"

[crowdedmidnight]

Starter call for: @jamesfactscalvin

"You have to tell me why we're committing a felony before we do it. Not that that's going to stop us, but at least I'll have all the facts," Serena deadpanned, slipping on a pair of oversized sunglasses like she was preparing for a high-stakes heist—though, knowing her, it probably involved sneaking into a concert she didn't feel like paying for. She gave her partner-in-crime a pointed look, as if to say, I'm down for the chaos, but I need a solid backstory for when we inevitably go viral.

[tempportal]

"Okay, just—just hang on a second," Five pushes himself to his feet, dusting at least a dozen Styrofoam packing peanuts off the knees of his jeans as he goes, and picks halfheartedly through the bleak carnage of his and Viktor's truly abysmal attempt to assemble a bookshelf with no directions. He quickly finds the elusive instructional pamphlet, and hauls it out of the wreckage with a firm tug, flipping it open and scanning through the rows on rows of tiny black text... only to let out a quiet yet incredibly vehement sigh of, "Motherfucker."

IKEA Furniture, he decides, with an entirely appropriate amount of murderous rage, is going to have to answer for their sins.

Nonetheless, no one has ever achieved their ambitions in life without a fair bit of elbow grease, so he resigns himself to his fate, and returns to his spot on the carpet beside Viktor, with the all-too-short and all-too-vague pamphlet still clutched in his fist. "All right, so, it turns out that the T-peg is supposed to go into the H-slot after all. Great news for us, because I'm pretty sure we physically couldn't pry the T-peg back out at this point." He picks the aforementioned T-peg / H-slot piece out of the pile, and sets it carefully to the side — the only success in a heap of otherwise pathetic efforts. "Did you find the fourth C-bracket yet, by the way? We're still one short."

@0dd1t1es / liked

[someotherdog]

@waywordhearts / vikram & your choice of muse! (f/nb, 28+) / based off of this post, bullet point three, but vikram was just a patron instead of an employee / made in beta.

okay, so maybe he kept up with her more than he'd like to admit. vikram may have periodically looked up her up on instagram or facebook, scrolled through her feed with a joint in the other hand, and frequently thought her fiancé looked like a tool. maybe, sometimes, vikram would ask old college friends what his ex was up to, if maybe she asked around about him. it could've been possible. maybe, if he was at a bar at around midnight on a random thursday, he would've recognized his ex's current partner with their hand on someone else's ass.

it had been an innocent thing to start out with. in no way did vikram intend on spying, or even running into the fiancé in question, at that bar on a random thursday night. once he did see them, however... at first it was a questioning look, all 'hey, isn't that...?' and 'shit, i think that's...', but it quickly devolved into creepy staring. the way the affair partners were rubbing against each other and kissing as if there was buried treasure in their throats, his friends began to give vikram weird looks when they noticed that his attention had been stolen from them.

'you really that hard up, man?' gideon asked. vikram rolled his eyes, then explained what exactly he was looking at. his friend just laughed. 'maybe you should take a pic and send it to her. maybe you'll have a shot at getting her back.'

vikram had grimaced, as if that thought hadn't already occurred to him. he knew, even if her fiancé was betraying her, she'd never want to hear from him again. not after he had betrayed her, all those years ago. he wanted to be able to blame on it being young and stupid, but the truth was that he was old and stupid now, too. he had cheated on her because he was easily distracted. because he was high at a party. because he had been horny. because, ultimately, vikram wasn't a good person. and that he was stupid.

old and stupid.

he had enough of the show. excusing himself from his friends, he slipped outside and dug his phone out of his pocket. bringing up his phone contacts, he scrolled until he found her name. vikram had hoped she didn't still have his number blocked, then pressed the call button:

"uhhh. oh. hi. maybe you don't remember me? it's me, vikram, from college. anyway, i was at mcswishey's on center street and i'm pretty sure i saw your fiancé making out with someone who was obviously not you. um, i took a photo. i could send it to you, if you wanted. so, i mean i don't know. i guess i just wanted you to know? so... i'm sorry."

