#forbidden secret desire

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire 5

Summary: You find yourself waking up in his cabin, and honestly it’s peaceful, until a gut wrenching feeling starts making its way into your stomach that something is wrong.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Forced touch, oblivious reader, language, secluded cabin. Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Tags: @remmyj10 @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @dickmaster3000 @cellyx33

Word Count: 3582 (All other chapters here) Chapter 6

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Enjoy your Forbidden Secret Desire...

You wake up. Not where you’d fallen asleep mind you. But in a completely different bed, in a completely different room. To be fair though, you don’t remember falling asleep in a bed in the first place.

You hear the sound of plates and other dishes clinking from outside of the room, and you uncover your face from the blanket you’ve been tucked in, which was covering up to your nose. As soon as you breathe in the air, the scent of pine wood, cigar, and cologne immediately fills your nostrils. That’s when you remember where you were. You agreed to let Logan take you to his cabin in the middle of the woods. The drive was lengthy though. You had been awake for at least two hours in the truck before you had finally fallen asleep. You don’t remember getting up and walking to bed though. Or changing out of your day clothes. But you were sure you were just tired, considering the long ride.

Moving to lie on your back, you stare up at the ceiling. Bannisters of hard wood cross over the vaulted ceiling, you follow them with your eyes to the left until you’re staring at a window that was framed in more hardwood, the curtains closed, preventing you from looking outside.

After a few more moments, and the occasional sound of of movement close to the room, you finally decide to sit up, stretching your arms above your head, as you’re sat up you see a door, it was cracked open with the light on, you could tell it was a small bathroom, then you toss some blankets off of your body before beginning to step out of the bed. The bed was high up. If you were standing next to it, the top of the mattress would be about even with your hips. You step down with one foot first, the tips of your toes touching the ground before you slide off until both feet are flat on the hardwood floor. A bedside lamp is on, making it easy to see as it emits a soft yellow light.

You walk up to a tall mirror that seemed to be part of a cabinet, it was locked and closed. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a dishevelled mess and your eyes were almost half closed, trying desperately to make you fall back asleep, and a red line streaks the side of your right cheek, you were probably lying on some fabric for too long. Your eyes trail down to your clothes, you were wearing a grey, white, and black flannel. It was thick, and you knew it wasn’t yours. One, because you didn’t own any flannels. And two, because, well, you just knew it wasn’t yours. It was also way too big on you. You assume it’s Logan’s. It goes about halfway down your thighs, and the first top two buttons were undone, showing your black lace bra. You lift the shirt slightly, showing your matching panties. Looking around the room for a moment, none of your clothes are in sight. So you decide you should probably go and talk to Logan now.

You open the door, the hinges surprise you when they don’t creak, you naturally assume the cabin was hold since it was Logan’s. He probably just takes good care of it. You tell yourself as you close the door silently behind you. Opposite of the bedroom door was another wooden door painted a dark brown with a brushed golden doorknob. It was open just a little, and you could see a bathroom. Turning your head to the right, was a few feet left of a hallway before there was a double door leading outside and a small area filled in by another larger cabinet that almost reached the ceiling. You could see through the little windows that there were jackets hung up in it. You assumed the door would lead to the backyard, but you still couldn’t see outside. The small window in the door was foggy, and it had a floral design to hide the inside from the outside, and the outside from the inside. Then you turn your head to the left, a hallway about as long or longer than the one on the right, but it led to two different open rooms, and it was aligned with the front door, its window also was covered. You take a few steps forward, until you’re at the end of the hall. You look to your right, a three seater brown cotton couch was facing a fireplace with a large TV mounted over it, and a recliner that matched the couch was angled just slightly as it sat near the couch in order to also face the TV. In between the couch and TV was a large oval rug, red and white, but it looked soft with a wooden coffee table sitting above it, last there was a window, on the right of the front door. You take a few steps forward, and on your left is Logan. His back turned towards you as he does whatever he’s doing at the counter. It was a nice kitchen. The cupboards were all wooded, and the counter was marble. In the centre was an island, two stools standing on the outside, and the wall opposite the island was another large window, on the left of the front door of course, with another door leading into a smaller room that you couldn’t see inside of from your angle.

“Look who’s awake.” You draw your attention away from your thoughts and look back over to Logan. “How long you been up?” He turns back around to look back at whatever he was doing.

“No long… What time is it?” You ask him, making your way to one of the windows and pushing the curtain aside.

“It’s like ten at night.” He tells you as you continue to stare out the window. Snow fell to the ground outside and you stare at it as it piles at least four inches above the dirt. Why is it snowing? You ask yourself, looking up at the sky to see a full moon with dancing little stars surrounding it.

“Here.” He brings you out of your thoughts again and you turn your head to see him holding out a sandwich on a plate. Only then do you realise you’re famished.

“Thank you, Logan.” You take the plate, picking up one of the triangle shaped slices of bread before biting the corner and backing away from the window finally.

“We’re out in the mountains. We just barely avoided the heavier snow.” He explains, knowing you were confused about the snow.

“It’s really quiet out here.” You mumble. And he doesn’t say anything for a moment. Not a single sound occurs in the house as neither of you speak.

“Just how I like it.” You take another small bite of your sandwich, covering your mouth before speaking.

“Where are the clothes I was wearing earlier?”

“You fell asleep in the truck so I carried you inside. It was snowing though, kind of heavy and it stuck to your clothes, got them wet.” He tells you, then nods towards the last closed door. “They’re drying in there.”

“How long have I been asleep for?”

“Like an hour before we got her, then we’ve been here for about five hours so… you’ve been out for six hours. Figured you wake up soon so…” He looks towards your sandwich, implying he made it knowing you’d wake up soon. “Do you need anything else?”

“Do you have anything to drink?” You cover your mouth as you speak again with food in your mouth.

“Yea…” He walks towards the fridge and opens it, you follow behind him and look in the fridge with him. “Apple juice, milk, lemonade, then of course water.” He looks at you, his eyes soft as he tilts his head down to look into your eyes. “I also have chocolate syrup if you’d like chocolate milk.” He adds on.

“Mhm…” You hum and nod your head. Then look around a little. “Where are the cups though?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He tells you, taking out the milk and placing it on the counter before going back and grabbing chocolate syrup too. “How chocolatey do you want it?” He asks, reaching over you and squishing you into the counter slightly as he pulls out a glass.

“Like uh… half?” He nods, then mixes some of the syrup into the glass after pouring in the milk.

“There you go, pup.” He slides the glass carefully closer to you and puts the milk and syrup back into the fridge. You whisper a silent thank you before taking the glass and sipping from it. Why does he seem so… off?

“How are you? Did you get any sleep?” You ask him.

“No, I was waiting for you to wake up.” He tells you, and you know he stayed up late just to feed you. How sweet.

“Aren’t you tired?” He just nods. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright darlin’ really,” he moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around the back of your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t wake up hungry.” He squeezes you slightly in the side hug before rubbing his hand up and down your arm as you take another bite of your food.

“I appreciate it… Thank you, Logan.” You look up at him, fuck he’s close, and he smiles down at you.

“Of course.” He tells you, then as you turn your head, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“So uh… is there a separate room?” You ask him after his arm lets go of you so he could walk to the other side of the island.

“No. Just one room, then the living room. Why?”

“Well I was wondering who was sleeping where but-“

“Figured it would be alright if we both sleep in the bed.” He tells you. “If you’re okay with it, of course.”

You think about it. Like you really think about it as you finish your last bite of food and sip more of your chocolate milk. “I mean…”

“The bed is big.” He tries to pry on. “I’d sleep on the couch but I’ll fall off, and I don’t wanna see you sleeping on the couch.” He explains, and the reasons were pretty valid.

You nod. “Okay yea… I don’t mind sleeping with you- er- in the bed with you. If that’s what you prefer.”

“Not about what I prefer.” He tells you.

You shrug. “I’ll take the bed with you, it’ll be more comfortable probably anyways.” You finish your chocolate milk, and he watches as you set the glass into the sink after washing it out.

“Just leave it there, I’ll wash it in the morning.” He tells you as soon as you hand touches the faucet handle.

“I can-“

“I’ll wash it in the morning, pup.” He repeated, his voice sounded almost angry, but you knew he was just tired. So you set the glass in the sink, not washing it as he asked, then back away. “Alright. Need anything else?”

“No…” you say softly.

“Okay. Then let’s get some sleep.” He backs away from the island a few steps, and you walk in front of him, leading the way to the bedroom as he turns out every light behind you. Now you could see through the bathroom door that there was a little light plugged into the wall, probably so anyone could find it in the dark.

