#hazel deserves all the kisses

[mellifiedprincess]

Hazel Callahan x reader

You stare across the field, looking up into the bleachers where Hazel sat, legs sprawled out. She was in the middle of a conversation with Pj and Josie, and even though she wasn’t doing anything particularly special, you couldn’t help but gush at how endearing she looked.

You were so in love with her, it was nauseating.

You’re brought back to focus, when you suddenly feel eyes on you, realizing you’ve been staring at Hazel this whole time. She’s staring right back at you now, and you can’t help but smile. A blush coats your cheeks, as you raise a hand up and send her a small wave.

“Who are you looking at?” Pj asks Hazel, before turning to the field, where she sees you with the rest of the cheerleaders. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen Hazel.”

“Just like you and Brittany are never gonna happen?” Hazel retorts back while rolling her pretty blue eyes.

Hazel already thought you were way out of her league, no matter how confident she was with herself, she still didn’t believe she was good enough for you. You were the sun in her sky and you didn’t even know it.

“Holy shit! Wait- you have to talk to her.” Pj exclaims to Hazel, waving her hands frantically. “I talk to her all the time, Pj. We’re friends.”

“No, talk to her about joining the fight club. Then we can convince her to bring Brittany and Isabel, teach them to defend themselves, and next thing you know we’re making out with cheerleaders.” She pauses looking between Hazel and Josie for any sign of support.

“Have you ever thought that, i don’t know, maybe some people want more than sex? I actually have feelings for Isabel, and whether Hazel wants to admit it, she has actual feelings for Y/n.” Hazel looks over at Josie with a glare, knowing she was right about not wanting to admit her feelings. Because she knew if she did, there was a big chance of being rejected.

“Blah blah blah, you’re in love. Whatever. Come on Hazel, we’re like kind of your only friends. Do this for us?”

Hazel sat in silence for a moment, looking between you and Pj. She knew there was a big chance of this plan failing, and she would end up looking like an even bigger loser than she already was. But she also just really wanted any excuse to be close to you.

“Fine. I’ll do it!”

——

“Y/n, hey! Wait up.” When you hear your name being called from down the hallway, you immediately turn, meeting eyes with Hazel. “Hi Hazel.” You can feel the blush creep up onto your cheeks, as you send her a shy smile. For a moment, all Hazel can do is stare with her mouth slightly agape. Oh wow, she is too cute. Hazel thought to herself, before clearing her throat.

“So, uh, me, Pj, and Josie were talking and have decided to start a fight club.” Her words were a bit rushed and she could tell by the slight tilt of your head and arched brow, you were completely confused. “It’s really more of a way to help with the lack of female solidarity here at school. Teach girls how to defend themselves better.”

“Oh! That sounds really cool Hazel.” “Would you wanna maybe join? Maybe you could get some of your friends to join too!” You smile at that and nod your head yes. “I’d love to! I’ll bring Britt and Isabel too, they’d totally be into it.”

“Cool, so if you want, I could meet you at your locker and we could walk to the gym together?”

“Yeah, that would be really nice.” You back away slowly, before turning to head to your next class. If you would have looked back, you would have seen the lovesick smile Hazel wore.

——

Since then, you and Hazel have grown a lot closer. Not really sure what to call your situation though. Neither of you have made the move and asked the other out officially, but you definitely weren’t just friends. I mean, you don’t sit on the laps of your other friends any time you’re together. Or find yourself making out with them, when alone.

Point is, you were definitely in love with each other, just too scared to admit it.

And now, as you sit beside Hazel, her hand placed on your thigh, surrounded by the other girls. You can’t help but be even more scared that, with the news of the club ending, so would the relationship you’ve built with Hazel.

“Why do you look so sad, sweetheart?” You look up at Hazel when she breaks you from your worrying thoughts.

“I just don’t want this to end.”

“I’m sure everyone will still hangout. Just because the club is ending doesn’t mean we have to ignore each other.” Hazels words don’t do much reassuring for you.

“Haze, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to lose y-“ You were so close to admitting it, but Pj as usual had to ruin it.

“Guys! Stop jumping to conclusions with the goodbyes.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at her. “Pj, don’t be sad it’s over, be happy it happened.” Annie tries to be optimistic, but Pj isn’t having it. “Alright, can we just all calm the fuck down, please? The club isn’t even over yet.”

“No matter what this club has brought me so much. I feel so much more powerful, and, um, protected.” “Me too.” Josie agrees with Isabel, sending her a reassuring smile.

“Great.” Pj huffs out, and you watch Hazel stand up, not really sure what’s happening. “Oh my god, Pj! I’m sorry you didn’t really get what you wanted out of this club, but I think most of us did.” Your eyes slightly widen at the raise of Hazels voice, never hearing her this upset.

“Good for fucking you Hazel. I’m glad you finally wrote one fucking email. Accomplished a lot.” “I did, actually. I practically ran this club for you and Josie.” And that was true.

Hazel dedicated almost all of her free time to this club. A club that meant more to her than it did to Pj. “Okay, let’s calm down, maybe.”

“You really think that you’re the reason we have this club?”

“The reason? No, but I can tell everyone that if you want.” Hazel looks around at everyone, then back to Pj.

What exactly did she mean by that?

“You’re so ungrateful, Hazel. You’re lucky we even let you be a part of this club.” “Pj, you’re a liar.” At that you stand up and grab Hazels hand. “Hey, why don’t you take a walk? Try to calm down a little, clear your head.”

“Yeah well, you can’t even get the girl you’ve been dreaming of fucking to actually fuck you, so.” You immediately look up at Hazel, hearing the harsh admittance. “Leave her out of this Pj.”

“Why? Don’t want her realizing how much of a loser you truly are? You don’t even have any friends.” And that just made your blood boil, Hazel had so many friends.

You watch as Hazel grabs her bag and storms down the stairs and then out the gym. “She’s so fucking drama-“ Pjs words are cut off by your fist connecting to her nose. Sending the girl to her back on the floor. “Talk to her like that again, and it’s gonna be a lot worse next time.” You turn on your heel after that and march out in search of Hazel.

You soon find her looking out at the football field from the top of the bleachers, tears slowly streaming down her face. “Hey, want some company?” You ask softly. She sadly smiles at you and reaches out for your hand, before pulling you down into her lap. Her chin rests on your shoulder, and you can feel her relax a little.

It’s quiet for a little bit. Sounds of the wind blowing breaking it every now and then, but for the most part quiet. Until Hazel breaks it.

