#f: marvel comics

[silverskyeline]

'messy' 18+

oneshot (request) - logan learns that you can squirt, he indulges in that information (1.8k words) pairing - logan howlett (xmen) x f!reader tags - established relationship, fingering, petnames: babygirl, baby, good girl, praising, kind of overstimulation, squirting, lots of squirting, a little rough, he talks reader through it, wet mentions, reader orgasm, dirty talk, fingers in mouth, logan makes reader taste themselves.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you're splayed out on his lap on the sofa just how he likes you to be, nestled on top of his plush, firm thighs. your knees are bent with your ankles resting over either side of his legs, your back flush with his warm chest, your whole body exposed, open, for him.

logan's thick, calloused fingers lazily stroke your clit, earning soft mewls from your lips as your head tilts back over his shoulder. his other hand is ensuring his middle finger pumps in and out of you at a slow pace, your body craving those broad digits stretching your tight walls.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you're moaning, gripping his arm for dear life as you squirm in his lap, rolling your hips instinctively. it was beautiful, the way he could make you sing for him, the way he could make your body move for him with just a few simple strokes, almost like a puppet, pulling your strings. he would never consider himself your 'master', but god, you'd let him control you whenever he liked.

he smirks, nuzzling his fuzzy beard into the side of your cheek, his lips finding their place at your ear, "that feel good, baby girl?" logan asks, his voice a deep purr. he already knows the answer.

you gasp at his low-toned voice, gruff like gravel but sweet like honey, "yes. . ."

"mh, that's what i thought. . . think you can take a little more though." he huffs, slipping another finger inside.

your walls clench around the sudden new presence and you moan, loudly, craving the feeling of being filled by him in whatever capacity he's willing to give.

"that's it," he coos, picking up the pace, "good girl, gooood girl. . ." logan loves how easily he can slip inside of you, how he'd always find you dripping, cunt aching, core throbbing for him. his sensitive ears perk up at the sweet sounds of your wet pussy taking his fingers in, the wet schlick sounds filling the room.

your cheeks flush, looking down at the way his fingers are making light work of you, your shirt hiked up to expose your breasts. with the pace increasing, and the way he's so sweetly purring filthy words into your ear. . . you feel a sensation start to build.

it's. . . new, almost uncomfortable but not quite. not the same as an orgasm but almost. it pools low in your belly, just a little out of reach.

but his fingers pick up again, slamming deep inside of you, curling just enough. his fingers circling your clit remain slow in contrast, creating a dizzying combination of sensations that have you clenching around him and calling out his name over and over in some desperate plea. desperation for him to continue, for the building feeling, for him, full stop.

the feeling returns. fuck, it almost feels like you need to piss. your cheeks flush, eyes rolling back as you fight back the feeling, but he's rubbing you and touching you and fucking you too good for you to hold anything back.

"logan," you gasp, arching your back, "l-logan wait-"

but it's too late, before he even has the chance to slow down, you squirt. your juices coat his hands, his fingers, dripping down along his arm and onto the sofa below earning a gasp from both of you.

his eyes widen, stopping his movements immediately causing you to whine at the sudden lack of friction.

then there's silence, save for the lewd wet dripping from the sofa onto the hardwood floor.

your head is reeling, did. . . did you just squirt? fuck, you'd never done that before. heart pounding, you swallow hard, instinctively wanting to apologise for the mess, "shit, sorry i-"

"holy fuck. . ." he whispers shakily before you even have the chance to finish your sentence, "where were you hidin' that from me?" you can hear the smirk in his voice clear as day as he talks into your ear.

"what?" you whisper.

he smirks, kissing your ear, "you didn't tell me you could make cute little messes like that, baby."

"i didn't know i could. . ." you admit, biting your lip as you feel the cool air of the room brush against your dripping sensitive core.

logan's eyes widen, the implication of your words nestling deep in his brain, and groin. he was the first ever to make you squirt, the first to make you feel so good that you couldn't help but make a mess for him. pride swells in his chest, manifesting in a low rumbling smug chuckle at the back of his throat.

". . .think you could make another mess for me?" he hums, his fingers on your clit slowly resuming their movements.

you whimper, the new sensation you experienced was foreign but surprisingly welcomed. you had no idea it felt that good, that you could ever do that. but logan has a way of coaxing everything out of you, cock and fingers playing you like an instrument he's mastered.

"don't know. . ." you mumble, suddenly feeling skittish.

it's then that his fingers start fucking you again, gliding in and out easily, your fluttering hole welcoming the movement. "you can, i know you can." he encourages, nibbling at your ear, "you'll be a good girl, you'll make another mess for me, won't you?"

fuck, his words. his fucking words. every single time they had you acting crazy, letting out sounds you didn't know you could make. and he drinks them in, drinks up all those sweet little sounds from that pretty little mouth of yours that he loves so much.

you simply nod, feeling his digits pumping rougher, curling to find that sweet sweet spot once more. you're not sure if you can even do it again, but logan seems pretty fucking set on making him gush for you at least once more.

he scissors his fingers slightly, stretching you, the motion making you whine with pleasure. but when he pushes in a third finger? that's when you really start screaming for him.

"that's more like it, huh?" he grins, breathing deeply through his nose from how hard he's working you, "just needed a bit more, cus' i know you like it thick baby, don't you? like it thick like my cock?"

you want to gasp, to react to his words, but your eyes are rolling back again, mouth stuck open in an 'o' shape as you feel that sensation build once more. your body is tensing, thighs clenching, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. subconsciously you hold your breath as if that'll help. he's got you right where he wants you, right where he knows you want to be.

seconds later you're gushing, more this time - it lands on the hardwood below with a crude splash and coats his hands nicely. logan laughs, a deep dirty laugh as you writhe. he gives a gentle slap to your clit, then a firmer one, causing more to spill from you along with some squeaks.

"there we go, good girl, what a good girl. . ." you can hear the smirk in his voice, the wide grin he's wearing, the smugness lacing every word that leaves his lips, "feels good to make a mess for me, doesn't it?"

you're breathless, panting, overwhelmed in the best way. and then he speaks again.

". . . i think you can handle one more." logan purrs, movements suddenly fast and hard. his fingers fuck deep into you, curling to hit your g-spot with each calculated thrust. the fingers on your clit speed up, rubbing in practiced circles sending sparks of electricity throughout your body.

you want it too, you'd give it to him over and over again, create messes all night long if your body let you.

god you'd do anything for him, especially in that moment, and how could you not? the way his fingers play with you, toy with you, slide into you. . .

"d-don't know if i can!" you admit, huffing, trying to get more air.

but he shakes his head, "yes you can." is all he says, firmly.

and he's right. moments later you feel it pooling in your belly once more, the accompanying orgasm approaching that threatens to throw you overboard. you're lost in a sea of sensations, stars in your vision, his voice in your ear the only anchor you have to reality. you let it guide you, until you're drenching his fingers and jeans once more, voice ringing out within his bedroom as his voice coaxes and praises you softly.

his fingers on your clit come together to slap down against you, each smack against your sensitive bundle of nerves causing more to spray. you're making such a big mess, his jeans are damp. he doesn't care. this is what he wants, and fuck, if you don't feel the best you've ever felt in your entire life. . .

he keeps going, his fingers steadily pumping into you roughly, desperate to get every last drop as he feels you clamp down around his fingers. you're moaning, gasping, gripping onto his arm for dear life as you ride out your orgasm. it's too much, but it's also perfect. logan watches on in deep satisfaction as you writhe on his lap, his bulge pressing against you above him, cock twitching and rock hard just from touching you.

as your body relaxes, so do his movements, slowing down. he glides his fingers in a few times, enjoying the slick sounds they make before pulling them from your still-fluttering hole. he lazily drifts his damp digits along your tummy, leaving a trail of wetness up to your chest until it finds your mouth.

you part your lips gladly, turning your head to look up at him through hooded lids as you take his fingers in your mouth. diligently, your tongue laps at his fingers, reeling at the taste of yourself on him, dripping from him.

"good girl, you're always so fuckin' good for me. . ." he smiles, kissing your forehead as he watches you, his free hand resting on your tummy. you enjoy the feeling of his large palm against you, making you feel comforted whilst also grounding you after that whirlwind of release.

you pull his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, instead kissing along his fingers and down across the sensitive skin of his knuckles. a silent thank you, for making you feel so good.

logan watches keenly, growling quietly at the stirring in his groin. his eyes flash with something. you'd call it mischief.

your eyes flit up to his, knowing what he's thinking before he's even said it.

"wonder what else you can do. . ." he smirks, "keeping any other secrets from me?" logan asks as he rolls his hips against you, prompting you to feel how hard he is for you and you exhale, relaxing back against him.

it was funny, how he could always push you right to the edge when you think you're spent.

and yet have you craving more. . .

you grin, biting your lip, "wanna find out?"

[buckyntasha]

"thank you, Nat. You didn't need to do this." "That's true, James. But the thing is... I wanted to."

post-widow hunt buckynat quotes that will haunt me forever: an incomplete list 

“i just needed a moment.“

“stay warm.”

“i don’t need you to be my keeper.” 

“we’ll always have the moon.” 

“don’t think about nat. just… don’t.” 

“you’re more than that. you have been for a long time, it’s just gotten harder for you to remember that since – well – damn it–” “since bucky died.” 

“nobody knows the black widow like i do, after all.” 

“I know I’ll stand a better chance with you by my side.” 

“do you remember it ever being ‘just talking’ with us?”

“there are times when i… when i cling to the hope that someday you and i–” “i know. me too.” 

“shh. i’ve got you.” 

[swan-of-sunrise]

...Is Love, Sweet Love (Part II)

Summary: Eight months later, (Y/N) and her daughter Molly have settled in well at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, with (Y/N) teaching a Classical Literature class and six-year-old Molly taking courses while learning more about her telepathic skills. Charles, having fallen head over heels for the school's new professor, debates whether or not to act upon his feelings.