You turn right and open the door to the bedroom. He follows behind you, closing the door and locking it. Probably a habit he’s picked up from the mansion's doors. You figure. Then make your way back to the tall bed, crawling up onto it.

As soon as you’re sitting with the blanket over your lap, you look back over at him as he goes into the small bathroom you noticed earlier, closing the door behind him, so you lie down with the blankets just under your breasts.

“Are you hot?” He asks you, just exiting the bathroom. Noticing you weren’t as shrouded in the blankets as before you had woken up not long ago.

“No… a little cold actually…” You tell him as he walks to the other side of the bed, your voice softening as you look up at him, his shirt off and he is now only wearing pyjama pants.

“Well cover up a little more than, angel.” His voice is soft also as he gets onto the bed, exerting less effort than you needed to as he sits next to you, gently pulling the blankets up until they were over your shoulders as you were lying on your side now to face him. “Better?”

You nod, and you watch as he gets under the blankets as well. There’s a decent distance between the both of you on the large bed, you wish you could get closer to him. Just to absorb his warmth.

“Goodnight, pup.” He says, his voice still soft as he gets comfortable under the sheets.

“Goodnight, Logan…” Your tone matches his, and he pulls the cord of a lamp on his bedside that was sitting on his nightstand. Casting the room in darkness.

For a few moments, everything was quiet except for the soft rustle of blankets as Logan moved around until he was comfortable. Then there was nothing as your eyes finally drifted back to sleep…

When you wake up, the bed feels smaller than it did before. Your eyes open and there’s little slivers of light touching the walls as the sun shone through the curtains. You try to move a little, feeling warmer than you expected to feel waking up, but something heavy keeps you in place. You look down, the blankets that were up to your chin were now just below your waist, and laying on your waist was an arm. Logan's arm was draped across your waist, with his hand laying on your chest, just between your breasts. He was really close to you, his entire front pressed to your back as he continued to sleep. He must’ve moved closer to you in his sleep.

Suddenly, you hear a quiet groan come from behind you, followed by him managing to move closer, as if he wasn’t already pressed against you. Then you hear his gruffy morning voice, and to be honest, it was music to your ears. “Good morning…” His hand leaves your chest as he makes a little space between your bodies, immediately making you feel cold as his hand moves to the bare skin on your waist instead, your shirt ridden up from your sleep.

“Good morning…” Your voice comes out softer than you had expected, a quiet groan emitting from Logan's throat behind you, and you move slightly, attempting to turn over and face him, but he holds you a little tighter. Hesitantly, your hand moves down to his, still resting on your waist. You gently rest your palm on the back of his hand, twirling one of the golden rings that you’ve seen on his middle finger. His hand gently grabs your waist tighter and his hand slips a little further down, now resting on your stomach with your hand still resting on his as he pulls you closer to him, and you feel it as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

The bed gets lighter and feels less heavy as his weight finally shifts, moving away from you as he leaves the bed, and you sit up slowly, arching your back to stretch as he moves to a dresser.

“Come here, pup.” He tells you, taking out a large grey shirt. Again, you begin to move off the bed, a struggle as your toes hit the ground first before you can slide off. No one needs a bed this damned tall. You tell yourself as you walk up to him. Still dressed in his flannel, your black matching set underneath. “Here.” He says, swinging the grey shirt over his shoulder before he faces you, and his hands move to the buttons on the flannel you were wearing, but you quickly move to try and undo it yourself. “I’ve got it.” He tells you, gently, but firmly, grabbing your wrists and moving your fingers away from the buttons. “Let me…” His hands move back to the shirt, undoing the buttons then taking a step forward as he takes the flannel off of you, then throws it into a little bin not far away. He then takes the grey shirt off of his shoulder, looking you down for a moment before he puts the shirt over your head, fixing it around your arms. “There’s a brush in the bathroom across from this room, can you get it for me please.” He asks, turning back around to grab his own clothes.

Your feet softly touch the ground, and you make no sound as you move through the quiet cabin. In the restroom, there’s a hairbrush hanging from a little hook on the wall, which you grab before heading right back into the bedroom to see Logan dressed in a different flannel, no longer shirtless, and he was also now wearing a pair of jeans.

“Here.” You hand him the brush, which he takes from you.

“Go ahead and sit over there.” He nods towards a little bench with a leather cushion that was in front of the bed. You hadn’t noticed it before since it was hidden by the tower of a bed. You obey though, making your way to sit on the bench, crossing your legs as you stare at the wall.

Then you feel his hands gently on you, turning you and moving you until you were on the edge of the bench, and then you feel it as he begins brushing your hair. Why the fuck was he taking care of you like this? You ask yourself as he carefully brushes through your hair, making caution to not accidentally pull it.

As soon as he’s done, his voice comes from behind you again. “Are you hungry?” You nod slightly, standing up as he begins to leave the room, and you follow closely behind him. “Go ahead and get comfortable on the couch.” He tells you, and it feels like a demand.

“Logan I can-” You stop talking as he turns towards you, a stern look on his face as his eyes stare into yours, silencing you. You see his chest move as he takes a deep breath. Something felt off. With as much as you appreciated his care, it didn’t feel normal for you. You’re so used to just taking care of yourself, no matter the situation.

“Go sit down.” This time there was no comfort in his voice. It was a demand that you follow. Crossing your arms as you turn around and head towards the couch, sitting on your knee before crossing your legs. You hear the sink turn on, and you assume he’s cleaning your glass from last night. “What’re you hungry for?” He asks, and you think of the simplest thing that comes to your mind first. Toast.

“Toast would-”

“We have eggs, bacon, anything you like.” He interrupts you. You stare at him in the reflection of the TV. He's standing with his hand on the fridge handle, but his body is turned towards you. He wanted you to choose something he could actually prepare.

“I uh… surprise me I guess…” You tell him awkwardly, and his reflection moves again, taking contents out of the fridge that you weren’t able to see on the TV.

A few minutes pass. No conversation, but the cabin smelt amazing. You never took Logan as the type to be able to cook, but here you were, being served by him. Even if you really preferred making your own food. You were an adult after all. You hear clicks as he turns the dials off on the stove, and you hear a cupboard close, followed by the sound of two plates being set on the counter. Bringing you back to reality.

His reflection gets close on the TV, until he’s standing right next to you. He hands you a plate, a serving of steak, egg, and potato on the plate. Something he definitely didn’t have to make for you, but it looked amazing with cheese sprinkled on top. You thank him as you take the plate, and he sits right next to you on the couch with his own food.

One of his arms wrap around your shoulders in another side hug, his lips pressing to the top of your head, and you smile slightly, but the smile immediately falters as you then feel his lips press to your cheek, just at the corner of your lips, making you flinch, and you feel yourself practically shrink into the couch. His beard rubs against your cheek as his lips do touch you. It all felt so wrong, as you gently took his arm off of you again, your appetite suddenly smaller. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” He tells you, his voice making your stomach feel funny. “I’ll take care of you. All you have to do is sit there and look beautiful…”

[cottoncandyhole]

I wanted to tell you all of my secrets.. but you became one of them instead.

[jl-jk]

Chapter 1

The ride to the club always felt endless, each minute dragging like an eternity. My eyes darted to the clock: 10:57. Three minutes to make it to the club. I rushed, barely making it just in time, feeling an odd relief despite my nonexistent heart. Not once in a year had I been late or missed a session.

Night Owl, a club unlike any other, catered exclusively to women with a certain...aliveness. It was a place where the darkest fantasies came to life and where forbidden desires were fulfilled.

That's where I met him. He was breathtaking, standing 5'10 with honey-kisses skin and jet black hair. His eyes, dark as boba pearls, were anything but innocent. I couldn't know his name, so I called him Mr. Red, but did I knew every inch of his beautifully sculpted body. He was the epitome of temptation, a delicious sight to behold.

My private room, nicknamed the Fortess, was finally ready. Twice a week, like clockwork, our sessions ran from 11:00 to 1:00am. We had to adhere strictly to this window or risk a month-long ban from one to one sessions with our suitors. Some of the ladies got a bit too excited when left alone for too long, so caution was necessary.

Today, I planned just to watch. Little did I know, Mr. Red had other ideas in store.

Our sessions usually revolved around him stroking his lust, imagining what I looked like from the other side of the glass. We were separated by a two-way mirror, allowing me an unobstructed view of his glorious form, while he had no clue about mine.

This thrilled me. He knew what I was and wasn't afraid, a rare trait in a human that could easily get them killed in my world. The time limits existed partly for this reason. Our excitement made us stronger, and there was always a risk of harming our nameless suitors.

Entering the black velvet-lined room, my non-existent heart raced in anticipation of seeing him. Today, I was ravenous, my desire consuming me. I needed him to feed this hunger, but I was unsure how I wanted to achieve that tonight.