“I love you.” It was so softly spoken, you almost missed it. Almost.

“I love you too, Hazel.” You kiss her cheek and watch as she looks at you with confusion on her pretty face. “Wait, what?”

And you laugh. You laugh because how could she not know you felt the same way. She was the moon in your night, always shining bright no matter how dark it was outside.

“Is it so hard to believe that I love you back?”

“Kinda.” She shrugs her shoulders, a shy smile on her face.

“Hazel, I’ve liked you for the longest time. Way before the club started. I thought I was so obvious.”

“I just thought you were super nice all the time.” You both laugh at this. You were two idiots in love with each other and didn’t even know it. “So, does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?” She asks you hopefully. “Only if I can call you mine.” Hazel looks at you for a few seconds before taking your chin and pulling you closer.

“Deal.” She mumbles against your lips.

When you pull away, you sit in silence just trying to catch your breath. Finally at peace with your worried thoughts from earlier in the gym.

“Oh shit!” Your sudden outburst scares Hazel. “What baby?”

“I totally broke Pjs nose before chasing after you.” Your now girlfriend stares at you with wide eyes, before bursting into a fit of giggles, causing you to start laughing too.

“She deserved it.”

[reidrum]

how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things | s.r.

A/N: this is literally prn with no plot i’m sorry. i just really love thinking about spencer on his knees sue me! this was supposed to be longer but then i decided to save it for when i write for juno heheh

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spencer AND munch!spencer look at that a 2-for-1!, fingering fem receiving, brief condescending!spence if you blink, many many pet names, spencer says good girl that’s a warning on its own, afab!reader

summary: you and spencer come home from a night out and he knows exactly what to say to get you wrapped around his finger (literally!)

wc: 1.4k

_______________________________________________

You stumble through the door with Spencer trailing not too far behind you. You’d both been out with the team getting drinks and as the night progressed Spencer found himself getting especially touchy with you, so much that you could still feel the imprint of his hand on your inner thigh.

The drinks of the night had long faded leaving you in a haze as you both entered your apartment, Spencer’s solid frame coming up behind you to hold your waist.

“Good thing I’m here to make sure you don’t fall.” He chuckles softly.

He slowly turns you around and gently pushes you against the wall. You give him a lazy smile as your hand reaches up to trace the outline of his jaw, “You’re pretty.”

“If I’m pretty, what does that make you?”

“Lucky.”

Spencer blushes and smiles softly, “That was good,” He bends down to press a kiss to the spot behind your ear, slowly trailing down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. His fingers press into the sides of your hips, “You okay? Still feeling it?”

You shake your head no pointedly, “Just fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy is good,” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, “You’re nicer when you’re fuzzy.”

“I’m nice all the time!” You feign offense.

He chuckles back, “Okay, you are nice all the time. I think I meant more…compliant.”

You grin up at him, “What, you don’t like me in control?”

“No I do, trust me, I do. But, you deserve to be taken care of. And I really like it when I get to take care of you. It’s easier for me to do that when you’re all…fuzzy.”

Another lazy smiles adorns you and Spencer can’t help but lean in and kiss your nose.

“Well, we aren’t doing anything until these devil shoes come off.” You mutter softly.

Spencer laughs and kisses you one last time before smoothing his hands down your side as he sinks to his knees, gesturing you to lift your foot up and perch it on his shoulder, allowing perfect access to your heel.

You lean back against the wall attempting to flatten your back to ease the aching of it. Through hooded eyes you look down to meet Spencer’s hazel ones staring right back at yours, as his fingers ghost over the straps of your heels.

“Feet hurt?” He asks as he presses the pads of his fingers into the flesh of your calf, gently massaging the skin as he works his way down the buckle of your heel.

“In these? Always.” You laugh back.

“Oh, poor baby.” He mumbles back with a pout, leaning forward to kiss the base of your ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in entice as you watch him leave kisses up your leg, hands following their path and caressing the skin it touches. He gently places your bare foot on the ground and picks up the other heeled one, placing it on his shoulder and repeating the same motions.

The intimacy of the moment strikes you as you watch his long fingers toy with the buckles and straps of your heels before sliding them off. Your hand subconsciously reaches for his hair and cards through it gently, pushing it away from his eyes.

“Hi.” you whisper.

He looks up to meet your gaze, “Hi, honey.”

“You look pretty down there.”

A chuckle escapes him, “Do I?”

You nod, “Are you going to stay down there or…?”

His fingers dance around your calves slowly inching upwards, “What do you want me to do?”

Humming softly at the touch, you lean your head back against the wall, “I want…whatever you want.”

Spencer laughs again, “See? My compliant, pretty girl.” His fingers reach the hem of your dress, slowly inching further up, “I think I’ll stay down here for a little bit…if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, that’s o—okay.” Your breath hitches as he toys with the outer edges of your panties. His fingers trace the outline out to in, just missing contact with where you want him.

You whine softly as he continues to evade the one spot you need him, squirming against the wall for any friction you can find. He lightly chastises you, “So needy…you’re acting like you haven’t been touched in weeks.”

“Spence…”

He hums, “But that’s not true, right?” One finger strokes the front of your panties, tracing a path from the wet patch up to your clothed clit.

“N—No.” You half moan.

His finger lays more pressure, “I take really good care of you, right angel?”

A curse slips from you as he strokes you over your panties.

Spencer smirks as he hooks his index fingers on either side of your panties and slowly starts to drag it down, not missing how the fabric sticks to your slick like honey. “You know why, I take such good care of you?”

You’re too caught up in the anticipation to respond, but that’s not enough for Spencer when he stops his motions and taps your leg, “I asked you a question.”

You look down at him and shake your head exasperatedly, hoping the silent answer was enough for him to continue since you’re nearly on the ledge from the way his hands are moving.

His finger trails back up your leg and ghosts over your exposed cunt, teasing you endlessly, “I take care of you…because you’re a good girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Spencer…please…” You’re not sure how much longer you can take this, your body squirming for any contact.

“Say it.” He pulls back so he can look you directly in the eyes, a single digit sliding through your folds.

“Jesus, fuck,” you let out breathlessly, “Okay, okay I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl, just please…” You can’t even bring yourself to care at how desperate you sound, you would start begging like a sinner in church if he didn’t do anything soon.