[handgiven]

❝ honestly i can’t sleep, so if you wanna stay up with me? ❞ ( from the staying the night prompts? )

staying the night prompts / @teengod

it's strange to see something divine confined to a body so small, so frail, yet mighty. to see your god condensed into a form that is not unnatural, for they were all made in their image, but it is nonetheless new. a child of the universe encasing a god, its molecules old as galaxies forming lips that learned to speak a cosmic blink ago, hands wielding creation when still they carry ghosts of memory of holding their parent's hand, eyes that see deep into the nature of things, a blink away from the eternal sleep that came before. a small form calling for dedication of a different kind, for protection that tugs at a cord in his chest left behind by a younger sister he failed to protect. an imprint in his chest left behind by a little girl who owed him her life.

of course, one must not look upon a god this way. god is not a child.

still, when she speaks and voices a simple request, there seems to be nothing more natural than to treat her this way. not as a lesser being, no, rather the opposite. with that deep understanding one may never bestow upon a god, but which emmanuel cannot help but inflict upon a human being when they so much as speak softly. he could almost forget it. almost. he gets lost, for a moment, but snaps back into the present, watching her, and swallowing his fear.

"— if you please. i could make us tea."

[springbreezc]

♡ — for @angclnumber​​ | continued from here

panicked eyes scan her form, verifying what ruth was saying in her claims that she was physically unharmed. the emotional damage was a different story, and guilt clogged mick’s throat. his hands hovered over her shoulders as she cried, unsure of what to do with himself and if his touch would be welcomed. “it’s not stupid,” he vehemently disagreed, his voice arguably too harsh considering the fragility of the moment. “it was a scary situation, and you never should have been involved in it. this is on me, not you. i’m the one who should be saying that i am sorry.” the words come out in a rush, finally giving in the temptation to rest his hands on her shoulders so that he can rub them in what he hoped were comforting motions. he was used to that kind of scene: people pulling out their guns when a deal couldn’t be struck, creating chaos throughout the otherwise peaceful club. “i was the one that suggested we go there.”

[thasdorah]

it's late and work prevented me from doing replies but. I'll send you ic asks or memes if you give this a like

[rpvmsx]

@elisethetraveller liked for a short starter

Somehow, Johnthaniel didn't recognize this part of the void. If that is, in fact, still where he is. You'd think after a few thousand years, he would have seen it all, but alas, not this.

The presence of another, seemingly living, thing only startled him further.

"...You're a ghost, or something. Aren't you?"

[rennisaturate]

" well i... i didn't know what to do, so i just... i panicked and i brought him inside, " daisy unwrapped the little bundle of towel in her arms to reveal a black kitten, no more than a few weeks old. " or she... i should take him to a vet right?? or... a shelter... but i kinda think maybe we should keep him. better than letting him sit around in a shelter forever... " || @goxinsane

[forestofforever]

❝ Is there nothing I can do? ❞ (/ for whichever muse fits best ^^)

"No."

Sylvester can barely squeeze out the word between his ragged gasps. Panic has once again forced him to his knees. Black spots are dotting his vision and it feels like his lungs can't get enough air, like he's drowning while on land.

It's not entirely unusual. The panic attacks are just common enough that he's no longer surprised by them, but that hasn't made it any easier to deal with them. He can't imagine a way that this stranger could help, though oddly enough, just listening to her ask the question and looking up to see if he recognizes her face at all seems to take the edge off. It's such a mundane thing, yet still unusual enough for his mind to snap out of all consuming panic he'd felt just moments ago.

"...I guess...I guess you kind of are helping though..."

He smiles weakly as he slowly forces himself to get up from the ground, as unsteady as his legs might be. He's unsure if he should thank her for stopping, for being concerned, for trying to help...or if he should apologize for the inconvenience he's caused her. He ends up doing both.

"Thanks. Sorry."

[analyticaldespair]

@metalmuseemporium liked for a starter

Junko stared at the white haired red wearing woman standing in front of her, brow raised in the only sign of surprise made evident physically. "Okay, gonna admit, seeing a literal devil was not on my bingo list of things to happen today." She mused, taking in every detail of the other. Horns seemed genuine and her crimson eyes had a supernatural gleam to them, honestly she could picture Gundham and Sonia being absolutely off the wall in this scenario. After a moment however her surprise gave way to a grin spreading across her lips.