A flash of light drew my attention to the door in his room. There he was. My body sensed his presence before my eyes confirmed it, and my oasis throbbed in response.

He walked slowly to his throne, wearing nothing but light grey sweatpants. The tattoos on his right arm glistened like paintings and my excitement grew at the thought of what his hands were about to do.

Sitting on the golden throne draped in red velvet throws, he was a vision. I pressed the button on the left armrest of my chair, signaling I was ready to start.

His eyes flicked up to the red light, a smile crossing those beautiful lips. He was ready to play.

The crease of his smirk revealed a dimple, making my pussy throb again. My body's response still baffled me. Since becoming a vampire, I hadn't fully understood the mechanics of my new biology. I could eat human food or drink blood, either way, sustaining me, and keeping my organs functioning like normal. My heart no longer beat, yet I still felt the blood coursing through my body.

Regaining focus, I returned my attention to tonight's entertainment.

He must have sensed my distraction because when I looked back at the glass, he was standing right in front of me. Leaning forward on his left arm, his other hand trailed gently down the curves of his chiseled chest.

He loved this. He loved knowing he controlled my body's reactions. On days like today, when I let him take charge, he knew exactly how to make me wet. With my new found strength and body, I had developed a kink for control, something I never had as a human. But now, a single whisper of a command from him, and I was pool of wetness.

But let's be real—I fucking loved it. Every day, I fantasized about him commanding me to cum. Imagining him finger fucking me as his lust tapped the back of my throat, sent a shiver up my spine.

Pressing the second button on my armrest opened the two-way speaker between us. He wouldn't start until I said it, one of the few things he was strict about. So, I obeyed his silent command.

"Please," I whimpered.

"Good girl," he replied, that fucking smirk appearing again.

He stretched, reaching down as if the distance was endless, pulled out his lust and began stroking it.

He knew I loved watching him, but hearing him was an even greater treat. The sound of his husky breath building as he thought about fucking me set my mind ablaze.

"Keep the speaker on," he commanded.

I complied, pressing the button twice to keep the line open. He couldn't see me, but his gaze through the glass felt as though he could see me clearly.

"How was your day?" He asked, a ritual he never skipped, as if he truly cared about how my day had gone.

"Better now," I replied sensually.

He smiled, and for some reason, it made me smile too.

"How would you like today to go?"

I knew what he meant. Though I couldn't touch him, he let me control his climax, just as he controlled mine. How fast he stroked, how tight his grip was, whether he perched on the edge of his climax or came on command—it was my game to play.

"Hmm, today I think I'd like a slow burn."

"Ahh, so you missed me, is that it?" His cheekiness always made me smile. He was so confident and domineering behind that glass, and I could tell it's who he truly was beyond our twice a weeks sessions.

"I just love what I see when we're together. Why rush it?" I said, savoring every moment.

"It's not fair, though. You can see me, but I can't see you," he replied, his stroke picking up speed as he seemingly locked eyes with me through the glass.

"That's how this works, always has," I started, "no names, no contact, no love. A simple contract," I said with a slight pout.

"Is that what you really want, though?" he asked, smiling knowingly. "Seeing you doesn't break the contract."

I knew what he was hinting at. The club had recently introduced a feature that allowed for the two-way glass to be turned off for a more intimate session. Immortality or not, I wasn't ready for him to see my face.

"For now, I think that's best," I whispered back.

He smirked again, continuing to stroke his lust. "You know, you've been my attendant for almost a year now. I have to wonder, why do you keep coming back?"

I often asked myself the same question. he wasn't the only beautiful man here, but something about him drew me in from the moment I saw him. Like a drug, I could never get enough.

"I don't know, maybe it's because I'm comfortable with you."

"Comfortable is the last thing I want you to be with me," he growled.

He pressed his lust lightly against the glass, leaving a moist imprint. My body ignited as I watched him grip his length tighter and tighter. He looked at me as if he could see me and it drove me wild.

"If I could have you, would you give yourself to me?" He asked.

My mind went blank, but my non-existent heart raced with anticipation.

"Why ask that? You know it's not possible," I said.

"But we can pretend, right?" He smirked.

"How so?" I challenged.

"What are you wearing?"

"A black dress and heels"

"Fuck I wish I could see you! Do you have on panties? A thong? Or well, nothing at all?" he smiled.

'I don't know why this is making me nervous,' I thought, my words getting shakier with each passing moment.

"N-Nothing at all", I reply.

"Good," he smiled pleased. "Lift your dress and position yourself so your pussy is in my direction", he commanded.

"Why?"

"Do as I ask," he growled.

I couldn't resist him. Even with an entire room between us, it felt like he was right in front of me.

"Take your finger and circle your clit," he whispered.

Following his instructions, I gently circled my clit, and waves of sensations coursed through my body. I tried to stay silent, but a moan escaped.

"Fuck, that's what you sound like tonight? This is going to be difficult, I see." The lust in his voice sent my mind into euphoria.

He started moving faster after hearing me moan, which made me moan even louder. Knowing that my reaction brought him pleasure, in such a sexy way, turned me on.

"Take another finger and enter your pussy, stroke it gently," he started. "And while you glide in and out look me in my eyes." His directions while direct were so fucking erotic.

"You can't see me", I whimpered.

"I don't need to. Between your moaning and your wetness, I have all I need to visualize how sexy you are right now," he said breathless as his climax started to build.

"I'm imagining your legs spread as you're on display for me," he began. "And a pool of your wetness is sitting right below your ass, just waiting for me to lick it up. I want to fuck you so bad, just the thought makes me want to cum".

Again, as I follow instructions, I can't hold back moaning.

"Nuna, you really aren't making this easy for me," he whined. "I'm sure you can see I'm about to explode over here," he peeks down and smiles.

His lust fills his hand as he's stroking imagining he's inside of me, when my next command comes.

"Next, I want you to stand in front of me and let your dress fall to the floor"

"Why?" I ask curious.

"Stop asking questions and just do what I ask", his voice commanded; more stern than usual. It was fucking intoxicating. He's usually bossy, but tonight he was in rare form.

As I stood up, his eyes seemed to follow my every movement. Him locking onto me with such intensity made my non-existent pulse race.

Removing the spaghetti straps one by one, my dress falls to the floor and he says, "Ok, now sit back on the chair how you were before. This time, rest your left leg on the arm of the chair"

"Ok", I reply getting into position.

"Lightly pinch your nipples," he instructed. "I know they're hard, just aching for my tongue to be wrapped around them." "Fuck!" he exclaimed, "I wish I could bite them right now."

The look on his face is one that mirrors mine when I've had satisfying, well, meal.

"Ahhhh" I sigh out. The light pressure makes my clit throb. I'm so ready to cum and it's taking all my strength to hold back.

"Aht, don't do that. It's not time to cum yet." I hate when he gets like this. He's turned my game into his and I fall for it every time.

I want to, I need to cum. He has to know this is driving me fucking insane. It feels like he's touching me, and I crave nothing more than for that to be a reality.

"Ok, now close your eyes, while pinching your nipples," he began, "then stroke your pussy how I told you to before."

Breathless and disoriented I comply.

"Ahhh, ahhh," my moans whimper, as the pressure is building up. I can't hold back anymore. I need him to command me to release what's been growing inside of me.

"Are you close?" He playfully asks.

"Mmm, hmm" I reply through static breaths.

"Look at me Nuna", he says barely above a whisper.

I open my eyes and look straight at him.

"Cum. Right now", he says seemingly looking straight into my eyes.

"Ahhhh," I exhale as my body convulses, painting my hand in my wetness, as I watch his climax paint the mirror in front of me.

Thank you for reading!

Remaining chapters on Wattpad

[smolwormadventures]

An excerpt from another adventure from the series of Foible Flatworm and Crispin Spillikins. As posted by Atticus.

〰️〰️〰️〰️

It had been getting warmer as the seasons began to change into spring. This allowed Foible to extract himself from his secret base and find time to reflect. He had traveled over land and water to get to his destination, his hearing zoned in on the grass that slipped underneath him, his mind blank for once.

He was not thinking of his next new invention to take over the world or one to be a distraction, no, he was thinking of the stone that he coiled up on. He looked down, his eye scanning over the word, and he took a deep breath.

“It’s been a while, father,” he whispered, allowing his words to be carried away with the residual winter wind.

… Foible paid his respects and slithered away after what felt like hours to him but only minutes to watchful eyes. Foible slowly slid up to a nearby monument and leaned against the pillar as he collected himself. He briefly monologued to himself, like most do when the setting and situation calls for it, and he inhaled the new spring air deeply.