Pairing: Charles Xavier X F!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Yes, I know, it's slightly unhinged to write a Part II to a one-shot that I published over 2 years ago, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head and here's what I came up with! Again, "What The World Needs Now Is Love" by Jackie DeShannon partially inspired this fic, so you should totally give it a listen if you haven't heard it before :)

…Is Love, Sweet Love May 1980 Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester (Previous Chapter)

Despite living in his family’s mansion for the majority of his life and spending countless hours of his childhood eagerly exploring its sprawling grounds, Charles Xavier hadn’t truly grown to appreciate the tranquility that the estate provided until he’d re-started Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The sight of young mutants happily playing on the playground and partaking in group sports without feeling the need to hide their differences away brought a smile to Charles’ face, and the cheerful laughter of his students paired with the beautiful spring sunshine inspired him to once again enjoy his lunch outside with a good book…although, it was difficult to deny that he spent far more time listening in on Professor (Y/L/N)’s nearby Classical Literature class than actually reading his novel.

“Can anyone tell me why the characters of King Lear worship the pagan gods and not any form of Christianity?” (Y/N), who was sitting cross-legged on the grass in front of her small class, arched a brow as she surveyed the silent group of teenagers before her. “C’mon, guys, you know this. We went over the background of the play during our last lecture, and I seem to remember some of you even taking notes…” After a moment, a timid hand went up from the red-headed girl in the front and (Y/N) smiled. “Yes, Jean?”

“The play is set in ancient Britain, long before the arrival of Christianity.”

“Very good, Jean!” Jean Grey’s shoulders relaxed and beside her, her friend Jubilee gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Now, why would Shakespeare choose to set this play in this specific time period? Think about the time period in which Shakespeare lived, and what the social and political climate in England was like.” A dark-haired boy towards the back of their group raised his hand. “Go ahead, Remy.”

Remy LeBeau lowered his hand and began fiddling with his deck of playing cards as he spoke in his distinct French-Creole accent. “Well, Professor, that was when there was a lil’ trouble brewin’ ‘tween the Catholics and Protestants over there, right? He prob’ly didn’t wanna ruffle any feathers by puttin’ a popular religion in his plays, so he had his characters worship the gods from ol’ Roman mythology; anybody who’d be offended would’ve been long dead, so Willy did what any guy’d do to keep his head on his shoulders.”

Charles smiled to himself as the class laughed and (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards into a reluctant grin. “A little unorthodoxly put, Remy, but you’re absolutely correct. In the play, Lear states that-” She was cut off when the familiar sound of the school bell rang out and her students started to pack their things away. “Remember, on Monday we’ll begin performing your assigned scenes so be sure to work on memorizing your lines with your groups over the weekend. Have a good rest of your day!”

While they laughed and talked amongst themselves, the students headed back towards the mansion for their next class and with a fond smile on her face, (Y/N) looked away from them and finished packing her binders and books into her messenger bag. The novel in Charles’ hand was all but forgotten in favor of admiring his colleague and friend, who’s effortless beauty almost always succeeded in making him stutter over his words and caused him to blush in a way that he hadn’t since he was a schoolboy; she was dressed casually in a striped button-down blouse tucked into a faded pair of high-waisted jeans and well-worn Birkenstocks, with her (Y/H/C) hair pulled away from her face by a blue headband and her reading glasses dangling around her neck by a colorful beaded chain. Charles took in all of her striking figure, but it was her content smile and the happy gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes that made him release a lovelorn sigh and look down at his lap.

Charles was infatuated with Professor (Y/L/N). Well, it perhaps started out as a simple infatuation, back when she’d first arrived on his doorstep pleading for him to help her daughter; her kindness and caring nature in regards to Molly’s safety and well-being was touching, considering how many parents he’d met who were overly eager to pass their mutant children off to a complete stranger just to be rid of them. After hearing their story, he knew that she couldn’t bear to be separated from her five-year-old and so, he asked that she stay and teach at the school to ensure that they would remain together. That was eight months ago and since then, the infatuation had evolved into a full-blown romantic crush; Charles was captivated by (Y/N)’s capacity for compassion, enchanted by her quick wit and natural beauty, in awe of her progressive idealism in regards to mutant rights and more than appreciative of her boundless consideration in regards to his disability.

Yes, Charles was enamored by his school’s newest professor, but he was also plagued by insecurity. The last woman he was romantically involved with was Agent Moira MacTaggert of the CIA, all the way back in 1962 when he was a dashing young man who’d just earned his doctorate and possessed an egotistical streak wider than the English Channel; nowadays, his ego was tempered and his youthful good looks were beginning to give way to wrinkles and streaks of silver. While a ten-year age gap between two consenting adults was hardly an insurmountable obstacle to a happy relationship, a part of him couldn’t help but think that (Y/N) would be happier with someone younger than him. Both Alex and Hank thought that he was overthinking the situation, and perhaps they were right but whenever he started to consider asking her out, that little voice of doubt whispered on in the back of his mind.

“Hi Charles!”

Looking up, Charles’ face reflexively broke out into a grin when he saw (Y/N) approaching the bench he’d parked his wheelchair beside. “Hello, (Y/N)! Holding your classes outside today, I see?”

“It’s such a beautiful day, so you could hardly blame me for taking full advantage of it.” The professor adjusted the strap of her messenger bag and tilted her head as a teasing smile played across her cherry-red lips. “Enjoying your lunch outside today, I see?”

“Touché, Professor,” Charles chuckled, slipping his bookmark into his novel to mark his place and tucking it into his wheelchair’s saddle pack. “Hank seems to believe that my vitamin D levels are too low, so I decided that eating outside was the quickest way to get our resident worrywart off of my back. Not only did I soak up plenty of sun, I had the added pleasure of listening in on your fantastic lesson on Shakespeare’s King Lear; no offense to the Bard, but it’s refreshing to see an Classical Literature professor teach her students about one of his historical plays instead of one of his romances.”

(Y/N) shrugged nonchalantly, but the way she began to fiddle with her pendant revealed the bashfulness she was attempting to mask. “Well, I remember what it was like being fourteen; you’re around the same age as Romeo and Juliet, yes, but you don’t know a damn thing about love and it’s not easy to understand why they do the things they do.”

“As a former fourteen-year-old, I heartily concur. At that age, I could scarcely understand myself let alone an emotion as complex as love, no matter how beautifully Shakespeare described it,” Charles replied, looking out across the manicured grounds as he recited, “‘My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep-’”

“‘-The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite,’” (Y/N) finished and when their eyes met, Charles’ heart fluttered and he could feel his face beginning to warm; his brows rose in surprise when the professor hastily turned her head to try and hide her besotted smile, a flicker of hope igniting within him at the sight. “I, um, I-I should go and find Molly…”

“She’s at the playground with Alex’s second graders. Speaking of which, I need to speak with Alex about tomorrow’s scheduled book delivery…” Charles awkwardly cleared his throat before giving (Y/N) a tentative smile. “Would you allow me to escort you there?”

(Y/N)’s own smile widened at that. “Of course!”

While Charles wheeled himself along the stone pathway and (Y/N) kept in step with him, they eagerly discussed the school’s ongoing library expansion and all the new books they’d obtained for the students; any progress made at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters filled him with a sense of accomplishment, but expanding his ancestral home’s library was one of his greatest desires and he was thrilled that the children would soon have access to more knowledge than many of the country’s best private schools and universities. (Y/N) was just as excited about the expansion as he was, and he couldn’t help but admire the enthusiasm written across her beautiful features while he listened to her talk about all the lesson plans she’d brainstormed involving their new books.

They reached the playground sooner than Charles would’ve preferred, but his disappointment was set aside by the sight and sound of his school’s youngest students happily entertaining themselves on the elaborate structure; so many of them came from broken homes and were sent away without any second thoughts by families that couldn’t care less about them and while Charles couldn’t change their heartbreaking pasts, he did all in his power to give each and every one of his students a loving home and bright, promising futures. For the first time, I find myself truly understanding the blinding rage that fills Erik in regards to mutant rights, he thought with an inward grimace before glancing over at (Y/N) and smiling as the human woman affectionately watched her mutant daughter play, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve lost my faith in humanity’s innate goodness.

“Hi Mommy!” Molly exclaimed from the top of the structure, a toothy grin stretching across her face as she gave them both an enthusiastic wave. “Hi Professor ‘Zavier!”

“Hi Molly-Bear!” (Y/N) called back while a beaming Charles returned the little girl’s wave with one of his own. He’d always maintained that a good professor shouldn’t have favorites, but no one would blame him if he came out and admitted that Molly (Y/L/N) was – hands down – his favorite student; she was as exuberant and carefree as any human six year old, but her mutant abilities as a psychometric telepath meant that she was more insightful and tended to see the world around her with sage eyes. In truth, Molly reminded him so much of himself when he was a child and knowing first-hand how challenging having telepathic abilities at that age can be, he was grateful that he could help her by teaching her how to control and accept her gifts.

While Charles scanned the playground for Alex, he caught (Y/N) looking over at him and the tender expression on her face nearly took his breath away; she quickly looked away and pretended to adjust the fasteners of her messenger bag, but not before Charles noticed the glimmer of affection in her gorgeous (Y/E/C) eyes. A familiar whistle cut through his racing thoughts and when he glanced over, he spotted Alex leaning against a light pole that bordered the playground; a knowing smirk curved across the younger man’s face, widening as he brought a hand up to his temple and wiggled his fingers to signal for Charles to read his mind.

“I told you so.”

“Alex…”

“(Y/N)’s into you, Charles, and you’re clearly into her. So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

After taking a steadying breath and running an anxious hand through his hair, Charles cleared his suddenly dry throat and hesitantly spoke. “(Y/N)?” The professor looked over at him expectantly and his finger drifted upwards to loosen his shirt’s collar while he clumsily continued. “I, ah…well, I-I was wondering if I…(Y/N), would you and Molly care to join me for dinner sometime? There’s a wonderful Italian restaurant in Salem Center and a little movie theater just down the street from it that I think you’ll enjoy…”

(Y/N) blinked, looking dumbfounded but slightly hopeful as she took a moment to find her voice. “Charles, are you asking me out on a date?”