"So are you like one of the biblical devils or something else? And what would you be needing from me?" She questioned, tilting her head, her mind working to piece together whether the other was a potential ally, enemy, or a mere observer.

[crowdedmidnight]

Closed Starter for @bewitchingbaker​

Muse: Bethany Evans [Sofia Carson, 22–29 yrs old || Witch}

Plot:  Bethany is on the run from her Witch Hunter Boyfriend, and seeks solace in Chris. She asked him to do a spell on her to forget the witch hunter.

“Chrrrrrissssss!” Beth whines loudly, pouting as she moves from the dinner table to his lap on the couch. Her arms snake around his neck, as she readjusts herself in his lap. “I think the spell is working too good.” Beth knew it was risky asking him to do the spell, but she couldn’t sleep with her mind always coming back to him. It made her start to see things that weren’t there and cause her spells to go wacky when she’d try and cast. She buries her face in his neck. “Hmmm... you actually smell really good. What are you wearing? Calvin Cline?”

[shouyuus]

─── 恋与深空 APHRODITE MADE ME!!

a mini-series of aphrodisiac-centric fics for our lnds boys bc how else do we celebrate kinktober if not under the influence? here you'll find fics that contain: sex pollen, heat-sex, and not one but two instances of sex-drug induced coitus -- don't say i didn't warn you now!

─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.ᐟ

pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged in one or all of these fics! cw and specifics below the cut. pls do have an age indicator on ur blog somewhere if ur asking to be tagged! your my mileage may vary in getting these fics out though, bc the muse is sporadic at best and nonexistent at worse, but i'll eventually have all these written... for sure! also, these summaries/tags might change slightly as i actually start to write the fics to better fit the content, but the broad storkes (ha! get it) won't change :) and without further ado -- here we go!

─── 黎深 ZAYNE

doctor, doctor!

he's not one known for overindulgence, so when he comes home from the hospital one day with flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes, you're understandably wary of his claim that he's just fine. but a few more minutes of probing reveals that he'd signed up to test a developing cure for a new strand of black-market aphrodisiacs on himself — well, you think, you might be just the person to nurse him back to health.

cw: knowing use of sex drugs, needy!zayn, internal creampies, handjobs, oral (fem receiving), face-riding, missionary

─── 祁煜 RAFAYEL

so it's that time of year again, except this year on ebb day, he's acting stranger than ever, begging you to touch him, to stay close — it isn't till he'd panting beneath you that he finally tells you the truth, that a lemurian in love reacts to ebb day differently. how differently? well, you're about to find out.

cw: heat!sex, premature ejaculation, power bottom!raf, switch!reader, cowgirl, oral (male receiving), abo-adjacent dynamics

─── 沈星回 XAVIER

it's not often that you come home to find xavier sprawled out on the bed, moaning your name, fucking his fist to the thought of you, but when you do, you can't help but wonder — what brought this on? turns out a lumiere fangirl handed him a box of chocolates and he didn't think twice about eating them. so, what better punishment is there than to let him look but not touch?

cw: unknowing use of sex drugs, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, dom!reader, sub!xavier, orgasm denial, footjobs, bit of aftercare

─── 秦彻 SYLUS

when the twins drag sylus back, squawking about how he nearly got shot, you're more than a little worried. but it quickly becomes apparent that what sylus got shot with wasn't just any normal bullet, and it won't be fatal. but, it is going to be a long, long night, and being the caring captive that you are, what to do but to dress his wounds and help him work through whatever it is that he needs working through?

cw: sex pollen, dom!sylus, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, rough sex, doggy style, creampies, backshot, hair-pulling, biting

[ddejavvu]

mean!logan noticing you’re obsessed with his biceps so he makes you use them to get off one day >:)))

Greed - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: mean!logan, degradation, arm/bicep fucking, strength/power imbalance, don't like don't read

thank you to @hanasnx for helping me workshop some possible positions, even if mine differs slightly from indy's 2 examples i had to consult the arm kink professional for guidance

"'Wish you'd speak up for yourself," Logan grunts one day, voice free of criticism but scrutinizing all the same, "Would be a hell of a lot easier to get you off."