It was because of his father he was doing what he was doing. He wanted to avenge him. Foible closed his eye and exhaled the breath he was holding only to snap his eye open at the sound of a familiar voice.

“My deepest condolences about your father, Foible” the voice said, soft and caring, right on the other side of the pillar at which Foible rested.

Foible gritted his teeth as he clenched his jaw. He didn’t immediately turn and throw a punch but composed himself the best he could.

“As you should, Spillikins, it was your people who killed him,” Foible admitted, and he felt like he left one of his greatest walls come crumbling down. It felt vulnerable, and he hated that. He hated Spillikins.

Crispin Spillikins only nodded and took a deep breath before he spoke,

“Then I cannot apologize enough and I cannot ease your pain,” he replied, his heart aching in ways he couldn’t convey properly into words.

There was nothing but the sound of nature between them for a moment, a silence that Crispin knew Foible needed, before Crispin inhaled loudly. He slid his tail around and grazed the tip of his to the tip of Foible’s and Crispin felt him tense immediately.

Neither one pulled away from the other, but there was an understanding silence between them before Foible slithered away. Crispin did not follow him, did not report to his superiors, but he stayed put until he knew Foible was long gone before slithering away himself.

〰️〰️〰️〰️

[panzerdrako]

Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Secret House of the Night of Dread Desire

Neil Gaiman

Shane Oakley

[rosesradio]

yk it's not lost on me that the shadowy tendrils in CE kinda give off hentai vibes

[848ellie]

Forbidden fruit 🍏

[darkromanceart]

"In the darkness of the night, they whispered secrets to each other, and their love grew stronger with each passing moment."

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire 3

Summary: You’re finally starting to fit in when you freak out in front of everyone. But twenty side eyes later and a lot of forgiveness from your friend Kurt, you discover a scary secret.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Panic attack, manipulation, hidden cameras, finally not as much awkwardness, social dissociation, being in the social eye. Logan is an official warning starting this chapter as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Word Count: 4542 (All other Chapters here) Chapter 4

Tags: @remmyj10 @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @dickmaster3000

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again. 

Enjoy your Forbidden Secret Desire...

“Alright, everyone, find a partner.” You shouldn’t be surprised that Logan was your teacher for your third period class. You remembered Hank and Logan talking about it the other day in the lab, but it still shocked you for some reason, maybe it was something else that surprised you, like the fact that he doesn’t just let everyone do whatever so he could get it over with. You knew he would be the substitute for both your third and fifth period classes for the rest of this week, and only because Xavier was out on some mission. The thing that bothered you the most now, was that you couldn’t partner up with anyone, and you knew no one would want to partner up with you. So you just watched as everyone else excitedly ran towards their best friends.

“Wanna be my partner?” A hand lands on your shoulder, making you flinch a little. It was Kurt of course. “We have a new student today and my normal partner is their guide.” He explains.

“Uh, yea sure. Cool.” Cool? 

“Cool,” he smiles, his little fangs showing under his lips.

“Everyone have a partner?” Everyone nods, including you. “Good, find a place on the floor and sit in front of your partner.” You follow Kurt to an open spot, there were only about ten other kids in the class so it wasn’t too hard. “Once you’re sitting with your partner, find three things you both have in common. You have five minutes to talk amongst yourselves, time starts now.” You realise he’s reading every instruction from a pamphlet, that helped it make more sense. “Also apparently the three things you have in common cannot be common questions such as colours, animals, etcetera.” He finishes, placing the pamphlet down on the teachers desk. “Now your time starts now.” He picks up his phone, and starts the timer.

“So uh. What are some uncommon questions then?” You shrug, trying to think of a question with him. Why do they have to be uncommon Xavier? What the fuck? You wonder and listen to other students' conversations, but everyone is trying to figure out a question just like you and Kurt.

Your eyes turned back to him, and his index fingers were rubbing his temples, it was actually frustrating him. So now you understand the task. It’s almost impossible to come up with a question that no one commonly asks, so of course, thinking is stressing everyone out. It was anger management after all.

“If you were a unicorn, what colour would you want to be? I’d probably wanna be white.” You tell him, shrugging a little, hoping it would calm his frustration.

“Oh yea. I’d probably be white also, I get tired of being blue.” He chuckles a little.

“Okay if you were a dragon, would you breathe fire or something else?”

“I'd probably want to breathe ice.”

“I think it would be cool to be able to choose.” You tell him, sitting back up and crossing your arms in your lap.

“If you were forced to do one subject for the rest of your life, what would you choose?” He asks you, understanding the project now.

“Definitely science.”

“Same, it’s a more fun subject.”

“Especially compared to anger management.” You joke, making him chuckle quietly. “Okay, one more question.” You prop your elbows on your thighs as you look at him. The rule is no common questions, so Xavier wants us to ask uncommon questions, with common answers.

“If everything in the world could only be flavoured one thing, what flavour would you choose?”

“I would choose vanilla. It’s plain, I can't get tired of it.”

“I would probably choose green apples, but not too sour.”

“How about the scent?”

“Scent I would choose vanilla.” He tells you, one again laughing to himself.

“Same, and there’s our three questions.” You turn your head to look at the projector, there was about a minute left and Logan was going around and asking groups how everything was doing. In another direction, a kid who could harness fire had smoke coming from the back of his head as he thought of another question.

“Alright and how are you two doing?” Logan asks Kurt and then his eyes also move to you.

“Good, we just finished.”

“No common questions?” You both shake your heads. “Good, you’re the only pair to finish so far.” He mumbles, moving onto the next group.

“So what’re you doing after your last class?” Kurts asks you, leaning forward to ask the question, his eyes trained on you.

“I’m supposed to help Hank- Mr. McCoy with another project.”

“You do that everyday.” He leans back on his palms.

“Yea, I never have anything better to do. Unless something comes up then I cancel.”

“So he doesn’t ask you for help? You just kind of pop in?” You nod.

“Unless he asks me to. Then it can be important… it’s usually stupid.” He smiles slightly.

“So my friends and I are having a little sleepover in my room tonight.”

“Oh…” You move your hands together, once again your thumb begins to pick at your skin.

“Yea, it would be cool if you came by. We're gonna have pizza, some drinks, and we're gonna watch a movie.”

“What movie?” You ask, the timer reaching zero as Logan walks back to the desk to turn it off.

“Whatever we pick out of the hat. Last week it was Big Hero 6.” He shrugs.

“Uh, yea. I’ll try, what time?”

“Around 9PM is normally when the others show up.” You nod in understanding, then Logan speaks up.

“Okay so, it says here that you guys are all supposed to stand up and share your groups three questions.” He tells everyone, reading the pamphlet out loud. “But I don’t wanna hear it. So the rest of the ten minutes in class is to yourselves. Enjoy.” He tosses the papers back on the desk and the students immediately begin talking amongst themselves. Talking about anything they could come up with. The news, food, anything, while you and Kurt stood back up, he walked to his friend group expecting you to follow. But you only make your way back to your desk to sit on your phone for the remainder of class. Logans eyes settling on you, and you know you’re not supposed to be on your phone, but he doesn’t bother making a scene, instead, his eyes rest on you, occasionally moving to other students to see what they’re doing or moving to look at his email, but the majority of the ten minutes, all he could look at was you.

And then the bell finally rang, and everyone collected their items in their bags before leaving the classroom for lunch.

Normally for lunch you’d just sit in your room on your bed, finishing any work you had to finish and if you were hungry you’d either tough it out or you would’ve ordered something before your third class ended. Today, Kurt changed your plans.

“Hey, we ordered extra, we were hoping you would also sit with us today?” He asks, holding out a box of food that smelt amazing. So you nod, and follow behind him to the little area his friends were sitting. They all smiled up at you from their spots on the floor, and you joined silently. This dude just bribed you with food.

They all chat amongst themselves, and you simply poke at your food with your plastic fork, occasionally taking a small bite. You’ve never been the type of person who’s able to eat an entire meal in front of people you’ve never spoken to without feeling awkward.

They talked about class, and classwork, and talked a little about hanging out in Kurt's room tonight, but that was about it. Occasionally, there would be an inside joke that you didn’t understand, but you didn’t mind. You kept your eyes on your food, and that was it.

“So what about you?” Jean nudges you, making you look up to see everyone's eyes on you. What was the question? You ask yourself, panic rising in your chest.

“Yea, Y/N. Where would you be if you didn’t have to be here?” Alex, you’re a saviour.

“Uh, well…” You think about it for a moment, not sure where you’d wanna be. Definitely not with your family, you don’t have a home or caring family outside of the mansion. Hell you didn’t even have friends inside the mansion. “I don’t really know.”

“Oh come on. Paris? Mexico?” Scott- or Cyclops asks you.