Charles nodded and offered her the barest of smiles. “Over the past few months, I’ve grown…immensely fond of you; I wake up every morning looking forward to our usual discussions over breakfast, I find myself spending far too much time styling my hair and picking out what to wear in the hopes that you’ll take note and every time you smile at me, my heart skips a beat.” The professor shyly smiled at that and he couldn’t help but lightly chuckle, the weight in his chest already feeling lighter with each confession he uttered. “Yes, just like that.”

“And you…you wouldn’t mind Molly coming along?”

The anxiety that filled (Y/N)’s eyes as she awaited his answer nearly shattered Charles’ heart; based on what little she’d disclosed to him about her past, he knew that she’s struggled with dating as a single mother and he could only imagine how disillusioned with romance she’d become as a result. “Of course not, (Y/N),” He softly replied and in a bold move, he reached forward and took her hand in his. “You two are a team, after all; Molly is your entire world, and I want you to know that I respect that more than anything. It’s also…well, let’s just say that it’s been quite a while since I’ve gone on a date, and I’d…”

“Like to go slow?” (Y/N) gently offered and when Charles wordlessly nodded, she gave him the smallest of smiles before looking over her shoulder and calling out, “Molly? Sweetheart, can you come here for a second, please?” After coming down the slide, Molly skipped over to them and the professor knelt down so that they were eye-level, her hand still holding onto his. “Professor Xavier wanted to know if he could take us out for dinner and a movie. Does that sound all right to you, Molly-Bear?”

The little girl’s head tilted to the side as her (Y/E/C) eyes studied Charles, and he was forced to mask his amused chuckle with a cough when she brought a mitten-clad hand up to her mother’s ear. “Like on a date?” Molly loudly whispered, and (Y/N) pursed her lips to keep from chuckling as she nodded; her daughter lowered her hand to reveal her excited smile and she gave her mother an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Sounds good to me!” Molly looked back at Charles with a conspiratorial giggle. “Mommy likes you, Professor ‘Zavier.”

Charles arched a playful brow as his eyes flicked between the embarrassed elder (Y/L/N) and the beaming younger (Y/L/N). “She does, does she?”

“Mm-hmm, she likes your eyes and your smile and your hair and your-”

“Okay, young lady, that’s enough out of you,” (Y/N) hastily interrupted, tickling her daughter’s neck with both hands and smiling when she shrieked with laughter and scurried back to the playground. Shaking her head in fond exasperation, she stood and glanced back at Charles, who was trying and failing to muffle his laughter. “Well, I guess that settles it. Does six o’clock this Friday work for you?”

He emphatically nodded. “Yes, of course, it’s perfect!” He felt himself begin to blush at his obvious enthusiasm, and it was (Y/N)’s turn to chuckle as he awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again. “…I-I mean, Friday at six o’clock works for me.”

“Good. I guess that Molly and I will see you then.” The professor turned to walk away but took Charles by surprise when she turned back around and bashfully smiled at him. “I’ve…I’ve grown immensely fond of you too, Charles.”

Before he could say or do anything, she’d bent down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto his cheek, an infatuated gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes as she flashed him one last smile and left to meet her daughter on the playground. A broad grin slowly spread across Charles’ face and while he watched her walk away, he leaned an elbow onto his wheelchair’s armrest and rested the side of his head against his palm, releasing a love-struck sigh and barely taking note of the familiar figure that moved to stand beside him.

“See what happens when you actually take my advice?”

Charles straightened his posture and glanced over at Alex, who was wearing the smuggest of smiles on his faces as he stared back at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an impertinent ass, Alex Summers?”

Alex’s smirk widened. “Heard it all my life. So, when’s the big date?”

“This Friday at six o’clock. And since you and Hank have taken such a keen interest in my love life, I’ll be requiring your assistance on Friday.” The younger man quickly sobered and with a grin of his own, Charles chuckled and patted his arm. “There’s a good chap. Now, about tomorrow’s book delivery…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although it was a far cry from the hazy evenings spent at Oxford’s many lively pubs and in the company of the college’s most flirtatious female students, Charles’ date with (Y/N) and Molly was undoubtedly the most enjoyable one he’d ever been on. He’d met the mother and daughter in the mansion’s foyer with two bouquets in his hands – daisies for Molly and vibrant pink roses for (Y/N) – and he happily watched them admire their flowers while simultaneously hiding the fact that he was studying (Y/N)’s figure; the professor was wearing a knee-length yellow dress with long billowing sleeves, a bright pink sash tied around her waist and matching high heels, and her carefully styled hair was pulled back by a pink headband. She was beautiful, far too beautiful to be going out with the likes of him, but his fears of inadequacy were quickly alleviated when she looked over at him and smiled.

Hank and Alex drove the three of them to Salem Center in Charles’ maroon 1959 Jaguar Mark IX, the pair of them opting to stay in town and catch a showing of the newly-released The Empire Strikes Back while they dined at La Mensa. Sensing Molly’s apprehension with being around so many non-mutant strangers, Charles distracted her by playing ‘tic-tac-toe’ and ‘hangman’ with her on her paper place-mat and (Y/N) threw him a grateful look as she asked her daughter about her schoolwork; while they enjoyed their food, (Y/N) entertained them with stories of her students’ antics and after some goading by Molly, she even balanced a spoon on the end of her nose much to her daughter and Charles’ delight. After dinner, they made their way down the street to the small movie theater and while many of its patrons were queued up to watch the latest Star Wars film, the three of them decided on watching the re-release of Disney’s Lady and the Tramp; Molly adored the classic cartoon and while Charles was impartial to the film, he thoroughly enjoyed exchanging enamored glances with (Y/N) over the little girl’s head.

Molly fell asleep on the drive home, cuddling against her mother’s side as she lovingly brushed her fingers through her daughter’s (Y/H/C) hair. In low whispers, (Y/N) assured Charles that Molly had a wonderful time and that she hadn’t seen the little girl so happy since before she’d come into her mutation; although aware that Hank and Alex were clearly eavesdropping from their front seats, Charles quietly asked her if she’d care for a quick nightcap in his study after putting Molly to bed, and he was thrilled when she readily accepted his invitation. When they arrived back at the mansion, (Y/N) carried the still-sleeping Molly inside, but not before giving Charles one last smile as he maneuvered into his outside wheelchair.

“So…” Hank arched a curious brow as he walked beside Charles’ wheelchair and steadied it when they reached the top of the ramp, where Alex was waiting with his motorized indoor wheelchair. “How was it?”

“Charming, but I could’ve done without the rather offensive Asian and Italian stereotypes-”

“Not the movie, Charles, the date,” Alex interrupted and when Charles chuckled in amusement at his friends, he leaned a shoulder against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon, you finally ask out the woman you’ve been head over heels for and you’re not gonna give your two best friends the four-one-one?”

Shaking his head in faux exasperation, Charles shifted himself into his motorized wheelchair and arranged his legs as he airily answered, “(Y/N), Molly and I ate a truly magnificent meal at La Mensa that we followed up by watching a classic Disney film at the movie theater. What more is there to say?”

Alex heaved a sigh but moved to allow Charles to wheel himself into the mansion. “A little help here, Hank?”

“Oh, he’s having far too much fun messing with us to stop.” The scientist tucked his hands into his jacket pockets while a mischievous smirk played on his lips. “But speaking as the school’s resident genius, I couldn’t help but notice the good professor clearly checking (Y/N) out before we left and blushing when she smiled at him just now.”

A reluctant blush warmed Charles’ cheeks at that. “Don’t you two perverts have morning classes to prepare for?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, lover boy,” Alex smugly countered, nudging Hank’s arm with his elbow as they walked beside Charles’ wheelchair down the vacant hall to his study. “Well, Beast, there’s no doubt about it: Charles here’s got it bad for our lovely Professor (Y/L/N).”

When they reached his study’s door, Charles nudged it open and wheeled himself inside, but not before giving both men a look of genuine sincerity. “Thank you, for your assistance tonight and for your encouragement; the pair of you can occasionally be a pain in the ass, but tonight couldn’t have happened without you.”

Hank’s smile softened. “You’re welcome, Charles. We’re just happy that we succeeded in making you do something selfish for once.”

“Yeah, you’ve helped us both out so much over the years and it was high-time we returned the favor,” Alex added as he clapped Charles on the shoulder, his earnest expression morphing into a knowing smirk while he continued. “Enjoy your nightcap with (Y/N), and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, lover boy.”

“Oh, and don’t forget protection!”

“Goodnight, gentlemen.”

Chuckling, Alex and Hank left the study and closed the door behind them; after pausing for a moment to take a calming breath, Charles wheeled himself over to the oak cabinet near his cluttered desk and unlocked it, pulling out a glass decanter of scotch and two glasses and setting them down on the coffee table. He bit his lip as his eyes surveyed the messy state of his study, cursing himself for not tidying up earlier, but a part of him knew that (Y/N) wasn’t the type to mind a little clutter; she liked to joke that the best professors had the messiest studies because they spent all their time teaching instead of worrying about how others perceive them. It was the good manners instilled in him from birth that saw him gathering stacks of loose papers, binders and leather-bound books and unceremoniously shoving them behind his desk before lifting himself out of his wheelchair to sit on the couch; with nothing else to distract himself from the anxious anticipation building up within him, Charles plucked the maple-colored queen off the chessboard and nimbly twirled it around his fingers as he waited for (Y/N).

Minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the door of his study and after scrambling to straighten up his chessboard, Charles called out, “Come in!” The door opened and (Y/N) stepped into the room, her gentle smile widening when she spotted him seated on the couch. “How’s Molly?”

“Out like a light.” (Y/N) crossed the room and sat on the couch beside him, her fingers playing with the flowing yellow material of her dress’ skirt as Charles poured their drinks. “She wanted me to tell you that she had a really fun time tonight, and she wanted me to thank you.”

“She’s been working so hard these past few months to complete her schoolwork and training, so if anyone deserves to have a little fun it’s undoubtedly her,” Charles replied, a surge of fondness for his youngest student and her kindheartedness bringing a smile to her face as he turned to (Y/N) and offered her a glass of the amber-colored liquid. “As do you, Professor.”

Accepting the glass, (Y/N) hummed thoughtfully before holding it up and angling it towards him. “In that case…to having fun.”