"What?" You blink bewilderedly at him, watching as he slings a wife beater over his head, the white fabric barely stretching to cover his broad chest.

"Every time I flex my arms in front of you, you get all crazy. You never say it," Logan stands at the foot of the bed, watching as you squirm, "But I always smell it."

"Your arms are nice." You supply weakly, throat suddenly dry and hollow, "I like them."

"I know." Logan laughs, a huff that's not mean but might as well be for the way it mortifies you, "Like I said, I can tell. But you never say anything, honey. Why's that?"

You detest the way his attention is fixated solely on you. It makes you writhe in your seat, it makes an ache throb between your legs while your brain desperately grasps at straws to figure out what to say.

"I dunno," Is the brilliant response you land on, and his chest rocks with a silent scoff.

"I know why," He prods, crossing his arms. The arms that you can't stop thinking about. "You think talking about what you like is dirty, and you think you're oh-so-pure. But I can smell you- you smell filthy. You're no saint. I've had you choking on my cock before, you're not fooling me. So what do you want?"

Your eyes fall to his arms without any thought behind the motion. He notices, of course, because he's studying you for any miniscule reaction.

"That's not enough." Logan growls, frustration tinging his gruff voice, and you're sure he's smelling the growing arousal between your thighs, "I said tell me."

"I- I want..." You falter, the words on the tip of your tongue but more raunchy than you'd ever be brave enough to voice.

"If you can't ask for it, you're not getting it." Logan decides, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he tightens the way they're crossed against his chest.

You consider abandoning ship. Seceding into silence, and letting Logan down as well as yourself. Taking the safe route.

But you're throbbing. You're aching, Logan's scrutiny combined with the look of his flexed arms is sending you into overdrive, and there's a steady heartbeat between your thighs that's begging for attention. It works the same way booze does, emboldening you, and you blurt out with courage never-before-seen, "I want to ride your arms."

He looks half impressed that you'd said anything at all, and half stunned that you'd said that much, that plainly.

His brows raise, bushy and angled to create a perfect arch.

"Wow. Pretty nasty stuff." He muses, faux-considerate as if he hadn't demanded a voice from you. Still, he doesn't move- so why had he asked?

You shift gently in your seat, but his eyes track your every move like a hunter.

"Well," He lingers in place, arms still crossed, the perfect eye-candy for you, "You gonna say please, or what?"

"Please," You blurt with burning cheeks, and he snickers at your eagerness.

"See? You're not so sweet." He advances, arms coming uncrossed to brace his weight on the bed, meaning thick cords of muscle strain against the confines of his skin, showcased as he crawls towards you, "You couldn't even remember to say please, just demanded to get off on me like I'm some toy."

"Logan, that's not-"

"Inconsiderate." He decides, eyes on your body instead of your face as he scans over your thinly-clad chest, "You're only in it for the sex, aren't you, you little minx?"

"Stop." You plead, feeling as dirty as his words imply. You're not- Logan is the love of your life, but you won't pretend you hate sex with him. But he's making you feel so dirty, like a fiend who wants nothing but his dick.

His hand trails between your thighs but it's different this time, and his fingers toy with your clit only as a prerequisite. You let him open you up, you let his fingers ease your muscles looser as his mouth eases your own loose. His tongue dips inside and licks you into submission, your brain activity lowering the more he kisses you. He soon snakes his arm between your legs, offering you up your real prize: the thick, muscular width of his bicep.

It's an awkward angle, you won't lie. But squeezing your thighs around his arm presses delicious friction against your clit, and the rocking of your hips is an instinct more than it is a thought-out motion.