“Oh, like where do I want to visit?”

“Or live.” Kurt cuts in, smiling at you.

“I would choose Russia.” You shrug, and they all stare at you.

“Imma be honest I was expecting the Maldives or some sort of beach.” Jean laughs a little. “But why Russia? There’s nothing there but snow and vodka.” You nod.

“It’s where I was born…”

“No way…” Alex scoffs. “You don’t look Russian. And you’ve only been here for what? Three years?”

“Almost.” You sigh a little. “About two years and eight months.”

“You literally never talk to anyone.” Jean says out loud, and you look up at her, your eyes daring her to continue. “How do you not have an accent?” Rude. Your eyes squint slightly.

“Okay, guys, next subject.” Kurt says, a little chuckle in the back of his throat. “Actually, what kind of pizzas are you guys wanting for tonight? I’m ordering this time.” He takes out his phone and opens a pizza ordering app.

“Can we get Hawaaian?”

“No, come on, meat lovers!”

“That's gross, why not just normal pepperoni?”

“Well I don’t like sauce.”

“I like alfredo.”

“Guys come on, just choose two. I’m getting two pizzas.”

“So get Hawaiian and meat lovers.”

“What about sauce?”

“Just get a sauce cup, or like five sauce cups? I love sauce.”

“Well I hate it.”

It was too much. Too much back and fourth, and you honestly couldn’t stand it. It was making your head whirr and your brain was pounding as they argue about something as simple as pizza. Then they start arguing about sodas and it’s just all this back and fourth. It was too much.

“Hey wait where are you going?” Alex is the first one to ask about your sudden leave as you get up from the ground and throw away your trash, but you don’t walk back towards them. “She’s not answering me.” He tells the rest of the group, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

You just don’t think you would’ve been able to muster one more word from their lips.

“Hey! Y/N, wait!” You hear Kurt's voice call after you and footsteps behind you, and your face heats up as he gets closer, your arms crossing as you try to console yourself. Then his fucking hand touching your shoulder and he turns you around, one hand on each of your shoulders as he tries to keep you steady, but it only freaks you the fuck out.

“Do NOT touch me!” You shout. The entire eating area goes quiet as each pair of eyes lands on you. Shit.

“Hey, uh… Calm down a little…”

“Do not tell me what to do…” You threaten, but it comes out as more of a warning.

“Well uh… you’re probably freaking everyone out with your hands right now…” What?

In your frustration, you hadn’t even realised you had pushed him off of you, his hands were up in defence, but his shirt had a burn hole in it that wasn’t there before.

Looking down at your hands, there was a red and blue glow emitting from your fingers all the way through your veins. You could only imagine how your eyes looked as you stared down at your hands in embarrassment. Oh, right. You can’t control your powers when you’re stressed, frustrated, sad, mad, happy. You always have to be just… neutral.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Another voice calls and Professor Lehnsherr approaches you with a soft smile. “Come with me so you can cool down.” He tells you, gently placing his hand on your back to lead you out of the eating area before anything escalates.

“Alright.” He sighs, and closes your bedroom door behind you. “Want to tell me what happened back there?” You shake your head. It would’ve sounded pathetic. “That’s okay. Oh honey, don’t sit down.” He holds a hand out to grab your arm but doesn’t, knowing damned well he would burn himself if he touched you. “You’ll burn the sheets.” He reminds you, and you take a few steps away from the bed, but bring your hands up to your face to rub your temples, attempting with all of your effort to control your breathing. Got it, so personal questions and constant back and forth conversations stress you out. You tell yourself. “So… I think you should spend the rest of the day to yourself and-”

“No. No, I have to go to class, remember I said I can’t skip anymore just because I can’t fix myself.” You tell him, reminding him of the first time you freaked out and made the promise.

“Y/N, it’s not about fixing yourself, it’s about controlling your emotions.”

“Well everyone else is able to! Why can’t I?”

“Because everyone in this school associates themselves with others.” You hate to say it, but he was right. Everyone else is used to public stress, because they constantly have it.

“Well I still cannot and will not skip the rest of the day.”

“Fine then. Skip just this fourth period, then go to fifth period, but if you feel like you’re not up for it, then send me a text and I’ll send your substitute a text also so he knows you’re not coming.” You don’t say anything. “Sounds good?”

“Yea. Yes. Uh huh, that- yes… that sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll let Hank know you’re not up for fourth period, then like I said.” He makes his way to the door and holds the handle. “Let me know if you need the entire rest of the day off. Okay?” You nod and give him an ‘mhm,’ before he finally leaves.

Okay what normally calms you down..? You wonder, looking around your room and heading towards your desk to search for the little paper you write those types of things on. There was painting your nails, colouring books, sitting in your dark closet because there’s no sounds in there, and then there was a nice shower or bath. Cold, shower or bath of course. You decide you should just do that.

You roll down the sleeves of the jacket that you’ve had on all day, and then unzip it and throw it off into your dirty laundry basket. The bell for lunch had just rung, so the sound of other students chatting in the halls made way into your room. How you wish the walls and doors were thicker. You wonder as you begin to slide off your leggings, also discarding them in your laundry basket before walking into your bathroom and turning on the faucet, letting the water run cold as you step into the tub with your hair up so you could just relax in the water.

As soon as you’re done, you wrap a towel around your body and step out, perfect timing as the fourth class ends and the bell rings throughout the school walls. Then there’s that annoying whirring sound again as you stand in front of your desk, going through the clothes you’d swore you would go through that morning.

After choosing a plain blue sweater and another pair of black leggings, along with your matching set of panties and a bra, you hear yet another clicking sound, the same you heard from last night. You don’t remember hearing it earlier, so you again assume it’s your neighbours, doing something in their room during the ten minute passing period. Annoying. But you wonder what they could possibly be doing with a camera that loud, and that often. It did only start yesterday, so you hoped it would bore them out eventually.

After what felt like a thousand more clicks, on top of getting fully dressed, you decide you’d be able to make it to class. Your nerves were cool, and you didn’t feel as frustrated as before.

So after about a minute with your palm lying on the door handle, you finally had the courage to open the door with about two minutes left to make it to your fifth period, meditation.

Walking back into the halls felt like you were a fox on a bunny farm. All eyes were on you, and as usual, everyone was whispering about you. The only difference between now and before was they didn’t even try to hide that they were talking about you. If you hadn’t been so used to this scene, you would’ve already freaked the fuck out. So instead, you easily and quickly make it to your first class, having enough of the staring eyes.

“Everyone brought their mat today like they were asked to on Friday?” Logan, also substituting for your fifth period.

Everyone takes their mats out of their bag, including you and everyone rolls it out on the floor in their assigned spot. Surprising considering there was a sub. Then again, it was Wolverine. You sit in your assigned spot as well, but a little further away from everyone. Not everyone had been there for the scene that had unfolded during lunch of course, some people were inside the cafeteria. But you knew that by now the word had spread inside and outside of the mansion.

“Today, we’re going to just relax.” His voice softens a little, becoming nearly soothing. “First I’m going to have you all do some stretches though, so will Jean please come to the front to lead the stretches?” He asks, watching as Jean stands with her mat and faces the entire class on the floor before beginning the stretches, the entire class of about thirty people this time copying her.

You watch as she moves to lie on her stomach, and you follow her movements slowly, placing your palms in front of you and pushing up to stretch, then you follow along all the rest of her simple stretches before she finishes and moves her mat back to her original spot.

“Okay, now here’s the video Xavier said to play.” A video on youtube comes onto the projector screen of an elderly woman sitting on a purple mat with her legs crossed, then she speaks into her camera, asking everyone to copy what she does, then the video goes silent for a moment before the sounds of waterfalls and chirping birds play, attempting to put the viewers mind at ease as everyone's eyes close, to apparently rid their eyes of distractions.

You’re ten minutes in. It’s actually peaceful. You tell yourself with your eyes closed, still sitting with your legs crossed on the floor and your hands on your knees.

“Here.” You hear a voice behind you, prompting you to open your eyes. “No, no. Close your eyes and face forward.” He tells you, and you do. He’s quiet enough so only you could hear him over the waterfall and birds. Then you feel his palm press gently on the middle of your back, causing you to straighten your posture as you involuntarily try to escape his touch. “I heard what happened. I didn’t expect you to show up to fifth.” He admits, letting his palm rest on your lower back, just above your ass, and you take a deep breath. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Fine.” You whisper back, matching his quiet tone so as not to interrupt anyones meditation.

“That’s good. I was worrying about you. I noticed you skipped the fourth period.” You hear him move next to you, and you open your eyes just enough so he doesn’t notice. Instead of kneeling, he was now crouching next to you on your right. His left hand moves to your left shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re alright. Just let me know if you ever need anything.” Emphasising “Anything,”  making it clear that he’d kick ass just for someone looking at you wrong.