He smirks, “That’s my girl,” he taps your thigh, “Over my shoulder.” You quickly abide and raise your leg over his shoulder and rest your thigh on it. Spencer leans in and dives into your folds like a man starved, your hands moving to tangle in his hair and in an effort to stabilize yourself. His tongue motions like he’s making a painting and you definitely think you deserve to be hung in the Louvre after this.

You feel him add a finger in and you’re a goner.

“Spence…I’m—fuck oh my god, please don’t stop.” You whine.

His lips detach from you while he adds another fingers and continues his motions and he mumbles, “You gonna come for me, angel? Been like, what a few minutes and you’re already about to make a mess on my fingers…so needy.” he teases.

He returns back to your core, licking long and thick stripes up and down, his fingers not slowing down as he brings you closer to the edge. The peak begins to build in your gut and the climax overtakes you, a mixture of expletives and Spencer’s name leaving your mouth like a twisted spell.

You release your death grip on his hair as he sits back to catch his breath. You slump down the wall to sit in front of him, your leg still swung over his shoulder. He smiles fondly at you and holds the ankle next to his head, leaning in to press a kiss, “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm…” You hazily say, “Peachy, even.”

His eyes narrow slightly, “…Because they’re fuzzy?” you giggle and nod feeling super proud of your pun. He can’t help but laugh with endearment with you as he gently helps your leg off his shoulder and places it on the ground before standing up himself and reaching his hands out for you to grab it, “Let’s go to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”

You place your hands in his and allow him to pull you up, once you’re on your feet you register his words, “Wait, huh?”

He slowly spins you around so his chest is to your back and starts guiding you down the hallway, “Oh baby, did you think we were stopping at one?” he whispers sultrily in your ear. A shudder runs down your spine and he laughs feeling you shake in his arms.

[misserabella]

c*m hub

ellie williams x fem! reader

💋making cash and making love!

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, dom! ellie, sub! reader, use of sex platform, strap on sex (r! receiving), hair pulling, choking, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, begging, praising, teasing, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, pussy slaps, messy sex, oral sex (r! receiving), mouth fucking w fingers (r! receiving), degradation…

old collab w/ @abbyscherry that got taken down. thanks again for this amazing work love!!❤️

KEEP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE! BOYCOTT THOSE WHO LET THIS GENOCIDE HAPPEN!

how you can help

“yeah just like that baby, oh fuck. bounce on my cock.” your moans were filling your room, one of ellie’s hands on your ass, guiding you up and down on her strap, fucking you so deep you could feel it on your cervix. “so fucking good for me. taking my cock so good…”

you slammed your hips harder down against her own, making her groan as the back of the strap rubbed against her clit.

“that’s it. ride my dick. atta fucking girl…” you whimpered. the image was so dirty, ellie pointing at your pussy swallowing her strap hole with her phone, your white cream dripping down the length of her cock onto the base on a white ring. ellie could almost taste it on her tongue. taste you. maybe if you were a good girl for her she could clean you all up later. “she’s greedy huh? greediest fuckin’ pussy i’ve ever seen” you moaned, fucking yourself harder onto her, your thighs burning. you couldn’t stop. it felt so good…

“els” you whimpered softly, your weak arms wrapped around her neck, your nimble fingers sliding through her damp hair, tugging just enough to tear a grunt from her lips.

“come on baby speak up, what do you want? you want me to fuck you open for all of them to see?” her deep voice muttered against the skin of your neck, sucking a bruise that you’d proudly wear for everyone to see. her eyes latched onto your beautiful breasts, bouncing with every little jump you took on her cock.

“daddy—”

ellie couldn’t help but smirk, her auburn eyebrows curving.

“daddy, huh?” she chuckled, seeing your cheeks turn red. “that’s right baby, i’m your fucking daddy.” her hips thrusted upwards, making you let out the most wonderful moan she has ever heard as the tip of her cock reached your most sensitive spots. “what do y’all think? should daddy give it to her?” she asked to those who were watching her stream, smirking at the donations and money coming through saying that yes, she should totally fuck your brains out.

wordlessly, you’re nodding your head against hers, not even looking at the donations that endlessly flow, and your lips are pressing random kisses to her neck. The sounds of your small ‘yes yes yes’ chants echoing in her ears.

ellie chuckled. “y’all are too good to her. does she deserve it though? do you deserve it babygirl?” she asked, low, sultry. you could cum just by the sound of her voice.

“please daddy, i’ll be good. i’ll be a good girl.” you begged.

“course you will baby, look at you. fucked out and dumb on my cock already”

“want it. want all of it.” your pleading puppy eyes stared into her greenish ones, grinding yourself down with her cock deep inside of you, making your mind and vision dizzy. it felt so good. to feel her like this.

“yeah? you want it?” you nodded, your back arching as one of her hands came up to your chest to cup your right tit, thumb and index pinching your nipple. “then lay on your back for me, baby.” she slightly pushed you until you were falling on your back, whimpering when you felt her cock slide out of your aching and soaked pussy. you needed her back in. needed her deep. as deep as she could reach.

your eyes were wide but hooded, your body shivered as her fingers trailed down your stomach, across your hip bones and between your legs, where she aimed the phone closer, giving them a good view of your pussy. those hazel green eyes focused on the screen, mouth watering at the sight of her fingers so effortlessly peeling apart your folds, groaning out a soft “fuck” as she watches your hole clench around nothing, your slick dripping. “look at her, i told ya, so fuckin’ needy for more” she rasps out.

a scream rips your throat at the slap she gives to your cunt, making your back arch.

“she really needs it, huh?” next thing you felt? her cock gliding through your folds, teasing you, bumping against your clit. it was so fucking big and thick it always hurt to take it, but it hurt so good… you wanted her to break you over and over again after the first time she filled you up with it, begging her to go harder, to use you. and she had. so good.

you cried out. “that’s it baby. let them hear you.”

“please daddy, please…”

she clicked her tongue. “nuh-uh baby. don’t beg me. beg them.” she smirked, pointing the camera at your face. the chat went crazy at your fucked out expression and teary eyes.

you gulped, staring right into the camera. “please. fuck me please.” you whined, moaning when ellie’s hips thrusted against your cunt, the tip of her cock rubbing against your puffy throbbing clit.

“so fucking needy” she grits out, one hand gripping your hip, and the other still holding the phone somewhat still. “i might as well give it to her, don’t y’all think?” she smirked at the positive comments. and you let out a gasp when she slid in in a quick and harsh thrust, all the way to the base.