“To having fun,” Charles repeated, lightly clinking his glass of scotch against hers and taking a sip, his eyes appreciatively roaming along the professor’s figure while she took a sip of the strong liquor. “Do you like it? It’s top shelf scotch whiskey, all the way from Scotland.”

(Y/N) arched a playful brow as she crossed her leg over her knee and angled herself to face him. “Expensive, imported liquor? Are you trying to impress me, Professor?”

“Well, that all depends…” Following his instincts, Charles set his glass down and rested his elbow on the couch’s back cushion, his lips curving into a playful grin. “Is it working?”

Her (Y/E/C) eyes softened and after setting her own glass down, she rested one of her hands on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Charles, I was impressed by you before the top shelf scotch, before the fancy Italian restaurant, and before I ever laid eyes on this beautiful mansion.” His brow furrowed in confusion but she merely smiled and rubbed small circles along his knuckles with her thumb. “Eight months ago, the letter that I sent you asking for help with Molly was my Hail Mary; I had nowhere to go and no way to protect my daughter from the people who hated her for who she was, so I decided to write to the one person I knew could help her. And when you sent me a letter back – that incredibly kind and empathetic letter – you gave me hope, hope that I hadn’t felt in so long. So, you see? You managed to impress me before we’d even met, Charles Xavier.”

Charles, touched by her sincerity and feeling a little emotional, reached forward with his free hand and carefully cradled her warm cheek in his palm. “Oh, my darling (Y/N)…you’re not the only one who’s had their hope restored; I gave up any hope for romance not long after I lost my legs, choosing to focus my attention on the school and my fellow mutants. Over these past several months, however, you helped me to see that there was still hope.” His thumb traced along her cheekbone as he smiled and slowly began to lean in. “And now, I would very much like to kiss you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

(Y/N)’s smile widened. “I’d like that very much as well, I just…” He could feel her cheek flush beneath his touch, and a look of embarrassment flashed across her face. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve done anything like this. Would it be silly to say that I’ve got butterflies in my stomach?”

“Not at all, darling. Truth be told, I’m a little nervous myself,” Charles murmured, his eyes flicking away from hers to stare at her enticing lips before glancing back up. “The last time I kissed a woman was in 1962, so you’ll have to forgive me if my technique has gotten slightly rusty over the past eighteen years.”

“Well, we won’t know unless we give it a go, will we?” (Y/N) breathed and her (Y/E/C) eyes burned with desire as they both inched closer. “Charles, dear…please kiss me.”

Wanting nothing more than to please the professor, Charles’ eyes fluttered closed as he tentatively brushed his lips against hers. (Y/N) wasted no time in returning the kiss, kissing him softly and sweetly as her hand left his to rest on the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair and eliciting a blissful groan from him; with one hand still cupping her cheek, he rested the other on her waist but soon found himself winding his arm around her in an effort to bring her closer. (Y/N)’s lips were soft and oh so addictive, slowly but firmly caressing against his as her fingers carded through his locks, and Charles surrendered himself over to the woman wrapped in his embrace.

Eventually, they were forced to separate for some much-needed air, the both of them out of breath and almost dizzy from their impromptu make-out session; Charles felt a surge of pride as he took in (Y/N)’s kiss-swollen lips, heaving chest and the dazed smile on her face, and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to lightly rub his nose against hers. When he pulled back, he huffed out a breathless chuckle at the incredulous look that she was giving him. “That’s a rusty technique?”

“Mm-hmm. Dreadful, wasn’t it?”

(Y/N) giggled at his joking question and pretended to consider it. “You know, I think I need another example before I can definitively say.” They both laughed but when Charles moved in for another kiss, a sharp twinge in his lower back caused him to recoil with a hiss of pain. “Charles, are you okay?!”

He mutely nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he straightened his posture and leaned his back against the plush couch cushions. “I’m fine, it’s just a muscle spasm.”

“Is it…?” (Y/N) trailed off and when Charles finally opened his eyes as the pain began to fade, he could see the worry written across her face. “Is it because of your spinal cord injury?”

“That, and I’m afraid that I’m getting on in years; I’m not as young and spritely as I was in 1962.” Instead of stammering out a string of apologies and getting up to leave as Charles feared she would, the corner of (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards into a lopsided grin that left him slightly confused. “(Y/N)?”

The professor shifted closer to him. “Did you know that Molly’s father was fourteen years older than me?” Charles’ brow rose in surprise and he silently shook his head, watching as she reached over and brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “You could say that I’ve always had a thing for older men…” Before he could think of something witty to say, (Y/N) swung her leg over his to straddle his lap and rested her hands on either side of his face; Charles couldn’t help but grin and, inspired by her delectable boldness, he placed his hands on her waist to hold her securely to him, his grin widening as her breath hitched. “Go ahead and read my mind if you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

Shaking his head, Charles rested his head on the back of the couch so that he was staring up at her, softly smiling as one of his hands traveled upwards to cradle her cheek. “I believe you, darling. Would it be too sappy to say that I don’t want this night to end?”

“Not at all, dear,” (Y/N) shook her head before closing the distance between them and captured his lips in another passionate kiss; when they finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against his and returned his blissful smile with one of her own. “We can make this work, can’t we? Balance the two of us with running the school and raising Molly?”

“I believe that you and I can do just about anything, so long as we’re together,” Charles replied, his thumb and forefinger moving to guide her chin forward and pouring all his emotions into another kiss; there was no place on Earth he’d rather be than in the arms of the lovely Classical Literature professor who’d captured his heart and judging by the way she kissed him back, it was clear that she was thinking something along the same lines.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I had so much fun dipping my toes back into the Fox X-Men Universe (I still have a massive thing for 80's Charles Xavier and his flowing brown hair lol) and I loved that I finally resolved Charles and (Y/N)'s mutual attraction with this cute Part II! I may or may not have a few ideas for a possible Part III, so let me know if you'd be interested in reading more! Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying!

Story Tag List: @mostlymarvelgirl @holb32 @f1uveryysblog Marvel Tag List: @brooke0297​​​​ @deadlymistletoe Permanent Tag List:​ @momc95​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​ @groovy-lady​ @yasmin12312

[lostdathomirian]

goretober day 4: gut spill

[librababe99]

Between Two Flames

cw: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, smut with plot, set during first two X- men movies, Fem!Reader, Logan/F!Reader/Scott, cunnilingus, fingering, threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all!) Word count: 3.8K 

A/N: I decided to have a little “Challengers” moment but besides that I’m a sucker for a love triangle—I hope y’all enjoy this!  As always comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

(marvel masterlist)

In the soft glow of the X-Mansion, you could feel the weight of their gazes, both so intense, yet so different in how they pinned you to the spot. Logan’s dark, smoldering eyes watched you with an animalistic hunger, while Scott’s visor hid his eyes. You could feel the intensity radiating from him, a more controlled but equally desperate need simmering beneath his calm exterior. They had both wanted you for as long as you could remember, and the tension between the three of you had been brewing just beneath the surface, ready to explode. 

It wasn't a secret anymore. The way Logan’s voice would drop an octave when he spoke to you, how his hand lingered on your lower back for a second too long. The way Scott, ever the gentleman, would make excuses to be near you, brushing your hair from your face, his fingers barely grazing your skin, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched.

You were caught between them, two powerful, extraordinary men who couldn’t be more different, but somehow both managed to make your pulse race with equal intensity. And tonight… you’d decided it was time. Time to take control. Time to stop letting them circle you like predators ready to pounce. You weren’t going to choose because, deep down, you didn’t want to. You wanted them both. And you knew they wanted you too.

The air in your room felt thick, electric with anticipation as you stood between them, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Logan, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, was tense, his jaw clenched as if he was barely holding himself back. His shirt clung to his broad chest, muscles rippling beneath the fabric, his very presence an intoxicating mix of danger and raw masculinity. Scott stood at the opposite side of the room, more controlled, but his hands fidgeted at his sides, betraying his calm façade. The tension between them was palpable, years of rivalry over you culminating in this very moment.

“I’m tired of watching you two dance around each other,” you said, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. You looked between them, feeling the weight of your decision. “I want you both. No more games. No more competition. If you want me, you’re going to have to learn to share.”

Logan’s eyes darkened, a low growl escaping his throat as he pushed himself off the wall. “You serious, sweetheart’? You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

Scott shifted his stance, his gaze flickering between you and Logan. He hadn’t expected this, but the way his lips parted and his chest rose and fell with deeper breaths told you he wasn’t about to object.

“I’ve never been more serious,” you replied, your voice laced with desire. “And if either of you doesn’t want this… you can leave now.”

Neither of them moved.

Logan took a step forward, his hand reaching for you, the heat of his touch sending shivers down your spine. His fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you closer to him until your chest was pressed against his solid frame. “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot on your skin, sending a wave of heat straight to your core.

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze, your lips parting in a soft sigh. “I didn’t think you would.”

Behind you, you could feel Scott approaching, his presence cool and steady. He came up behind you, his breath warm against the back of your neck as his hands settled on your hips. His touch was softer, more hesitant than Logan’s, but the desire that pulsed through his fingertips was just as strong.

“I’ve always wanted you,” Scott whispered, his voice strained with barely contained need. “But this… are you sure?”

You turned your head slightly, catching his gaze from the corner of your eye. “I’m sure, Scott. I want this. I want both of you.”

With that, the dam finally broke. Logan’s lips crashed against yours, demanding and rough, while Scott’s hands roamed your body, his touch igniting a different kind of fire. Logan’s hands tangled in your hair, tugging lightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth in a way that was unmistakably possessive. Behind you, Scott’s lips found the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he kissed a trail down to your shoulder, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach.

The sensations were overwhelming, two sets of hands exploring you, two mouths leaving trails of heat and want in their wake. Your head spun, but you reveled in the feeling, letting the pleasure wash over you in waves.

Logan’s hands slid down your back, gripping your ass with a possessive squeeze before lifting you effortlessly off the ground, carrying you towards the bed. He laid you down gently, his eyes dark with lust as he leaned over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Scott followed, his hands never leaving your body, his touch grounding you in the midst of the storm that was Logan’s intensity.