You nod slightly, then in your mostly closed eyes, you see him move closer to you. Flinching as his left hand gently holds the side of your head, your lips parting just slightly as you feel his lips touch your temple. A gesture that was supposed to feel sweet, but everything in you was saying it was sinister. Of course, being you, you throw the red flag out of your head and settle on him just being a good friend. I mean he’s your professor. Surely it wouldn’t be more than that.

Right?

The meditation session ends and everyone rolls up their mats and are immediately glued back to their phones or talking to their friends obnoxiously. You also of course are guilty, turning on your phone to no notifications to reply to, as usual- Wait. I have a text? You open your phone to see the text with Kurt's name right next to it.

Kurt Wagner: I’m hoping you’re still coming tonight?

You: I don’t know… I’m sorry about what happened earlier.

Kurt Wagner: Hey it was an accident, and I’ve been meaning to throw that shirt away anyways.

You: Oh, well I hope it was just the shirt. I didn’t burn you right?

Kurt Wagner: Luckily no. You’re such a worry bug.

You: Sorry…

“Wait, where’s the pizza?” Alex is the first to notice as they all walk into the room, everyone eyes first landing on you sitting on Kurt's bed with your legs crossed.

“Well, turns out, Y/N doesn’t like pizza. So I got KFC, McDonalds, and Taco Bell.” Kurt explains, hopping off the bed and retrieving his TV remote. You didn’t even have a TV in your room. At least not anymore. “I know each of you likes at least one of these, so enjoy.” He tells them, turning back to see you snacking on a quesadilla.

“So what movie are we watching then?” Scott asks, grabbing a solid ten chicken pieces from the KFC bucket. “Have you guys pulled from the hat?”

“We have not.” He tells them, then disappears in his closet, reappearing a minute later with some fancy tophat that makes you smile a little. “Who wants to choose from the hat?”

“Make Y/N.”

“Yea, this is her first time, let her.”

“Just don’t let Scott choose, his hand is a magnet for Toy Story, and if I watch it again I’ll know the entire script by broken heart.”

“Okay, okay.” Kurt chuckles, holding the hat out in front of you and giving you an encouraging smile. “Lets let Y/N choose tonight then.” He says, and you angle your arm slightly to reach into the tophat and pull out the first piece of paper your fingers touch. “What did you get?”

They all stare at you as you open the little paper. “Finding Dory.” Your eyebrow quirks a little.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for someone to choose that one.” Jean tells you and you roll the paper back up, handing it to Kurt and he puts it back in the hat then sets the hat on his desk.

“Alright, let's get this party started!”

Was the last thing anyone had said for over an hour, aside from Alex asking Jean if she was crying when baby Dory popped on the TV. So pretty much, the entire hang out was amazing so far. No complaints, no fighting, and best of all, you didn’t receive a single sidewards look.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, drawing your attention from the movie and you turn the brightness on your phone down as if you’re in a movie theatre to check the notification. A text from Professor Lehnsherr.

Metal Head: Have you received my email? I’ve been worried.

You: Sorry I’ve been busy. I’m fine now though. My computer is in my room so I haven’t seen it.

Metal Head: Well when you get the chance, please check the attachments I’ve sent you asap.

You: Alright.

“Everything okay?” Kurt asks, crawling close to you as you begin to stand up from the floor.

“Yea, just Mr. Lehnsherr asked me to check my email asap, which also means now.”

“You’re probably the only person who doesn’t just call him Magneto.” He adds on. “Can I come with you? I’ve never been in your room.”

“It’s nothing special, but sure.” You both stand up, and you head for the door with him behind you. Opening the door and heading straight to your room.

As soon as you get inside and close the door behind Kurt, you open the laptop that’s sitting on your bed and you punch in the password to check your emails.

“It’s actually really… woodsy in here.” Kurt tells you, looking around your room in astonishment. “It’s funny how every student's room has a different vibe, yours smells like pine.” He sits next to you on the bed, the side of his thigh touching yours.

“He just sent me a bunch of attachments, he’s been really into my work on nanotech so whenever he has a question he emails them to me.” You shrug, typing back a response to his question saying ‘does nanotech make a sound?’

As you type out the response and finish sending it. Kurt speaks again. “What is that whirring sound?” He asks, looking down at you and you look up at him after closing your screen. Your faces uncomfortably close.

“I actually have no idea. It’s been happening since last night, I just assumed whoever's my neighbour got something that makes that sound or maybe the AC is acting up.” You shrug and he stands up, his pointy ears twitching slightly as he picks up your build-a-bear.

“Nobody is in that room… The student who was sleeping there left a few months ago.” He tells you and you slowly get off the bed. Approaching him as he holds the bear. “Y/N… Where did you get this?” You gently take the bear in your hands.

“From the mall… There’s a build-a-bear shop there.”

“The day you went with Professor Howlett?”

“Yes.” You squint your eyes in confusion. “Was this always there…?” You mumble.

“I don’t know, was it?” Kurt asks, looking down at the little bear's right eye which seemed to have a spec of a glowing red spot on it.

Some panic gets to you, setting deep in your stomach, making you want to vomit. Who would put a camera in your bear? You ask yourself, and Kurt verbally asks the same question. “I don’t know… I’m going to bring it to Professor Howlett though… He’s the one that helped me stuff it.” Kurt only nods, and you wrap the bear in a shirt before putting it on the shelf in your closet and closing the door, leaving the camera to watch the dark…

[seductive-suffering]

Skin so soft.

Lips longing, wanting.

So desperate for just one taste.

I could stare into a million sunsets testing their beauty.

But what I would give for you to stare into me.

[okiedreamsreviews]

An Off-Limits Merger by Naima Simone ~ Book Review

AN OFF-LIMITS MERGER   This deal requires one thing: not giving in to the irresistible woman across the negotiating table—only from USA TODAY bestselling author Naima Simone.   An Off-Limits Merger is the second book in author Naima Simone’s girl’s trip duet with the soon-to-be-defunct Harlequin Desire. It is a forbidden romance mingled with a secret relationship book, with the tiniest smidge of…

[fuzzynecromancer]

The inkstain joke always gets me.

Hello Mr.Gaiman

I really like good omens but my question is about one of the short stories you wrote called (take a deep breath) Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Secret House of the Night of the Dread Desire from Fragile Things. I want to know why you wrote it.

Thanks

For fun, mostly. I loved the idea of a world in which every Gothic cliche was a thing.

[rqnarok]

dbf!logan ‘just the tip’ howlett.

cws/tags: smut, mdni! dbf!logan. daddy kink. unspecified age gap. unprotected p in v.

The clock almost strikes eight in the morning when the both of you are still lazily lying around on Logan’s bed, smelling like sex and secrets.

Forbidden—but you and him are too drowned in the intoxicated water to reach back into the surface.

Neither of you cares about anything else anymore.

“I can’t,” You whine at him, jutting your lips to a pout, your eyes trailing your eyes into his hard length in front of you, “‘M gonna - have to go home.” 

“C’mon, sweets,” He pleads as he palms your naked breasts in his large palms, rolling the peaking nipples in between his fingers, “How ‘bout just the tip, baby? Jus’ give Daddy a little taste, yeah?” 

You should’ve known that Logan’s older than that myth—that card to corrupt your innocence—but his guilt is buried deep by his desire, his primal need to have you that leaves him with little to no restraints.

Your doe-eyes is the only sign that he needs. 

A mark for your submission sent him spiraling that he had to bite his left cheek to hide his smugness.

Logan’s too old for this shit.

”O-okay,” You reply in a nod, meek and quiet, “But jus’ the tip, promise?” 

Logan doesn’t care if he’s too old. 

“‘Promise, baby.” Logan murmurs as he locks his pinky with yours. 

Logan is the biggest fuckin’ liar. 

“H-ah! More!” He’s got you on all fours, your saliva drips onto his pillows as you lost your energy to keep yourself up while Logan fucks you from the back. 

He grips your sides and uses his strength to manhandle your body back and front to his hard cock.

“So good f’r Daddy, sweetheart.” He groans so deep he barely recognizes his own voice, “So fuckin’ good, baby.” 

You are getting impatient with how he’s torturing you by drawing his length so deliberately slow so he can watch your velvet walls gripping him—before thumping it back in. Logan’s never satisfied until his hips are pressed flush to the fast of your ass.

Then, he repeats the process—snapping his hips forward, leaving you moaning out a high-pitched noise as your hands uselessly clutch at the sheets. 

Logan watches with pride as he knows that he’s the one who’s able to make you feel like this. The only one. 