“fuck!” you screamed. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out as she started to slowly fuck you on her cock, her hips moving so swiftly.

“thaaats it. taking it so good. nice and deep baby.” you were a moaning mess. you were so full.

“ ‘s too big! too big!” you whimpered, feeling your walls squeezing the silicone. ellie groaned. she believed she could feel you, sucking her right in.

“too big baby? is my cock too big for your little pussy?” she inquired. “look at you, whining about it yet you’re milking me dry. fuck” the back of the strap was rubbing against her clit. “look so good taking it, honey. such a good girl for daddy.” you moaned. one of her hands took a grip of your leg, pushing it against your chest, her cock now reaching deeper, kissing your cervix. your eyes rolled back. she was in so deep.

“fuck me, daddy. harder.” you begged, and she groaned.

“fucking slut. can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” a harsh thrust had you screaming. “you want it baby? want me to break this pretty little pussy open on my dick?” you nodded. “words.” she spat, and your lips parted.

“yes! yes please, daddy.”

scoffing under her breath, she mutters out something along the lines of ‘just a dirty girl’ or ‘too dumb to think’ you weren’t exactly sure anymore, not with how good her cock felt— how good she felt. “look at you, fuckin’ taking my cock so well, shit” She chokes out, the hand she has on your leg, gripping harder. “made to take my fuckin’ cock”

“can’t! els s’too much, please” you wail, fingernails bluntly digging into her arm, leaving crescent moons in your wake.

“stop being a cry baby and fucking take it.” she grunted, pistoning inside you. the chat was going crazy at the sight of your pussy sucking in her cock, the silicone drenched in your juices. you were screaming at this point. “so fucking loud.” she groaned, stuffing two of her fingers down your throat. “there. you just needed something to keep that pretty little mouth of yours busy with, hm? come on darling, open up.” you followed, open up further for her and relaxing your throat, gagging when she pushed them even deeper. “thaats it. gag on my fingers, doll.” there was spit dribbling down your chin as she abused your mouth and cunt. you felt so full. your eyes welled up with tears, they flickered between her hazel green ones and the camera that was capturing the lewd image of your cunt swallowing her whole. “fuck. wanna fuck a baby into you, doll. wanna fill you up. wanna leave you dripping for a week with my cum.”

your cunt clenched around her cock, humming in agreement around her fingers at her obscene words. ellie simply chuckles at the way you continue to gag on her fingers, unable to say anything other than making gargled sounds of agreement. “course you’d want that, to be round with my kids, huh? feel my cum filling your pussy, hm?”

the thought of it alone had you whimpering around her fingers, tears rolled uncontrollably down your already tear stained cheeks as you nodded your head as quick as lightening. “yeah, i’ll make you a mama— fuck. you’ll make the prettiest mama, all swollen with my kids. maybe i’ll fuck two into you, hm? would you like that baby? give me twins? make me a daddy?”

all you could really do was nod pathetically. “answer me.” she grunted, pulling her fingers out of your mouth, making you whimper. you missed them.

“yes, yes, please yes…”

“such a dirty little slut” you whined, your hips pushing against the harsh thrust that she gave you, seeking more.

“give it to me daddy. please give me your cum.” ellie moaned, fucking you harder. needier.

the wet squelches of your pussy taking her cock were filling the room along with your choked out moans. knowing that thousands of people were actually watching you right now as ellie fucked the conscience out of you had your cheeks glowing a beautiful crimson.

you could feel that well-known devastating warmth spreading on your stomach, feeling pressure on your spine. you started bucking your hips against hers, seeking for her to reach deeper. you looked desperate. like an animal in heat. maybe you were. so desperate to cum you were trembling. shaking under her hold. the pings of donations were deafening. “you hear that baby? hear how much they want you? but you’re mine, aren’t you? fucking mine.” you nodded. “say it.”

“i’m yours. yours daddy, yours.” you slurred, feeling cock drunk. so close to cumming. your cunt was pulsing. she could almost feel it.

“you gonna cum, baby? gonna milk my cock, hm?” you moaned. “yeah that’s right. tight fucking pussy. my pussy. my fucking pussy.”

“wanna make you a daddy” you hiccup. “i’ll make you a daddy” that only makes her fuck you faster, harder, cutting off your moans with every thrust. “ellie, gonna… gonna cum!” you somehow managed to babble in between sobs and whimpers.

“yeah, fucking right.” she moaned, feeling her own high approaching by the way the back of the strap rubbed her swollen and throbbing clit. quickly removing her hand and grip on your leg, she places the same hand lightly around your throat, enjoying the way your eyes widen. “gonna give it to daddy, baby?” she chuckled, fingers twitching against your neck.

you nodded, using your own hand to put more pressure on hers. “more…”

the noise she made was somewhere between a breathless chuckle or grunt, you weren’t really sure but she inhaled sharply through her nose. “you really are fuckin’ dirty aren’t you?” she growled, fingers tightening around your neck just enough to have your lips parting and back arching. the lack of air in your lungs only turned you on even more. “c’mon pretty, give it to daddy like the good girl you are” she didn’t have to ask twice. before you know it moans were spilling from your lips as your walls choked her cock, pulsing and creaming all over the silicone as she fucked you through it, camera focused on the way your cum dribbled out of your hole. “good girl. good fucking girl.” she grunted, feeling her high approaching by just the sight alone. “fuck. gonna cum baby. gonna cum inside this tight little pussy. gonna fuck a baby into you. fuck, fuck, fuck!” she moaned. you begged for it. tears swelling in your eyes.

“inside daddy please, cum inside!” you whimpered, feeling her thrust one, two, three more sloppy times before she was grunting and cumming all over her strap.

“fuuuuuuck.” she groaned, fucking herself through it, using you like a little fuck toy. you moaned when she finally stilled, breathing ragged and hazel eyes glasses over in lust.

the pings of donations wouldn’t stop coming. fuck. she was gonna spoil the shit out of you after this.

and maybe she could start now.