They worked in tandem, their rivalry momentarily set aside as they focused entirely on you. Logan stripped away your clothes with an almost feral need, while Scott’s hands caressed every inch of bare skin revealed, his touch softer, more teasing in contrast to Logan’s roughness. You moaned softly, the mix of their attention driving you to the edge.

Logan’s mouth claimed your breasts, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples while Scott’s lips found the inside of your thigh, his breath warm against your skin as he kissed his way up, his fingers brushing against your most intimate spot. You gasped, your back arching off the bed, your fingers tangling in the sheets as pleasure coursed through you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Scott murmured, his voice thick with desire as he pressed a kiss just below your navel. His fingers moved against you, slow, deliberate strokes that had your body trembling with need.

Logan growled low in his throat, his lips trailing up your body until his mouth was on yours again, his kiss hard and consuming. “She’s mine, Summers,” he muttered against your lips, though there was no malice in his voice, just the deep, primal need to claim you.

“She’s ours tonight,” Scott corrected, his eyes meeting Logan’s with a silent agreement.

Logan’s lips were fierce, his kiss a burning force that left no room for hesitation. His hands, rough and calloused, ran over your bare skin with an urgency that sent shivers racing down your spine. Every touch from him was primal, raw, as if he was claiming you in every way he could. He growled low in his throat, the deep sound reverberating against your lips as he kissed you with wild intensity, his body pressed firmly against yours.

His mouth trailed from your lips, leaving a hot path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he nipped at the sensitive spots that made you gasp. The heat of his breath against your throat had your pulse quickening, and you could feel the hard, solid strength of his body pressing into yours, his muscles taut with the need to take what he had wanted for so long.

Logan’s hands roamed lower, fingers gripping your waist, pulling your hips against his as his mouth traveled further down. His lips found your breasts, and he took one hardened nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before he sucked it gently, then harder, pulling soft moans from your lips.

Behind you, Scott was just as relentless, though his touch was more controlled, his need more restrained. His hands explored the curves of your body, his fingers brushing softly over your skin, contrasting Logan’s roughness. His lips found the nape of your neck, and the sensation of his warm breath there made you arch your back, pressing yourself further into Logan's mouth.

Scott kissed his way down your spine, his mouth hot against your skin, his hands trailing down your hips. His fingers traced the inside of your thighs, parting them slowly, teasingly, until his hand found the slick heat between your legs. His touch was soft at first, gentle, as if he was savoring every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

Logan growled again, his mouth leaving your breast with a wet pop as he glanced at Scott. “She’s ready for us,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, laced with barely controlled desire.

Scott didn’t respond, but you felt his fingers move more deliberately, sliding through your wetness with slow, deliberate strokes. He circled your clit with agonizing precision, drawing a moan from deep within you. Your body tensed, hips instinctively bucking against his hand, needing more, and yet he took his time, teasing you, building the pleasure until it was almost unbearable.

“Scott,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the sensations overwhelmed you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered softly, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers continued their rhythm, rubbing slow circles over your sensitive nub before slipping lower, pressing inside you. The feeling of his fingers stretching you, filling you, was almost too much as he worked you with practiced ease, his touch confident yet gentle, driving you to the edge.

Logan’s hands were on your hips now, lifting them slightly as he positioned himself between your legs. He was watching Scott’s fingers move, his eyes dark with lust. “Fuck, she’s so wet,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for him as he leaned down, his tongue flicking out to join Scott’s fingers.

The sensation was overwhelming, Logan’s mouth hot and demanding as his tongue licked a slow, sensual stripe over your clit, swirling around it with a skill that had you crying out in pleasure. Scott’s fingers moved in tandem with Logan’s mouth, thrusting in and out of you, stretching you as his thumb pressed against your swollen nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Your hands tangled in the sheets, your hips bucking uncontrollably as they worked together, pushing you higher and higher. Logan’s mouth was relentless, his tongue circling your clit before he sucked it into his mouth, his growls vibrating through your body, the sensation almost too much to bear. Scott’s fingers continued their steady rhythm inside you, the pressure building, coiling tighter and tighter until you felt like you were about to shatter.

“Please,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you begged for release, the pleasure teetering on the brink of being too much.

Logan’s eyes flicked up to meet Scott’s, a silent agreement passing between them. Logan’s mouth left your clit for just a moment, and then he gave you exactly what you needed, his tongue flicking rapidly over your swollen nub while Scott’s fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that had you crying out, your body trembling violently as pleasure surged through every nerve. Your hips jerked uncontrollably, your legs shaking as Logan’s mouth and Scott’s fingers didn’t stop, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you were panting, breathless, completely undone beneath them.

Logan growled in satisfaction as he finally pulled away, his mouth slick with your wetness, his eyes dark and predatory as he looked down at you. Scott slowly withdrew his fingers, his hand resting on your thigh as he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your back.

“You’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Logan rumbled, his voice low and husky as he moved over you, his body pressing you into the mattress. You could feel the hard length of him against your thigh, and your body responded immediately, desire flaring hot and fast once again.

Scott’s hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as he positioned himself behind you, his chest pressed against your back. “Let us take care of you,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he kissed the side of your neck, his fingers intertwining with Logan’s as they both prepared to claim you fully.

The air in the room was thick, humming with tension, the weight of desire almost palpable as both men converged on you. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a shared hunger that had been building for far too long, now unleashed with an intensity that left you trembling beneath their combined focus. The need to possess, to ravage, was clear in every movement, and you could feel it in the way their eyes devoured you, their bodies pressing against you, ready to take what they’d been craving for so long.

Logan hovered above you like a predator, his muscular form caging you in, every inch of him radiating heat and power. His dark eyes burned with lust, flicking over your face as his chest heaved, his body vibrating with restrained energy. His cock, hard and throbbing, pressed insistently against your thigh, the tension in him evident as he growled low in his throat, his voice rough and gravelly with want.

“Goddamn, you’ve no idea what you do to me,” he rasped, his lips curled in a feral smirk as he teased you, letting the head of his cock slide against your slick entrance, not yet entering, only heightening the delicious ache inside you. His gaze, heated and unrelenting, watched your every twitch, every moan, drinking in the sight of your body arching beneath him in anticipation.

Behind you, Scott was a steady presence, his warm breath brushing against the back of your neck as his hands held your hips, steadying you. His body, firm and solid, pressed against your back, his cock, hard and leaking, sliding between the curves of your ass. His control was fragile, his breath coming in uneven gasps as he ground himself against you, savoring the way you writhed under the weight of both their attention.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Scott murmured, his voice low, thick with need as his lips ghosted over your ear, sending shivers racing down your spine. The quiet, desperate confession stirred something deep inside you, his words full of longing as he pressed himself harder against you. His hands tightened on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself to the moment.

The tension in the room swelled, and Logan, never one for patience, shot a glance at Scott, a silent challenge that passed between them before he took what he wanted. With one powerful thrust, Logan pushed inside you, his cock sinking deep, stretching you wide. The sensation hit you like a wave, a sharp, intense pleasure mixed with just enough pain to leave you gasping, your body trembling as you cried out.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Logan growled, his voice gravelly, strained as he pulled out slowly, only to slam back into you with a force that made you see stars. He wasn’t gentle—Logan never was—but there was something intoxicating about the way he moved, his cock filling you completely with every brutal thrust, claiming you in a way that was as primal as it was electric.

Scott groaned behind you, his body tense with barely restrained desire as he watched Logan take you. “You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as his cock slid against your slick skin, aching for release. He shifted, positioning himself behind you, his hands steady as he lined himself up, his cock nudging at your tight entrance, teasing the sensitive ring of muscle.

Logan slowed his thrusts, his movements deliberate now as his eyes locked on yours, his expression raw, filled with lust and possessiveness. He reached down, brushing the damp hair from your forehead, his thumb grazing your cheek as he rasped, “You want this, baby’? Tell us. Tell us you need both of us.”

Your breath hitched, the intensity of their combined presence overwhelming, but you couldn’t deny the deep, aching need inside you. “I want it,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desire, your body arching toward them, desperate for more. “I want both of you.”

At your words, Scott pressed forward, his cock slowly stretching you as he pushed deeper, the burn intense but delicious. He was careful, deliberate, giving you time to adjust as he inched his way inside, filling you until you could feel both of them, thick and hard, stretching you to your limits. The sensation of being taken by both of them at once—Logan’s cock buried deep in your pussy while Scott’s filled your ass—was overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and pressure that made your head spin.

For a moment, the room was still, the air heavy with the sound of their ragged breathing, both men deep inside you, their bodies taut with the effort of holding back. Then Logan moved, his hips pulling back before slamming forward again, setting a punishing rhythm that had you gasping for air. The force of his thrusts pushed you further into Scott, who matched his pace, both of them moving in perfect sync, driving into you with relentless precision.

The sensation was beyond anything you’d ever felt—Logan’s rough, powerful thrusts combined with Scott’s slower, more controlled movements, both of them working together to push you higher, to drive you to the edge. Every nerve in your body was on fire, your senses overwhelmed as they claimed you, their bodies moving in perfect tandem, the heat between you building with every thrust.

Scott’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked you from behind, his cock driving deep, the friction exquisite as Logan continued to pound into you from the front. The feeling of being filled so completely, stretched by both of them, was too much—it was everything. Your body was trembling, overwhelmed with pleasure as they pushed you closer and closer to the brink.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Scott groaned, his voice thick with need as he thrust into you harder, his pace quickening as his control began to slip. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

Logan growled in response, his movements becoming more erratic, his grip on your thighs tightening as he slammed into you with renewed intensity. “Fuck… you’re gonna come for us, sweet girl’,” he rasped, his voice strained as he pounded into you, driving you toward the release that was quickly spiraling out of control inside you.

Your body was trembling, every muscle tensing as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. You could feel the heat coiling low in your belly, the sensation of both men inside you pushing you to the edge, their combined rhythm relentless, pushing you higher and higher until—

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, crashing with an intensity that left you gasping for breath, your body shaking violently as pleasure surged through every nerve. You cried out, your body arching between them, completely undone as they continued to thrust into you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were left trembling, utterly spent.