He bends forward, his broad figure covering your trembling back, “Tha’ my girl. So fuckin’ sweet for your old man.” The head of his cock ruts along that gummy spot inside of you, “Now, wha’ dya say to Daddy?” 

Logan hears a weak muffled answer from when your head is buried.

“Hmm? Wha’s that, baby?” 

Gently, he cups your chin to tip your head just enough so he could hear your reply.

He hears a hiccuped sob—then—“Than’ you, Daddy.”

A throaty chuckle comes out of him as he presses a kiss on your messy hair, “Wha’ a good doll y’are.

Something in the way he manhandles you—the way this feels so taboo—makes your body spasm in his hold—toes curling as you reach your peak.

Logan tightens his grip around you when he feels how your warm walls are squeezing him. 

You both feel like living in an utterly different world in this euphoria that washes over the room. 

Suddenly this is the only home you’ve ever known.

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire 7

Summary: He’s hunting you, even after time passes, and you think you’re free, he never stops hunting you.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Human hunting, past kidnapping, injuries, blood, guns, shooting, non-con, smut, pv, murder, descriptions of death, stalking, descriptions of death, death, non-religious beliefs of after death, Logan Howlett (Individual warnings per chapter)

Tags: @remmyj10 @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @cellyx33 @chxrrybomb22 @bitchidontpost

Word Count: 2329 (Find all chapters here)

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

P.P.S. I wrote this really fast cause I wanted to get FSD over with.

Enjoy your Forbidden Secret Desire.

You don’t know what you expected when he said hunting, but it wasn’t this.

You had woken up sooner than he expected you to, so he was still out running errands. The only reason you knew that was because after yelling and screaming off the top of your lungs for thirty minutes, there was no response.

You sniffle, holding back tears, which you were honestly embarrassed about, even if you were the only one in the cabin.

You stretch, and your head throbbed in pain. You weren’t sure what time it was, or how long Logan had been gone, but you needed to get out of there. He didn’t even tie you down to your surprise. Your limbs were completely free. You suppose he expected to be back before you woke up, but you couldn’t waste anymore time.

You step off the bed, every movement hurts every nerve in your body, but you need to run. Placing your hand on the door handle, you prepare yourself to dart straight into the woods, and not stop until you find another person, someone to hopefully save you. Although, you weren’t too sure if someone would freak out and hand you over the second they see Wolverine on your tail. Nobody wants 3-6 long sharp claws lodged inside their throat.

You know the second you open the door, a notification will be sent to his phone, telling him the ‘backdoor’ has been opened. To which he would come home as soon as he saw it.

So the plan was to just dart outside, hope the snow isn’t too thick anymore, and run. And you aren’t too sure what happened, but instead of darting into the woods, you freeze in the doorframe. There was basically a fucking blizzard outside. The wind was howling, the sound of air and the door alarm were both filling your ears and crowding your brain.

Then your stomach drops.

The sound of his truck rolling into the driveway was enough to get you running, straight into the woods, and only then do you realise your feet were completely naked, no shoes. You skin was only covered by your thin black socks, which were quickly bundling up snow on the fabric with each step you took.

You were sure he was already chasing you, the only difference between the two of you is he was sure to be wearing clothes more suitable for the weather, whereas you were in socks and an oversized shirt, the rest of you uncovered and free to the cold as you ran.

Then you hear a clicking sound. Followed by a loud boom and wood chips from the tree you just ran by blowing into your face.

���Shit!” You scream, protecting your face with your hands. He has the fucking hunting rifle. You realise, but you don’t stop running.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, Y/N.” You remember his words as adrenaline runs through your body. “Then I’ll take you hunting, I’m sure you’ll have fun.” It felt like a kiss from a cactus when he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Behave.”

Hunting.

You replay the word in your head.

He’s hunting you.

But there was no time to think. There was another boom, a sharp pain grazing your skin as you leaped a little to your side, surprising yourself as you kept your balance. Your heart was racing, adrenaline keeping the blistering pain of the cold away from your feet and the painful drip of blood on your leg out of your brain. You didn’t have time to process the pain, not when you had an animal chasing you with a shotgun. And he seemed pretty intent on killing you.

You turn, hoping to lose him through some trees, and it seems to work as you hear the patter of his shoes crunching snow start to slow down. He was searching for you. No.

He was smelling for you.

You bend down, grabbing some snow with your hand quickly to wipe the blood off of your skin while still skipping, never stopping your movements as you quickly but quietly run past him.

If you had any luck finding another person, it would be down the driveway to the house. It would be a long run, but it was your best bet.

The cabin comes back into view, its shape taunting you as you get closer and closer, but you don’t run inside. You run around the side of the house, and you make your way to dark down the driveway until you would reach a main road.

But again.

You stop. Staring at the key in the engine of his truck with the door sitting open. He must’ve left it like that when he saw the notification on his phone, his priority was to find you.

You make a line for the truck, the gas tank was about half full and it was still running. Closing the door and pulling it out of park, you reverse and quickly drive down the little road leading up to the house.

You made it.

It wasn’t nearly as painful or hard as you expected it to be. You actually made it. You got away from him.

Crying happy tears, you make your way down the twisted road, the snow slightly blocking your vision but you don’t care, you weren’t stopping for anything.

Not even the man in his red flannel as he jumps out onto the road, colliding with the front of the truck, making you slam on the breaks, hoping you didn’t run over some random dude.

Then he stands up, and brings his rifle into view, shooting a clear round straight through the windshield, and you duck just in time, already pressing down on the gas again without looking out at the dirt road until you were sure it was safe to. Looking in the rear view mirror, he was standing there, the most defeated look you’ve ever seen written on his face as he breathed heavily, soon turning to walk back up to the house.

There was no way he would just let you go, right?

7 months had passed.

You hadn’t seen Logan since the day at the cabin, and you haven’t even gotten rid of his truck. It was still sitting in the garage of your new home, occasionally being worked on by your fiance.

Xavier has tried getting ahold of you a few times, wondering what’s going on and why you want nothing to do with the X mansion suddenly, but you don’t bother answering any questions, instead, you hang up, blocking the number and forgetting about him completely.

You had better things in life now to deal with.

A minimum wage job as a barista, serving coffee to people rude and nice, a simple, cheap apartment, right next to just about the noisiest neighbour. A cat, his name is Gus, and he absolutely hates anything you do, knocking everything you place on the counter down onto the ground, including coffee, which quickly stains the carpet, making you have to get onto your knees, scrubbing the living hell out of the carpet to avoid fees. Your fiance was unemployed, and you weren’t exactly sure how the fuck you were even affording the apartment anymore. He would just stay home on the couch, watching TV and occasionally being nice enough to buy groceries and make you dinner.

Yea. Sometimes you wish you had stayed with Logan. Of course, you’d probably still be 3 months pregnant. But at least you’d be better off living. And Logan likes to work, so he definitely wouldn’t be sitting on the couch watching football while you’re cooking dinner after a 12-hour shift and a rude 70-year-old customer who covered you in the ‘wrong coffee.’

Now you were in the shower, letting warm water run down your body. It wouldn’t be a long shower of course, considering Jake had already wasted a shit ton of hot water on his own shower, no having any consideration for the bill.

And as you’re in your head, not a single thought running through your brain, you’re suddenly pulled out. A crashing sound of something falling over is what catches your attention, making you turn off the water in the shower.

“Jake?” You call out. No answer. You groan, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around your body before pulling the door open. “Jake? What happened? What did you drop?” Still no answer. You step out further, and you don’t see anything. Everything's in place except for the lamp on the side of the bed where Jake was lying down before you got in the shower. You assume that’s what had fallen.

You walk around the side of the bed, expecting to see Gus lying there with a broken lamp. That cat was an ass, but he was still your baby.

Except that’s not at all what you see when you walk around the bed.

Instead, Jake is lying on the floor. The cord of the lamp tied so tight around his throat that his skin was plumping up and turning red, a few more minutes and his head would surely pop off. But that isn’t what had you scared. The jaw dropping discovery was the three stab marks, each lined up on his abdomen, blood seeping through his clothes and onto the carpet. Even in death, he was still a fucking pain.

“Not the time for jokes.” You tell yourself, then quickly grab whatever clothes your hands find first, you have to get out of there.

He found you.