“take the phone.” she ordered, handing you the it. your shaky hands took it, your vision turning white for a moment as she pulled out of you. you whimpered. feeling empty. you hoped she would fuck you again. even stay inside and let you cockwarm her.

you watched through the screen, the camera was focused on her exposed chest, perky little breasts making your mouth water. you wanted to suck on them. then, she slowly got onto her stomach and in between your legs, hazel eyes staring up at you and into the camera. you bit down onto your lip, spreading your legs wider for her, to what she hummed. she looked at your pussy. at your swollen and glistening pussy, and groaned. “so fucking wet…” you moaned when the feeling of warm spit pooled in between your folds. she was slowly dribbling onto your cunt. her hand found your pussy to spread the wetness around and expose your twitching hole just to spit on it. you whined, your hips bucking against her face, what made her chuckle. “eager, aren’t we?” and then her tongue was on you, and you were moaning, the phone tilting upwards as your grip staggered. she sucked on your clit and let go with a pop, her free hand coming up to straighten the camera for you. “keep it still or i’ll stop.” she threatened, and your eyes rolled back. there it was. that sultry voice of her that made you drip.

the hand that wasn’t holding onto the phone threads through her auburn hair, tugging just enough that she hums into your pussy, willingly letting you push her head closer. your breath shaky as you continue to watch her eagerly slurp and suck at your folds through the little cracked screen. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted”

you were looking at the chat, reading the messages that the people posted as ellie slowly yet hungrily ate you out. you were biting on your lip, rocking your hips against her face, making her grunt. she looked at the camera, licking you up from hole to clit, sucking on it and making you moan. you knew she was doing it for you, to rile you up.

“fuck, ellie.” you sighed as she suckled on your clit, slurping up your slick and kissing your folds. “your fingers. your fingers please.” you pleaded. and she moaned, one of her fingers quickly finding your entrance and prodding against it, teasing you. “daddy, please.. i’ve been so good”

“you guys think she has? think she’s been good enough for daddy?” the comments filled the screen, the donations ringing. ellie grinned against your folds. she knew what that meant. “well then…” and suddenly she was pushing her middle finger in, making you gasp.

“fuck!” you cried out, your hips bucking against her face to push her deeper. she continued lapping at your pussy, looking at your expressions. she loved to se you fall apart under her tongue.

“yeah?” she inquired. she knew she was good. “that good, huh?” she teased, curling her finger against your g spot.

your fingers tangled tighter in her hair, nails scratching at her scalp. “so good daddy, always” you knew this only riled her up more, made her needier for you. she was thrusting against the sheets, rutting her puffy clit and soaked pussy against the back of her strap for some friction as she pushed in a second finger. you sighed. “yes, fuck. yes just like that.” she hummed as you cried out, feeling your second orgasm of the night approaching at great speed. “gonna cum again, oh fuck, gonna cum again!” you whimpered, and she went faster, sucked harder on your clit.

“i know, can feel it. pussy’s squeezing around my fingers, fuck” she groans hoarsely. “let daddy have it yeah? c’mon, please” she’s begging. groaning when your legs tighten around her head, keeping her caged in.

it’s happening before you can even ask her to cum, like you normally would. your fingers gripping her hair so tightly that she’s hissing, the movements of her tongue and fingers still fucking into you at a hard pace.

she devours you. eats you up. slurps on your cum and satiates herself. you always taste like fucking heaven.

both your worlds disconnect for a moment. you forget about the stream, and almost about breathing as you ride out your orgasm, thighs shaking at the sides of ellie’s face. and when you both come to your senses, you’re spent. and now thousands of dollars richer.

and maybe and just maybe, once the stream is over, you two fuck for hours on end. this time for yourselves, until you’re both passing out on each other’s arms and with cum in between your thighs.

“love you, els”

“i love you, baby”

-

a/n; hi babies, i’ve missed you so much! have a couple of works on drafts for you so you’ll be hearing from me soon :))

also ty so so so so much for the 9k followers i’m so happy i don’t deserve y’all😭❤️

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Too Much Like Me

Potter!Reader tells her dad she's been asked on a date.

Summary: James finds out Lily's type in men is apparently genetic.

Wc: ~1.7k

CW: Just chaotic fluffy hijinks - a jab about Americans

“Dad.” You trailed James into the kitchen, fighting to keep your voice calm despite the storm brewing ahead.

But James Potter, in all his dramatic glory, had gone entirely deaf. Arms flailing like a prophet warning of doom, he roared, “Family meeting!”

“No! No family meeting!” you yelped, lunging for his arm. You barely stifled a laugh as he flailed harder, like a fish trying to escape the net.

James spun around, courtroom-drama style, and gasped at you with the intensity of someone catching their child red-handed with a cursed artifact. “Fred Weasley? Our Fred Weasley? That Fred Weasley?”

“Yes, that Fred Weasley,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Merlin’s saggy balls, I regret telling you already.”

James slammed his hand on the counter for emphasis, pivoting toward the sitting room like a man possessed. “Lily!” he thundered, shaking the walls. “Lily, get in here! Your daughter’s lost her mind!”

“Dad, for Merlin’s sake!” You tried to grab him again, but James had started pacing now, looking like a wizard unjustly accused of crimes against decorum.

“Not in my house! Not under my roof!” He spun around, hazel eyes bulging with a level of betrayal that deserved an award. “Fred Weasley doesn’t know the meaning of curfew! Or- Merlin help us- a respectable bedtime! Do you think I’m letting that chaos into my family? After all I’ve sacrificed? For you?”

“James,” came Lily’s voice, calm but laced with amusement. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, her lips twitching. “What are you yelling about this time?”

James turned to her, a man on the brink. “Fred Weasley! He asked her out! Our daughter! On a date! Alone! With no chaperone!”

Lily blinked, then turned to you with a grin brighter than a Patronus. “Oh!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up. “He finally asked?”

James froze mid-tirade, pointing an accusatory finger at his wife. “Finally? What do you mean, finally? Have you been... supporting this? Encouraging it?”

Lily shrugged, her grin widening as she pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the kitchen. “He’s a lovely boy, James. Polite, clever, charming. He reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Don’t you dare—” James began, his tone low and dangerous.

“You,” Lily finished brightly, jabbing him in the chest. “Fred’s just like you were. All mischief and charm. No wonder she likes him.”

James gawked at her like she’d suggested selling their house to a pack of trolls. “That’s exactly why she can’t date him! I was Fred Weasley, Lily! Do you know what I would’ve done if someone let me date their daughter?”

“You married her,” Lily said sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, winking at you as it effectively stunned the red mess that was your father.

James froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, completely derailed by Lily’s well-placed jab and affectionate kiss. He finally managed to sputter, “That’s- That’s completely different!”

“How, exactly?” Lily teased, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms again. “Because if I recall correctly, you were a menace, Potter. A charming menace, but a menace nonetheless. Fred’s cut from the same cloth, and you turned out all right.”