Both Logan and Scott continued their relentless pace, driving you deeper into that overwhelming pleasure. Your body tightened around them, and their groans filled the room, the sound of their need mingling with the thrum of your release. Logan’s pace became erratic, his grip on your hips bruising as he buried himself inside you with a final, powerful thrust.

“Fuck—” he growled, his voice rough as his cock pulsed deep within you, releasing his hot, thick seed. His muscles tensed, his breath ragged as he shuddered above you, his climax leaving him, but still gripping you with an unyielding possessiveness. He lingered, breath warm against your skin, before pulling out slowly, his release still slick between your thighs.

Scott, still buried in you, was close behind. He gripped your waist harder, his thrusts losing rhythm as he chased his own end, his body trembling against yours. His cock twitched inside you, and with a low, desperate groan, he came, his release filling you. His hips stilled, pressed against you as he breathed heavily, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

For a long moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your collective breaths, heavy and uneven as the intensity of what had just happened settled in. Your body was exhausted, thoroughly claimed by both men, and you couldn’t help but smile, your heart still racing from the sheer pleasure of it all.

Scott slipped out of you, his hands gently brushing your waist as he lay beside you, his body warm and spent. Logan followed suit, rolling onto the other side of you, his arm possessively draped over your waist. The two men, who had been rivals moments ago, now lay beside you, their bodies close, their breathing slowing as the intensity ebbed away.

“You okay, baby’?” Logan murmured, his rough voice soft as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his thumb brushing lazily over your hip.

You nodded, too exhausted to speak, but the contentment in your expression said enough. You were more than okay—you were completely satisfied, your body and mind still buzzing from the pleasure they had given you.

Scott leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “That was… incredible.” His voice was filled with wonder, as if he still couldn’t quite believe what had just transpired between the three of you.

You let out a soft laugh, your eyelids heavy as you nestled between them. “It was more than that,” you whispered, your voice sleepy but full of warmth. “It was perfect.”

In the quiet aftermath, with Logan’s steady presence on one side and Scott’s gentle touch on the other, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. You had wanted them both, and now, you’d had them—every inch, every moment, exactly as you had imagined.

Sleep tugged at the edges of your consciousness, but before you drifted off, you felt the two men shift closer, their bodies warm and protective against yours. In that moment, you realized that this was no longer a rivalry. They had both claimed you, yes, but they had also shared something deeper—something that could only exist between the three of you.

[furbynurby]

Wearing Mischief

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Summary: You may have treated yourself to a new set of lingerie—Loki themed lingerie… this is ridiculous.

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: 18+ | Dom!Loki/Sub!Reader, Dirty talk, Light BDSM, Vaginal Sex, Oral (Fem Recieving), Masturbation, Spanking

Okay, this was embarrassing. Too embarrassing. It was just last week, you were scrolling on your phone when an ad had popped up. Specifically for lingerie. Were you single? Yes, but you wanted to treat yourself. Clicking on it you had realized quite quickly that it was a new themed release, on the Avengers, no doubt.

At first you found it quite funny. Scrolling through the patriotic Captain America themed lingerie to Hulks signature purple and green themed. That was until you saw his. Loki’s. It was gorgeous, no question. It was themed in his signature colors; green, gold, and black. The brassiere was delicately designed, the embroidered lace resembling florals, with snakes encompassing them. A golden pendant –Loki’s helmet– sat in the middle crevice of the bra, holding the thin golden chains that ran down to your waist, before coming back up and meeting the back. The panties were much the same, deep emerald green, and two thin gold chains connecting from hip to hip. The lingerie was soft, and not too uncomfortable to wear. It was stunning.

The price may have been a little hefty, 120$, are they crazy!?, but it took only a few seconds for you to place it in your cart to order. Gosh that was stupid. Why would you do that, who would you even wear that for, you thought. Plus you and Loki were friends, or you would like to think as such. You weren’t close, by all means but he wasn’t very close with anyone. You were probably acquaintances at most in Loki's mind. When you did catch Loki in a good mood your conversations were pleasant enough, and left you wanting to know more of him. But he didn’t seem to give in that easily.

Sighing you shook the nerves off of you, you had decided not dwell on it. Quickly even forgetting that you had bought it in the first place. However just as the week rolled by Tony Stark had waltzed right up to you on the common floor, holding the package in his arm, along with another smaller one. Probably for himself.

“Hey kid, saw that you ordered something for yourself. You never ship to the tower. Whatcha’ buy?”

You immediately flushed, grabbing the package out his arms quickly. No one could read your mind here, or at least had the decency not to. However it still scared you to no end that someone knew what you had in there, and were about to exploit it everyone. Okay that probably won’t happen, but you never know.

“It’s nothing Tony, just some new clothes I bought myself. I’ve been needing to upgrade my wardrobe a little bit, my stuff is uh… kind of out of fashion… yeah.” You said waving a hand in front of you, an awkward half smile plastered on your face. You quickly turn around, not noticing the weird look Nat gives you from the other side of the room before turning to leave to your floor.

“Well, what was that?” Tony said, a bit stunned from the interaction.

“Probably a new vibrator she’s embarrassed about.” Nat said, releasing a puff of air before turning back to the tv.

And that’s what brings you to here, you standing in front of your mirror endowed in nothing but the lingerie you had bought yourself, and some gold jewelry to go with it. Before you also touched up your face, just some light makeup. Not to be so self-absorbed, but you did look great-hot, even.

Posing in front of the mirror time and time again you were starting to get a little turned on. Well, what are you kidding? You were practically dripping on the carpet. Well fuck, the scenarios running through your head a mile a minute were not helping.

What if… you stood on your knees, gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your hands caressed the soft silks, admired the intricate lace, and your stood nipples erect from the gold chains swaying slightly. You imagined it, a faceless man behind you gripping your thigh while the other hand grasps your throat. It made you clench at just the thought of it. Then it switched, you on your knees, maybe getting spanked… yeah definitely getting spanked, punished for being such a dirty girl.

“Oh yes,” you whimpered as you traced the folds of your pussy, the lace soaked from arousal. Glancing at the mirror one more time you noticed the slightly dangling golden glint on the brassiere, it was a charm of Loki’s helmet. You had almost forgotten that this was his, you don’t even know how because once you realized the scene had switched again.

Before you knew it you were scrambling up on your knees to the side of your bed, scavenging through the end table, quickly grabbing your favorite vibrator tor before making your way back to the same spot as before. Not without bringing a pillow with you. You sat back, closing your eyes letting the daydream encompass you.

You were sitting in between his leathered covered legs- you might have a thing for Loki decked out in his armor- as he caresses you from behind, your head in the crook of his neck, his tousled black hair tickling your cheekbones. You imagined his natural minty scent, mixed with his favorite woody cologne. You sat in front of the mirror, watching his every move. His long pale fingertips traveled up your ribs to your breast, groping them harshly, teasing your nipples, while you simultaneously teased yours. One of his hands left and traveled down to your aching pussy. Pushing your panties aside, your- his fingers gently stroked your lips before teasing your clit.

“Such a dirty slut, all dressed up, just for me.” He purred in your ear, pressing down on your clit just a little firmer.

“Is this what you want to be known as, Loki’s whore, always parading around in my colors to let them know who you belong to,” he chuckled, you could almost feel the vibration of it. You choked up a moan, releasing your fantasy for no more than a second when you heard the buzz of your vibrator turn on.

“Just look at you, your pussy is practically begging for me to touch it. All red and swollen, wanting, waiting for me to release you of your woes.” You whimpered at that.

You, he, continued to play with your folds and breasts as your vibe pulsed around your clit. Raising the intensity of your vibrator you basically screamed, you were so close.

“Fuck, come for me, my sweet,” his voiced faded in your head as your moans took over. You arched your back against the wooden bedframe, the rumbling of your vibrator overtook your senses.

“Fuck, yes- yes! Loki please!” You were close, so fucking close, right at the edge about to be tipped off-

“Now, this, I did not expect.”

You nearly screamed, choking up a gasp of shock before you scrambled anywhere, everywhere, for something to conceal you with. Your blankets on your bed were just too far, so you settled on the pillow behind you, yanking it from underneath to hide from him. You flush at your vibrator still buzzing on the floor, scooting slightly to where you tossed it and shut it off.

“Loki!”

“What in god's name were you doing?” He rose a dark brow, almost tauntingly as he stalked forward, you might’ve been so shocked your senses had gone blank, for all you could focus on was the slight taps his boot gave off as he stepped closer. His face might’ve been completely stoic if it wasn't for the hint of mischief resting in his eyes, and his very slightly upturned lip.

“I mean, here I was, just moments before thinking you were in some dire peril, and that you had called out to me for help,” he stopped, just a few feet ahead of you. He was close enough now you noticed the scratches on his face, he was wearing his full battle armor. He must have just gotten back from a mission. “However, you started chanting my name, like a prayer, it ran so smooth off your tongue I couldn’t help but want to hear more.”

“Tell me darling,” he chuckled, “what have you been doing?”

Your face flushed, you could practically see the steam coming off your cheeks in flares. This might’ve been a game for him, nothing more than something to pass the time, but you couldn’t help but be drawn in. Wanting more. So you played along. You opened your mouth to answer, seemingly more turned on than before, but your tongue ran dry.

His jaw clenched, his eyes flashed over you once more, “answer me.”

You swallowed down your nerves, this is unbelievable. “…I was touching myself.”

“To whom?”

“To you,” you buried your head into the pillow.

“Naughty girl,” he smirked, kneeling down next to you, grabbing the pillow off your lap before tossing it somewhere behind him. “Now what, pray tell, are you wearing?”

“I bought it, it’s… styled around you.”

“I can tell,” he growled, reaching over to gently caress the pendant between his fingers. “With this on you might as well have come to me and thrown yourself to my feet. Were you trying to capture my attention? Because you have it.” His eyes clouded over with lust as he took in your form.

You whimpered, his hand moved from the pendant to your face, taking your chin within his hand, his gaze so searing you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Were you expecting me to walk in on you, to find you in such a brazen state that all I could think to do is fuck you there, to lay my claim on you?” You kept your eyes fixed on the floor. He growled, his grip on your chin tightening, “look at me when I speak to you. Is this what you wanted, do you want me to own you, pet?”