“You’re in a rush.” You freeze, not even getting the chance to drop your towel as his familiar voice rings in your ears. “It’s not because of me, is it?” In the corner of your eye, he approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “Right?” You shake your head, goosebumps running through your skin as he whispers against your ear. “Good.” He groans, his body pushing yours against the dresser. “It’s been a while. Didn’t you miss me?” He turns you around, making you face him, and you bite your lip, too scared to answer. “How about… A welcome back gift? Just for me?” His hands move up, fingers grabbing the ends of the towel still wrapped around your body in an attempt to pull it down, but you finally move, grabbing his wrists firmly to stop him. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch me.” He growls, shaking your hands off of him before finally ripping the towel off your body. “You’ve gotten chubby…” His hands move to cup your ass, and he lifts you against him, forcing your legs around his waist before he walks you over to the bed, throwing you onto the mattress.

You watch as he wordlessly undoes his jeans, pulling down the zipper and unbuttoning the denim with urgency before quickly moving between your legs, not even bothering to undress completely. He wanted you to feel exposed.

He lifts your hips, and waste no time as he pushes inside of you, a pained moan coming from your throat as he quickly begins thrusting inside of you, groans and curses spilling from his lips as one of his hands holds your throat and the other keeps you still.

“That’s it baby, fuck such a good girl.” He mutters, hips still rocking into yours.

Your hands find his, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as he squeezes your throat, leaving little to no room for breathing.

He thrusts harder and faster as you try urging him to stop, and his other hand moves from your hip to the matress, his knuckles pressed flat on the bed as he rams into you, his speed increasing as he feels your walls clench around his cock. Your eyes rolling in your head as it rolls back, the movements painful from the loss of oxygen as your face turns red and you begin to lose consciousness. But he doesn’t stop, he just moves faster into you, pumping with no remorse. He only wanted to get back at you, he was mad at you for running, but you’d be dead if you hadn’t those 6 months ago.

“L-Lo-gan.” You cough out his name, the supply of air to your lungs now completely gone. All that was left was the blood in your chest and the air in your veins which was also quickly being taken from you.

“Shut the fuck up…” He groans, and his hips begin to stagger, his movements becoming less urgent as he finishes, his seed spilling inside of you as he also forces you to cum, and you hear the sound of metal as his claws suddenly shoot through your mattress, leaving 3 holes beside your head, but that was the least of your worries.

You were more worried if he was going to stop.

When you were dead that is.

Your eyes face into a black state of unconsciousness, your body spasming underneath his as your body tries hard, fighting to breathe, but no supply comes as his fingers wrap tighter around your throat, trapping you in a breathless state.

It wouldn’t matter if you had died, and it didn’t  matter to you what he did to your body when you were dead. All that was running through your mind is what would’ve happened if you didn’t run.

If you had just behaved, would he had still left you alive?

Would he love you, and treat you like you were actually his romantic partner?

Or would none of that matter…?

You wonder.

Choking on nothing as your eyes finally close, and you drift into unconsciousness.

Then there’s nothing.

Not even a black void of incomprehension.

No screaming souls, gate to heaven, or depths of hell.

There’s nothing.

Something not even the most complicated cerebrum of any human biology would ever be able to comprehend.

You were dead.

[seductive-suffering]

I’ll see you every time, for what you truly are.

I’ll watch as you walk by pretending you don’t remember.

But I’ll never forget.

I’m still consumed by the feelings of your hands on mine, your lips so aggressively into me.

The weight of all of you on top of the frame of all of me.

I wonder when you see me what goes through your head.

Are you counting the seconds the minutes?

Do you wish you were with me again. 

[taintedcigs]

can’t stop thinking about firefighter steve x chief’s daughter and it’s your fault </3333

— switched

firefighter!steve harrington x reader.

CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP... I AM SORRY!!!... also ignore my lazy caption i cant find anything better woops... warnings: MINORS DNI!!! just filthy piv smut, maybe a bit of mean!steve, some dirty talk and DUH switch!steve and switch!reader bc i can't help myself. </3 wc: 1.1k+

But seriously imagine Steve with Captain's daughter... you meet him when your dad takes you down to the station, and of course, Steve charming Harrington lays (or at least tries to) the moves on you the SECOND he meets you, and sure enough, captain WARNS him to stay away from you.

Not realizing forbidden fruit is much more juicy when it's prohibited. and it quickly turns into a dirty little secret.

So casual and fun, the sneaking around, the hidden dates, having sex wherever and whenever you can, and of course, having sex while the others are busy and he's not, and now you convince him to have sex in one of the trucks.

Lodged in one of the backseats, you're on top of him, his uniform folded to his ankles, he looks good with it, but much better out of it.

With slow movements, you tease him, milking him for his worth, hips rolling so skillfully that all he can do is mutter out a few "F-fuck!"'s and a whole lot of "S-shit.... mhmm... jus' like that, honey."

You're perfect, but your teasing is straight-up torturous. "Baby," he whispers, lips grazing over your ear, pathetically and heaving, just needing more of you, even though you're sure he can't go in any deeper.

"We have to be quick." It's almost like a warning, he doesn't want to get caught, and neither do you, but it's so much fun with the risks, with the what-ifs, with the sneaking around and the secrets.

You pull back from his neck with a hearty giggle, the smile adorning your face is sweet and deadly, picking up your pace just slightly, bouncing up and down his veiny cock, feeling him stretch you open, nice and wide.

And as much as you want to pretend that it doesn't have any effect on you, it does. He's big, so big that you can almost feel him splitting you open, feeling him throbbing, can imagine his pink tip going red, tired of all the teasing, but you're nowhere near done. "Oh, do we?"

You throw him another sultry look and at this point, you can barely see his pupils, gaze overblown by desire, the tight hold he has on your hips is almost bruising, marking you, heavy breathing all over your already marked up neck. you know he's going to explode soon. "I don't think you get to decide that, Steve."

Another smirk thrown his way, "What happened, Stevie? gonna cum?" you ask, voice filled with desire, hips grinding against his thighs, every movement is met with his loud moans.

Not even bothering to stifle it.

It's like he wants everyone to know that you're his.

"You're evil," he groans, it's much less pathetic, almost sinful coming out from his salmon-pink lips, the tip of his cock hitting spots inside of you that you didn't know existed.

And you try, so hard, to play it cool, like grinding down on his huge cock is not making you want to scream out.

Like his thick thighs that you are sitting on and heavy balls that are slapping against your sweetest spots aren't making you squirm, like you're not about to whine and beg for him to make you cum.

And, shit, you know he can tell, by the way his big hands grab your hips, guiding you roughly, a bruising hold that makes you let out a mewl, yet, you still hope he doesn't notice.

But he does.

"You love it, don't you? Love me having all the control and being all mean to you?" Your last attempt to have all the control and you fail.

Because his padded thumb rubs circles against your clit, and your voice cracks, turning you into a mewling mess.

He can feel you slipping over the control, it's all so quick, one more move from him and he knows you'll be putty in his hands, begging to have his cock stuffed inside you forever.

Just the thought of that makes him want to spend his load inside of you, a half-smirk is quick to form its place on his freckled cheeks. "That's funny," he grunts, realizing that your movements are slowing down, allowing him to finally drive his cock into you slowly, regaining some sort of control, intently watching the way your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head.

"W-what is?" You try to hum confidently, attempting to mask your submissiveness, but it's too fucking late, and that infamous smirk grows on his cheeks, spreading all over.

He chuckles, the sound bellowing from his stomach, it's downright pornographic, making your pussy flutter in more ways than one.

His movements pick up, fucking into you with short but rough thrusts, filling you all the way in.

"That you think you even have an ounce of control, sweetheart," he growls into your ear, making you moan with need, the room filled with slapping noises, heavy balls hitting against your clit.

All so stimulating.

"I let you have it, and I can take it away just as quick, hmm?" He barely gives you any time to adjust to his words, abusing his cock inside of your soppy pussy, making you gasp as your gaze glistens with tears.

He's just so fucking good.

And you're perfect like this.

"S-steve!" You yelp, driving him more and more to the brink of insanity, hands grabbing any globe of skin he can find, teeth sinking into it, while his cock hits inside of that sweet spongey spot that makes you sing.

You have that fucked out look on your face, plushy lips slightly apart, hair disheveled and brows knitted, Steve wants nothing more than to fuck your drooly lips next, and fill each of your filthy holes with his cum.

"God, I love it much more when you go all cock drunk on me like this.... Can't even form a coherent thought when I'm poundin' into you, can you, honey?" The name sounds sickly sweet rolling off his lips, but in the dirtiest way, and all you can do is nod meekly, grabbing onto his shoulders for some sort of support.

He hums contently, watching the way his cock disappears in and out of you, covered in your juices, perfect fucking sight.

"Singing like an angel the second i have you bouncin' on my cock, that's right, sweetheart, love it so much more when all that's coming out of those pretty little lips are those whines," he whispers in the shell of your ear, mouth running more and more the closer he gets, and his gaze darkens.

"Now be a good girl and take my cock, yea?"