James spluttered, gesturing wildly at you. “Because this is my daughter! She’s not supposed to fall for charmers like Fred Weasley! I can’t just let this happen! Where’s the fatherly dignity in that?”

“Oh, James,” Lily sighed, patting his shoulder with exaggerated pity. “I hate to break it to you, but you lost your ‘fatherly dignity’ the day you wore those matching Christmas jumpers with Sirius.”

“That was solidarity!” James barked, his ears reddening as he straightened his posture in a futile attempt at reclaiming authority. “And anyway, this is different. I’m supposed to protect her! Shield her from the heartbreakers and mischief-makers of the world.”

“Fred’s not a heartbreaker, Dad,” you said, exasperated but amused. “He’s actually- dare I say- nice? And maybe even mature? A little bit?”

James looked like he might faint. “Mature?! You’re telling me Fred Weasley- the bloke who turned all the Quidditch goalposts into giant marshmallows- is mature?! What next? He’s taken up knitting?”

“Knitting would be a good look for him,” Lily quipped, clearly enjoying herself. “Very soothing hobby. He could knit you a jumper, James, to match that dignity you’ve misplaced.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the visual, and James threw his hands up, pacing the kitchen again. “I can’t believe this. I’m being outnumbered in my own home.”

“It’s called democracy- like the Americans,” Lily said, smirking as she leaned against the counter. “And right now, you’re the losing party.”

James stopped pacing to glare at her. “Fred acts like a damned American..” He mumbled before he raised his voice. “This is treason. Pure, unadulterated treason.”

“James,” Lily replied patiently, though her lips twitched with amusement. “You’ll survive.”

At that moment, Harry wandered into the kitchen, his face set in curious confusion as he surveyed the scene. He held a plate of leftover treacle tart, chewing leisurely. “What’s with all the shouting, then?” He asked, his tone disinterested but his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

James immediately pounced, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Your sister has decided to go on a date with Fred Weasley, Harry! Fred Weasley! What do you have to say about that?”

Harry blinked at him, clearly trying to piece together the situation. Then his gaze slid to you, and his smirk grew as he swallowed a bite of tart. “Fred, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Nice. Bold choice. Never a dull moment with a Weasley.”

“Bold-? Harry!” James looked genuinely wounded. “This is a betrayal! Your own sister-"

“Is an adult,” Harry interrupted, shrugging. “And you’re acting like she’s run off to marry Voldemort’s ghost.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” you muttered under your breath, earning a snort from Harry.

“Not helping, Harry!” James barked, looking thoroughly frazzled now. He pointed at you again. “Fine! Go on your date! But I’m watching him. One toe out of line, and-”

“And what?” you challenged, grinning now as Lily watched on, clearly entertained. “You’ll duel him? Turn him into a marshmallow like his Quidditch goalposts?”

James opened his mouth, floundering for a retort, but Lily stepped in, tugging him gently away from the center of the chaos. “Come on, love,” she cooed soothingly. “Why don’t we sit down, have a cuppa, and let the kids handle their own lives for once?”

James sighed, finally deflating. “Fine,” he grumbled, shooting you one last suspicious look. “But mark my words- an eye for an eye! Harry, date his younger sister!”

Harry froze, the bite of treacle tart halfway to his mouth as the words sunk in. His eyes darted between you, Lily, and James, clearly trying to figure out if this was his moment to fess up or quietly Disapparate.

“What?” James demanded, noticing Harry’s hesitation. “What’s with that face? Don’t tell me you’ve already thought about it!”

Lily covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing immediately, doubling over as the image of James putting two and two together hit you.

“Why are you laughing?” James barked, looking between the two of you like he was missing the punchline to a joke everyone else got. “What’s so funny? Harry, explain yourself!”

Harry, clearly seeing no way out, sighed and placed his plate of treacle tart on the counter. “Dad,” he started, bracing himself, “I’m already dating Ginny.”

James froze. Completely, utterly froze. His jaw hung slack, his hands hovering mid-air like a malfunctioning automaton.

“You’re what?” He whispered, his voice teetering on the edge of shock and betrayal.

You howled with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. “Oh, Merlin, this is priceless!” You gasped. “Dad, your face- your face!"

“James, breathe,” Lily advised through her own laughter, leaning against the counter for support. “You’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

James finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes narrowing into sharp points of indignation. “Ginny?! Ginny Weasley?! First her with Fred, and now you- how long has this been going on?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to make himself look smaller. “A while.”

“A while?" James repeated, his voice cracking. “Define ‘a while.’ A few days? Weeks?”

Harry hesitated. “Since... fifth year?”

“Fifth year?!" James bellowed, looking like he might explode. “That’s years! Years, Harry! And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

“What was I supposed to say?” Harry shot back, clearly frustrated now. “‘Hey, Dad, by the way, I’m snogging Ron’s little sister’? That would’ve gone over well.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than me finding out like this!” James cried, gesturing wildly at nothing in particular. “My own son! Betraying me! I raised you better than this, Harry!”

Lily wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, James. They’re clearly happy, and Ginny’s a wonderful girl. You love her.”

“That’s not the point, Lily!” James snapped, his hands flying to his hair. “It’s- this is-!Fred! Ginny! My children and their Weasleys! What’s next? Ron’s going to marry into the family, too?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Well... technically, Hermione-"

“No! They got her too!?" James cut him off, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t even tell me! I won’t survive it! This is it- this is how I go. Betrayed by my own family and buried in a sea of Weasleys.”

You leaned against the counter, wheezing with laughter. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” James turned to you, his face a picture of righteous indignation. “You don’t understand. I fought a war for this family- for this! And now my legacy is going to be a house full of Weasleys!”

“Sounds cozy,” Lily teased, patting his arm. “You’ll come around, James. You always do.”

James groaned, sinking into a chair as if all the fight had been drained out of him. “Fine,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine. Date your Weasleys. Marry them. Name your kids Fred and Ginny Jr. for all I care.”

You patted his shoulder, grinning. “Love you, Dad.”

He shot you a glare but muttered, “Love you, too. But don’t think for one second I’m not watching Fred like a hawk.”

“And Ginny?” Harry asked, daring to push his luck.

James pointed a warning finger at him. “You, young man, are on thin bloody ice."

Lily hushed James as she patted his back, leading him out of the kitchen. He continued to blabber on, muttering something along the lines of;

“Is this my fault?”

“Merlin, does Molly know?”

“Bloody redheads- OW!”