You couldn’t help but moan at that, squeezing your legs together for some long awaited release. You nod.

“Speak.”

“I want you to own me, Loki. I want to be yours, only yours.”

He let go, his lips tracing the side of your jaw, the way he felt against you, his heated breath on your skin was all that you could feel.

“Do you truly?” He breathed.

“Yes.”

He moaned, pulling the both of you up before settling you down at the edge of the bed. His lips never left your skin, sucking at the nape of your neck, running his tongue over a particularly sensitive crevice before nipping it with his teeth. The hand that rested on your hip traveled down, squeezing the plush of your thigh before meeting your heated core. His lips traveled down to your chest as his fingers toyed with your covered core, you couldn’t help the mewls of pleasure that have been so greedily drawn from you, like a hunger that cannot be sufficed.

“As much as I love you adorned in this, so stately mine, it is much of a hindrance to what I have been wanting to see.” He kissed the top of your breast, maneuvering his other hand under your back, freeing you of your constriction before throwing the brassiere over his shoulder.

Moving back a bit he admired your bare breasts, just for his sight only. Stopping his ministrations he groped them, so soft and perky, just how he liked them. He leaned taking one his mouth, swirling his heated tongue around the erected nipple, while simultaneously pleasuring the other. He sucked the hardened bud before nipping it gently and moving to make the same with the other.

“Yes, Loki ah-.”

His lips grace you down from your breasts over your stomach, running his hands along the soft surface. “This might be one of my favorite parts of you, if it is not all of you.”

He slipped down lower, meeting your awaiting cunt, burying his nose in the lace, taking in your sweet musky scent. Giving it a kiss, he pushed the fabric aside, inserting a long pale finger, then two. Lazily pumping in and out your pussy.

“Fuck, Loki please!” You gasped, grasping at your sheets, wanting anything. Wanting him, more of him. “Please, Loki! I want- ah,” your legs jerk from pleasure as his fingers curled within you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot.

“What do you want, pet? Tell me what you need.” He smirked up at you, continuing to gently tease at your center.

You flushed, never having been so provocative before, so wanton. It almost felt constricting to say, “I want- I want… god.”

“Say it!” He slapped your thigh.

“I want your tongue in my cunt!”

He chuckled, “Of course you do, dirty girl- my dirty girl.” Ripping the remaining cloth off your legs, revealing yourself to him wholly. “Heavenly,” he breathed, peering upon you, an almost wistful look upon his eyes.

Delving back down face first, your thighs resting on his shoulder. He gave a thoughtful lick, groaning at the taste, “you are like no other, darling.”

Diving back into her quivering pussy, he licked one long stripe from the pucker of your ass, up to your clit. You tasted like honey to him, slightly salty, but not unpleasantly so. Thrusting his tongue into your whole he circled your clit. You encompassed him, it felt as if you were in him. Your scent, your touch, your voice. everything. He wanted to be consumed by you. Your hands came down, gripping his hair, pushing him deeper into your leaking pussy. He groaned. You chanted his name like it was the only word you knew.

“Loki, Loki… gods yes Loki! Fuck please!” He lapped your cunt like a dying animal, sucking on your clit.

“I’m-… I’m-!”

“Cum for me pet, cum, love.”

Loki held you, heated with overwhelming desire. Your moans and whimpers filled the room, your body trembled. A wave of bliss coursed through you as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“That was-,” Loki started, not even having the moment to finish as you tugged him up, meeting him with a heated kiss. As almost as quickly as it ignited, the shock died down, as all he could focus on was you. You could taste the remnants of his moments with you, your tongue swiping your bottom lip. The sweet tang of your arousal making you groan against his lips. It was addictive.

“Loki, please, I need you…”

“Say it, tell me what you need, I want to hear it from your lips.”

“Fuck me, Loki. Fill me with you, ruin me so no other could desire me.” You begged.

“Temptress.”

Loki magicked away any remaining clothing, positioning you on all fours. “If you are going to act like an animal in heat, I will fuck you as such,”he hissed, lining his throbbing cock at your entrance, and with one swift thrust, he buried himself deep within your tight core. You cry out in pleasure, his grip at your hips holding you in place.

“Oh, gods,” you gasped, the sensation of his thick cock filling you so completely bringing you over the edge. His thrusts were primal, ruthless, reverberating throughout your body. Every smack of his hips against your ass enamored him.

“Such a slut for me,” he lazily slapped your ass, watching it ripple from the contact. Your body burned with need, releasing a guttural moan.

“Harder, Loki!” he obliged, slapping your ass again, with enough force to bruise. Your hips bucked in response, meeting his thrust halfway.

“You’re so wet for me, have you always wanted this? For me to fuck your whorish needy cunt?” He panted, reaching down to circle your engorged clit.

“Yes, L-loki, ah need y-you,” you mewled at his touch, the way he pulsed within you. Every feral thrust makes you whimper with need.

“You’re mine now,” Loki grunted, his chest flush against your back, biting down on your neck, digging his fingernails into your plump hips. He rutted into you with a rough, animalistic ferocity. Your cunt clenching against his cock, trying to trap him within your wet heat. Lacing his finger through your hair, he heaves your head back crashing his lips and entwining his tongue against yours.

“Cum for me, darling.”

You screamed his name, your climax surging over you like a tidal wave, leaving you quivering, breathless. Riding out his own orgasm, his thrusts grew more erratic, his grip on your hips firm. He was close, so fucking close, slamming into you at an unholy pace. You could feel his cock swelling, begging to release into your awaiting heat. His eyes half-lidded, his cock diving as deep as your pussy will let him before releasing his cum within you. You let out a loud moan, feeling every spurt of his seed coating your insides, relishing the feeling. The scent of sex and sweat filled the room, Loki gently slipping his softening cock from your warmth, letting the mix of his sperm slide down your thighs.

Loki collapsed at your side, you doing the same not long after. Loki pulls you to his side, his heavy breath fanning your warmed skin as you lean against his chest. He wraps his arm around you, kissing your temple.

“You are extraordinary,” he sighs, resting his head on yours glancing down at your lips, “may I?”

You giggle, gazing up at his eyes, pretty green eyes. “You’re asking now?”

He frowned, “It’s different now, well?”

“Yes,” you say, without a second thought. Softly, he pulls you towards him, kissing you tenderly. “Loki…”

“Be mine.”

You smile wistfully, “yes, always have been.”

[fifiophobia]

Sapphics when the two girls in a love triangle fight over a guy instead of dating each other and getting over him

[stanfordsopossumhusband]

[keroppidraws]

doodle

[coredrill]

gwenpool is wearing a jacket with the aro and ace flags in the preview for her story “everything’s coming up aces” in marvel’s voices: pride 2023!!!!!

[catsuop]

I love yhe dd movie only because it has bring me to life on it's soundtrack

I mean I see this & I instantly think "mhm, this motherfucker listens to bring me to life while thinking about his sad little life" or smth

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ imagine you're wearing logans dog tags as you ride him. 18+

you're rolling your hips on him, riding him just how he wants. his firm, calloused hands grip your hips with purpose, digging into your flesh so hard it will surely leave bruises. he wants to leave bruises, evidence of how much he wants you, needs you. growling like a fucking animal as his cock slides in and out of you with ease, each slap of his hips connecting with yours earning soft moans from your lips and rough grunts from his.

he loves staring into your eyes while he fucks you, watching those pretty eyes of yours roll back into your skull - but not tonight. tonight he can't help but be mesmerised by the way his dog tags around your neck bounce each time he thrusts. the soft jingling of the metal fills his ears, adding to the sounds of skin on skin and ragged gasps.

fuck, they looked so good on you. his rough fingers trail across your lower stomach, snaking their way to the tags. the metal around your neck, a sign that he owned you, watching the metal coined with his name slap against your soft skin rhythmically.

"that's it," he yanks the chain suddenly, causing you to gasp and place your hands on his fuzzy chest to steady yourself, "atta'girl. . ." logan coos, as he pumps up into you, meeting your every movement. by now, he knows your wet hole is just aching to be filled. it started aching the moment you crawled into bed beside him.

every. single. night.

and you're his, you know you're his, you've given yourself completely to him. your hand grips around his on the tags as if solidifying this, silently granting him ownership.

logan grins, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

you looked so pretty with his name around your neck.

[ntshastark]

i'm (about to be) a child of divorce

[mikuhats]

Now draw them silly

[harryzroze]

i think he gets it, wade

[librababe99]

Kinktober Day Two: Scott Summers

Scott Summers x Fem! Reader | Sensory Deprivation |

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Sub! Scott, Dom!Reader, Sensory deprivation, p in v, cowgirl Synopsis: Scott Summers, the normally composed and in-control leader of the X-Men, explores his vulnerable side with the reader. WC: 2.4K

| Day One | | Kinktober masterlist |  | Day Three |

The low hum of the bedroom’s ambient light fills the space with a faint glow, casting soft shadows over the sleek furniture. Scott Summers, leader of the X-Men, stands before you, his muscles taut, posture rigid as he shifts from foot to foot. His lips are slightly parted, his breath coming in shallow, almost hesitant exhales, betraying the nerves beneath his usually composed exterior.

Tonight, things are different. Scott isn’t leading a mission, strategizing in the Danger Room, or donning the confident facade of Cyclops. Tonight, he's laid bare — vulnerable, and eager to explore something new under your command.

You stand a few steps away, letting the silence between you stretch for a few more moments, savoring the tension building in the air. In your hand, you hold a black silk blindfold. Soft, smooth, yet imbued with an undeniable sense of control. Scott’s ruby-quartz glasses still sit on his face, the thin barrier separating him from the world — and from you.

“Take them off,” you murmur, voice firm, yet sensual.

His hands instinctively twitch toward his glasses, and for a split second, he hesitates. Trust is something Scott doesn’t give lightly, but in this room, with you, he feels safe enough to surrender. Slowly, he removes the glasses, his eyes closed tightly as though he's afraid of what might happen if they flicker open. He holds the glasses out to you, and you take them, placing them on the nightstand.