Logan rests on his stomach on the bed, his arm stretched out in front of him to provide your seat. It means he has to crane upwards to see you, and you thank his supernatural strength for the way that he doesn't break a sweat as you rub yourself wantonly on his arm. His face is not exactly at your own level, which means you can't kiss him silly like you want to. But craning his neck upwards means that his face lands between your tits, and you feel the rough burn of his scruff against your skin as he nestles into your warm skin.

Logan is, perhaps, the ideal individual to suit your cravings for arm muscles. Not only does he have the perfect build, but his increased strength means that he's able to bare his bicep for you to get off on, even lifting it off of the bed to offer you increased friction. Perhaps a normal man would tire in seconds, but Logan- Logan could hold on longer than you.

Grinding against the plentiful mass of muscle in his bicep means that you're rutting up against him, and you have to spread your legs as far apart as possible to ensure that your cunt is met with the already-slickened surface of Logan's bare arm. You're making a mess despite still being in your pajamas, because the shorts you'd been sleeping in offer very little fabric to defend Logan's skin from your copious arousal.

Logan nips at a spot on your left breast, humming gruffly into your chest as you gasp slightly at the intrusion. It breaks your concentration and you have to grip harder at the sheets to fall back into your laborious rhythm.

"Not easy, hm? You've gotta work for it," Logan grunts, mouth moving against your chest as he takes a nipple into his mouth, "Nasty girl, 's a real workout to fuck this dirty, isn't it?"

"Logan, I- I'm not dirty," You whimper, tears beading in your eyes at his gruff accusations, "I'm not."

His laugh is more of a bark than anything, and he ducks his head away from your chest to point with his chin at the mess you're making on his arm.

"That's not dirty? You're dripping- you're making a real mess'a my arm, sweetheart. Dirty little cunt's drooling all over me."

The image of your slick coating Logan's arm, glistening against his muscles throws your pleasure into overdrive. Your orgasm rapidly approaches, the memory of his fingers inside of you only minutes before making up completely for the lack of penetration you get from his bicep. You squeeze your thighs even tighter around Logan's arm, pinning it to your cunt with an almost painful force as you hump against it desperately.

"You're fucking filthy." Logan hisses against your tits, taking one in between his teeth and biting, hard, "Humping my arm like a damn dog. Feel good, honey? Feel how strong I am?"

He flexes harder, tenses his muscles just that much more, and you feel them stiffen impossibly harder beneath your pussy. It's that and the way he mouths at your tits, growling such indecent accusations into their flushed warmth that sends you over the edge, a feeble cry escaping your lips as your hips begin trembling, twitching as you grind against his arm impossibly faster to fulfil your orgasm.

You're sure the bedsheets have suffered your release as much as Logan's arm has, but he's never seriously chided you for making a mess, and you're sure he won't this time. He groans himself as you ride through your orgasm on his arm and you realize only now as you come down from your high that he's been rutting against the mattress, cock still trapped in the confines of his sweatpants. If he hasn't managed to get off on the mattress you'll help him now, granting him access to all the slick warmth that his arm provided.

Now the pressure of his bicep is overstimulating as it presses constantly against your cunt and you ease off of it, giving Logan a prime view of your ruined, sensitive cunt as you whine at the sensitivity.

"Impressive," He hums, "Never thought I'd have you rubbing all over my arm like that."

"It's really strong. You're- you're really strong, Logan, it's nice."

"Yeah?" He grins, more of a smirk perhaps, as something sharp invades his eyes, "All that muscle gets you going? Knowing I'm stronger than you?"

"You are," Your breath shudders as you let it out, and he pushes up on his arms, one still covered in your slick release. He seems suddenly intent on showcasing that strength difference, muscles bulging as he crawls across the mattress to slot himself on top of your fucked-out form.

"I am." He agrees, mouth pressing hungrily to yours as the same arm you'd just got off on curls around your back and cements you to him, his hips already rutting against your own, "Wanna find out how much stronger I am?"

"Yes. Logan, yes, I-" He seizes your mouth in another kiss, cutting off your desperate pleas.

"Fucking try to move." He grunts, almost a growl with how guttural and gruff it sounds against the hollow of your parted lips as his other hand holds your hip firmly, almost crushingly in place, "I'll pin you down 'n hold you still, greedy girl."