[thinkinonsense]

dbf!logan who adores taking care of you *mdni

a/n: sorry if this doesn't fit the exact vibe lmao i kinda went off script with this one

logan and your father have been close friends for quite some time now. They met at one of your father's odd jobs and around the time that you first started university was when logan met you.

the prettiest young thing he's ever seen. it didn't take long for logan to sink his claws into you and make you his.

it started out innocently, logan would catch you rushing out of the house to go on a date with some frat guy and he would stop you at the door.

"might wanna pull down that dress, bunny." logan said, reaching down to tug at the tiny red dress you were wearing. "don't want 'em thinkin' that you're easy, right?"

his sweet condescending words send a flush of heat up to your cheeks. logan had never spoken to you like that; no one had really.

"right, mr.howlett." you nodded, avoiding his piercing gaze. "t-thanks."

logan hated seeing you leave with some asshole who didn't know how to treat a girl like you. only he could handle you.

as the months passed, logan finally made his mark on you. he had been waiting it out for too long; tormented by images of you kissing guys that you didn't even like. he hated how you would come back with messy hair and a frown on your face from a night of disappointment. on logan's way out, he would pass you on the porch and fix your hair for you. see? he wasn't too bad after all.

you wanted logan and he knew it for certain, he could smell you and there was no escaping that.

"come sit." logan stated, startling you. your father had a work emergency to take care of, he said he would be right back but it's already been ten minutes alone with logan.

carefully, you decide to sit on the other end of the couch; farthest away from his thick thighs were spread for his own comfort.

"closer, bunny." he instructs, patting his lap for you to sit. "i don't bite."

you hesitated for a second before taking a seat on the dark denim material. it tickled the back of your bare thighs a little.

"i'm not sure about this, mr.howlett." your voice was meek; eyes staring down at his belt buckle rather than up at his hazel ones. "my father should be back soon."

"we've got enough time." logan assured, lacing a hand through your hair, pulling you closer until your lips meet.

everything started out slow, logan didn't want to scare you away. it wasn't until he felt you moving on top of him, that he deepened the kiss and slipped his hand under your shirt.

you shouldn't want someone like logan; broken beyond repair, old enough to be your parent, and someone who waited you out for his own selfish needs.

"l-l-logan." you pant against his lips, grey beard tickling you softly.

his belt buckle catches on your cotton underwear, causing your eyes to roll back. logan adored every sound that fell from your lips. engraving every moment into his brain. your little reactions to the friction reminded that none of these boys you wasted your time with knew how to care for you like he does.

neither of you were exactly sure how much time had passed but sooner than you would like, a car pulled into the driveway.

logan was the first to pull away from the kiss, admiring his hard work. he loved how messy you got while kissing him. your eyes a daze and a blissed out smile upon your lips.

"ya made a mess on that pretty face, sweetheart." he whispers wiping your smeared red lipstick and adjusting your top.

you liked being logan's dirty little secret and he enjoyed riling you up any chance he got; whether it was quick heated kisses while waiting for your father to come back the garage with those tools logan asked to borrow, or if he had a couple minutes to lift up that short skirt that's been plaguing his mind all day long.

one thing about being with an older man like logan is that he took care of you like how you deserved.

[little-jana]

"She Said No"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: jealous Spencer, a guy flirting with reader, kissing

Words: 1.5k

Summary: After a case, a guy starts flirting with the reader. Spencer doesn't like that at all.

The bar was crowded, buzzing with music and voices overlapping in a chaotic harmony. The team had chosen this place to unwind after a long case, and though it wasn’t my scene, I didn’t want to be the only one to say no. I figured a couple of hours with a fruity drink and good company couldn’t hurt.

I stuck close to the bar while the others scattered—Garcia dragged Morgan to the dance floor, JJ and Will found a quieter corner to chat, and Emily and Rossi were already laughing over glasses of whiskey. Spencer was somewhere, probably lost in thought or nursing a single beer, but I couldn’t spot him right away.

I was halfway through my drink when a man slid into the seat beside me. I didn’t notice him at first, too busy scanning the room, but his voice broke through the noise.

“Looks like you’re flying solo tonight.”

I glanced at him, startled by his sudden proximity. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wore an expensive suit that clashed with the casual vibe of the bar. His confidence was palpable, his smile overly polished.

“Not exactly,” I replied politely, lifting my drink. “I’m here with friends.”

“Friends?” he asked, leaning closer. “So, not a boyfriend?”

I frowned, my grip tightening around my glass. “No, just friends.”

“Good,” he said with a grin. “That makes this easier.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

He gestured to the bartender to get me another drink, ignoring the confused look on my face. “You looked like you needed some company. A guy like me can’t let a girl like you sit here all alone.”

My polite smile faltered. “I’m fine, really. But thanks.”

“Come on,” he said, undeterred. “It’s just a drink.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“She said no.”

I turned, surprised to find Spencer standing just behind me. His hands were shoved into his pockets, but the tightness in his jaw and the sharpness in his eyes told a different story.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And who are you?”

“I’m her friend,” Spencer replied evenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a weight that made the man pause. “And she’s not interested.”

“Friend, huh?” the man said, smirking. “Doesn’t seem like you’re her type.”

Spencer didn’t react to the jab, his expression calm but unyielding. “She already gave you her answer. I suggest you walk away.”

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “Whatever, man. Good luck.”

He turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me standing there, my heart racing.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, glancing up at Spencer.

“Yes, I did,” he said, his gaze still fixed on where the man had walked off. “He wasn’t listening to you.”

“I had it under control,” I insisted, though my voice lacked conviction.

Spencer turned to me then, his hazel eyes softening. “I know you did. But he had no right to put you in that position.”

There was something in his tone that made my breath catch. It wasn’t just protective—it was possessive in a way I’d never seen from Spencer before.

“Why does it bother you so much?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

He hesitated, his eyes darting away. “It doesn’t.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it seemed like it did.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a quiet sigh. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he admitted. “Like you were… something to win.”

My heart fluttered, and I took a step closer to him without thinking. “And how do you look at me?”

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, finally, he sighed.

“Like someone I don’t deserve,” he said softly.

My breath caught, and I felt my cheeks flush. “Spencer…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I just… I couldn’t stand there and watch him treat you like that. I couldn’t.”

The words hung between us, heavy and charged. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the warmth spreading through my chest.

Before I could respond, Morgan’s voice broke the silence. “Hey, Pretty Boy, you good?”