“Good boy,” you purr, stepping closer to him. You can feel his breath catch at the praise. You’ve learned over time that even someone as strong, as commanding, as Scott craves approval in moments like these.

You reach up, gently tracing your fingers along his jawline, his sharp features softened by the flickering light. The way his body reacts to your touch — the subtle tightening of his muscles, the sharp intake of breath — sends a shiver of anticipation through you. He’s on edge, and you haven’t even begun yet.

“Tonight, you belong to me,” you whisper, your lips grazing his ear. He visibly shudders, his mouth opening as though to say something, but he quickly presses his lips together, waiting for your instruction.

You bring the silk blindfold to his eyes, sliding the cool fabric over his closed lids. The knot tightens at the back of his head, securing him in darkness, depriving him of his most relied-upon sense. Scott lets out a shaky breath as the blindfold cuts him off from the visual world, leaving him in complete submission to you.

He’s vulnerable now, and you can feel his nervousness mixing with anticipation. He’s always been the one in control — calculating, leading, always aware of his surroundings. But tonight, he’s willingly giving that power to you, and the knowledge of it makes your heart race.

You trail your fingers down his neck, slowly, deliberately, letting your nails graze his skin. His breath hitches again, his body subtly leaning into your touch. You can sense how much he’s fighting to maintain his composure, every muscle in his body taut with restraint.

“Relax,” you command softly, your hands sliding down his chest. He obeys, letting out a slow breath, his shoulders easing.

Guiding him backward, you push him gently onto the bed, his knees hitting the edge of the mattress before he sits down. You straddle his hips, pressing your body against his, feeling the tension thrumming through him like a coiled wire ready to snap. Scott’s hands hover by his sides, unsure of where to place them, but you grab his wrists and guide them above his head, securing them in place with the soft restraints you had prepared earlier.

His breathing quickens as he tests the bonds, finding himself completely at your mercy. You lean down, your lips hovering just above his. He tilts his head toward you, seeking the connection, but you pull back, teasing him, enjoying the way his body strains toward yours, desperate for contact.

“Please…” he whispers, his voice low, filled with need. It’s rare to hear Scott beg, and it sends a thrill through you.

“Not yet,” you whisper back, your lips brushing against his ear again, causing him to shudder. “You’ll get what you want when I decide you’ve earned it.”

Your fingers glide down his chest, taking your time, lingering over every ridge of muscle, every sensitive spot you’ve come to know so well. His body arches beneath you, seeking more, but you keep your touch light, tantalizing, never giving him what he truly craves. The blindfold heightens his sensitivity, every brush of your fingers sending jolts of pleasure through him.

You shift slightly, letting your nails drag down his torso, and his breath comes out in a sharp gasp. The control you have over him, the way he reacts to every touch, is intoxicating. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his need growing with every passing second, but you aren’t ready to let him have what he wants just yet.

You lean down, your lips ghosting over his neck before you kiss the sensitive skin beneath his ear. He tilts his head to the side, exposing more of himself to you, and you take full advantage, letting your teeth graze the skin there, a mixture of pleasure and pain that makes him moan softly.

“Do you like that, baby?” you ask, your voice low, sultry.

“Yes…” he breathes, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hips shift beneath you, the restrained movement betraying his desperation.

“Good. Because I plan on doing much more,” you purr, your hand sliding further down his body, teasing the edge of his waistband. You can feel his body tense beneath your fingers, anticipation crackling in the air between you.

You lean down, your mouth near his ear once more, your voice a seductive whisper. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes," he replies without hesitation, his voice shaky but sincere.

You smile wickedly, the power of his trust feeding into the delicious tension building between you. The air in the room feels charged, thick with anticipation as you draw back just slightly, allowing the absence of your touch to drive him wild for a moment longer.

“Good.” Your voice is low, husky, filled with the promise of what’s to come. Scott’s chest rises and falls more quickly now, the shallow rhythm of his breathing betraying how close he is to unraveling.

You let your fingers glide down the center of his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. The curve of your palm trails lower, tracing the line of his hip bone before dipping beneath the waistband of his pants. The rough sound of the fabric brushing against his skin as you tug them down makes his entire body tense. He’s completely exposed to you now, fully vulnerable, restrained, blindfolded — yet utterly consumed by the anticipation of your next move.

You bite your lip, letting your gaze roam over his body, admiring the way his muscles twitch with each slow stroke of your fingers along his thighs. The cool air in the room contrasts with the heat rolling off him in waves. His arousal is painfully obvious, his need evident in every strained gasp, every subtle arch of his hips.

“Tell me how it feels,” you murmur, your voice dark, as you graze your fingers lightly over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, so close to where he wants you most, but not quite giving in.

“Feels… god, feels so good,” he breathes out, voice hoarse with need. You can hear the strain, the desire cracking through his usual composure. His head tilts back, lips parting as he tries to control his breath, but it’s futile. He’s fully at your mercy.

You lean down, your lips brushing against the tender skin just above his waistband, teasing him, tasting the salt of his skin as you kiss a slow path up his abdomen. Every press of your lips, every flick of your tongue makes his body twitch beneath you, his hands pulling uselessly against the restraints as he tries to reach for you. But he can’t, and you know he loves that.

His breathing is ragged, his body trembling beneath you as you move higher, hovering over him with a dangerous smile. “You’re shaking, Scott,” you whisper against his chest, nipping gently at his skin. “Are you that desperate for me?”

“Yes,” he groans, the single word barely making it past his lips as his head falls back against the pillow. “I need you… Please.”

The sound of his begging sends a wave of heat straight through you, making you ache with the desire to finally give him what he’s craving. But not yet. Not until you’ve wrung every last ounce of control from him.

You sit up, just enough to position yourself over him, pressing your body against his. He inhales sharply, his muscles tensing again, a low groan escaping his throat as your heat aligns with his. Even through the thin fabric separating you from him, the contact is electric. His hips buck upward instinctively, seeking more, but you keep your hips firmly pressed down, denying him the satisfaction.

“Not so fast,” you purr, rolling your hips slightly, grinding against him in a slow, teasing rhythm. His breath comes in harsh gasps, his body trembling with the effort to hold back, to not push for more.

The blindfold has left him fully immersed in sensation, every touch of yours amplified, every moment of delay driving him further to the edge. He’s at your mercy, trapped between the pleasure you’re giving him and the agony of having to wait.

“Please…” The word comes out more desperate this time, his voice broken with need. His body arches beneath you, hips straining upward, seeking friction, release — anything.

You smile, finally satisfied with how far you’ve pushed him, and lean down again, pressing your lips to his in a fierce, hungry kiss. His mouth opens eagerly under yours, and for a brief moment, you let him feel the full intensity of your desire. The kiss is rough, heated, filled with all the pent-up tension between you, and his groan of relief sends a rush of heat through you.

With a quick movement, you shift, freeing yourself of the last remaining barriers between you and him. His body goes rigid beneath you as you position yourself over him, the tip of him pressing against your slick heat, and you pause for just a heartbeat, savoring the moment before you sink down onto him.

The feeling is overwhelming, the heat, the stretch, the way his body fills you perfectly. You let out a low moan, your nails digging into his chest as you take him fully inside you. Scott’s reaction is immediate — his body jerks beneath you, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat, his hips bucking upward to meet yours.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, barely able to contain himself as you begin to move. The pace is slow at first, deliberately torturous, your hips rolling against his in a slow, sensuous rhythm that has him shaking beneath you.

You keep your hands planted firmly on his chest, feeling the way his muscles clench and flex under your touch, as you ride him with agonizing slowness. Every roll of your hips, every subtle shift of your body sends sparks of pleasure shooting through both of you, the tension in the air building with every second.

Scott is completely lost to you now, the sounds spilling from his lips raw and desperate. His hands flex above his head, still bound, unable to touch you, and you can see how much it’s driving him wild. He’s always been so in control, so composed — but here, under your command, he’s unraveling.

You pick up the pace, moving faster now, riding him harder as your own need begins to take over. The slick sound of your bodies moving together, the way he fills you so completely, the deep groans and gasps escaping from his lips — it’s almost too much. You can feel the heat building inside you, the coil tightening, ready to snap.

Scott’s breathing is erratic now, his body trembling beneath you as he strains against the restraints, his hips driving upward to meet your every thrust. “I… I’m close,” he gasps, his voice thick with pleasure, barely able to get the words out as he teeters on the edge.

“Not yet,” you whisper, your voice tight with the effort to hold back your own release. “You’re going to wait.”

His groan of frustration sends a fresh wave of heat through you, but you don’t relent. You ride him harder, faster, pushing both of you to the brink, your nails digging into his skin as you lose yourself in the sensation of him inside you. The tension is unbearable now, the pleasure overwhelming, and you know you can’t hold out much longer.

“Now,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper as you finally give him permission. “Come for me, Scott.”

The moment the words leave your lips, his body explodes beneath you. He lets out a raw, guttural moan as his release overtakes him, his hips jerking upward uncontrollably as he pulses inside you.  The feeling of him coming undone beneath you, the raw power of his climax, sends you over the edge with him. You cry out, your body shuddering as your climax crashes over you in waves, as you ride him through the final moments of ecstasy.

For a few moments, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, both of you spent, trembling, and utterly satisfied. You collapse onto his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath you as you come down from the high.

Slowly, you reach up to untie his wrists, gently rubbing the red marks left by the restraints. Scott pulls the blindfold off,  his unshielded eyes remain closed as he cautiously adjusts to the shift in sensation.

“Here,” you whisper, carefully guiding the glasses back into his hands, watching as his fingers curl around the frames, holding them with the ease of routine.

Scott slips them on, and when his eyes finally open, the familiar barrier is back between him and the world — but not between him and you. His gaze, even shielded behind the lenses, is filled with gratitude and an intimacy that goes far deeper than words. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you again, holding you tightly as your bodies melt together in the warm, quiet aftermath.

“You know how to take care of me,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion.

“Always,” you reply, resting your head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. In this moment, the trust between you feels unbreakable, the bond deeper than any physical connection could ever be.

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