We turned to find the rest of the team watching us, their curiosity evident. Morgan raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension.

“Yeah,” Spencer said quickly, stepping back. “We’re fine.”

Morgan didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, turning back to the others.

When we were alone again, I turned to Spencer, my heart still racing. “Thank you,” I said softly.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice quiet.

“I know,” I said, smiling. “But I want to.”

He smiled back, that shy, boyish smile that always made my heart ache.

“Can I walk you out?” he asked.

I nodded, and as we stepped out into the cool night air, I couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between us—something I wasn’t ready to let go of.

As Spencer and I stepped into the crisp night air, the hum of the bar faded behind us, replaced by the distant sounds of the city. The cool breeze brushed against my skin, sending a slight shiver through me, but it wasn’t just the cold that made my chest feel tight. Spencer walked beside me, his hands tucked into his pockets, his head slightly bowed. There was a quiet tension between us, a palpable shift that neither of us had dared to fully acknowledge.

“Spencer,” I said softly, breaking the silence.

He glanced at me, his hazel eyes warm but uncertain. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said earlier. Thank you.” I stopped walking, turning to face him. “Not just for stepping in tonight, but… for always looking out for me.”

He stopped too, his gaze locking with mine. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said, his voice low. “I’d do it a hundred times over.”

The sincerity in his words sent a wave of warmth through me, and for a moment, I forgot about the chill in the air. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.” His voice was steady, but his expression softened, as if he were letting a part of himself show that he usually kept hidden. “You mean… so much to me.”

My breath caught in my throat. He’d always been careful with his words, always measured. But there was nothing calculated about the way he was looking at me now, like he was on the edge of saying something that could change everything.

“You mean a lot to me too, Spencer,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, that shy, vulnerable smile that made my heart ache. “You know, I’m not… the best at expressing how I feel. But tonight, when that guy wouldn’t leave you alone…” He paused, running a hand through his hair, clearly searching for the right words. “It made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you. I can’t keep pretending I don’t—”

“Spencer,” I interrupted gently, stepping closer to him.

He froze, his eyes searching mine. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make this awkward or ruin anything, but I—”

“You’re not ruining anything,” I said, cutting him off again. “I promise.”

He blinked, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

So, I took the leap for both of us. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to say something like this?” I asked, my cheeks warming as I admitted it out loud.

His eyes widened slightly. “You have?”

I nodded, a soft laugh escaping me. “You’re kind of oblivious, you know that?”

A small, embarrassed smile tugged at his lips. “I’ve been told that before.”

I stepped even closer, so close that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “You don’t have to be afraid, Spencer. I feel the same way.”

The tension between us seemed to shift then, no longer heavy with uncertainty but something lighter, warmer, filled with hope. He let out a breath he must have been holding, and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Can I—” He hesitated, his voice trailing off.

“Yes,” I said softly, not needing him to finish the question.

He didn’t move right away, his eyes scanning my face as if committing every detail to memory. Then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against my cheek. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

And then he kissed me.

It was soft at first, tentative, like he was still afraid of crossing a line. But as I leaned into him, threading my fingers through his hair, the kiss deepened. There was something intoxicating about the way he kissed—equal parts tender and desperate, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as I had.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. His hand was still on my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

I smiled, my heart swelling at the vulnerability in his words. “You don’t have to do anything, Spencer. You’re enough just as you are.”

His eyes searched mine, and for the first time, I saw something in them I’d never noticed before—hope.

“I don’t want this to change anything,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” I promised, my voice steady. “This just makes what we have even better.”

He smiled then, a genuine, unguarded smile that made my chest feel warm. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

I laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

We stood there for a while, wrapped in the quiet of the night and the warmth of each other. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us in this perfect, fragile moment.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t afraid of what came next.

[sugurusyndrome]

cw/tags: househusband!nanami, fluff, smut, fem!reader

— oh househusband!nanami my love…

househusband!nanami initially resisted the idea of being a stay at home husband when you first proposed it. aghast, he might even say. he couldn’t fathom the possibility of being dependent upon your income. not that his masculinity was threatened or anything of the sort. you were the one supposed to be spoiled while he does the hard work.

your husband was traditional in a quite endearing sense. bless his giant heart and his even bigger cock.

“darling, i want to do this. for us,” you had gently insisted. reaching forward, you took off his spectacles and brushed a hand around his cheek. “you deserve to be pampered, too.”

househusband!nanami was exhausted from the long hours over many years and he knew his wife was sorely aware of that fact. he leaned into your touch, hazel eyes slipping shut.

“alright, my love.”

it took some adjusting to his new role during the first few days. when your alarm rang, you swiftly silenced it so he wouldn’t wake up. looking over your shoulder, you find his side of the bed empty.

househusband!nanami had gotten dressed as usual before remembering he didn’t need to work anymore. instead of going back to bed, he whipped up a breakfast feast fit for a queen. he also sent you off to your big-shot job with a kiss and your lunch.

soon enough, this became a routine. a hearty breakfast followed by a “see you later” kiss—kento didn’t like saying goodbye, it’s always “see you later.” househusband!nanami wanted to bring a smile to your hectic days so he stuck an adorable note in his neat handwriting squarely on your lunchbox. he never ran out of words to express his love for you.

househusband!nanami was finally able to tackle the books that had accumulated on his side of the bedroom but never had the chance to read. you could only imagine how he looked like, all cozy. in the nook of the living room where the sun shone best, he had one leg tucked under his body with his glasses perched on his sharp nose.

when he was not devouring words, househusband!nanami was taking himself on a stroll in the neighbourhood with a cup of a pick-me-up coffee. once, he passed a park and sat at a bench watching the mothers playing with their children with a soft smile. however, he quickly walked away because he realized his presence as a sole man just lingering at the edge of the park might be a cause of concern for the mothers. you giggled later over dinner when he recounted his thoughts to you. what a thoughtful man you married.

you wanted to give him 10 children.

if not books or a stroll in the neighbourhood, househusband!nanami was doing his duty ever so happily between your legs.

"k-ken..." you whimpered, back arching gracefully while your nails scraped his undercut in a way that made him growl into your pussy. he knew how much you loved the vibrations as much as he went crazy for your nails on his scalp. "missed this pussy today....mmm...” he captured your clit in a wet, hungry kiss. “take tomorrow off for me, sweetheart.”

this part of the night quickly cemented its spot as his favourite. to absolutely neither of your surprises.

househusband!nanami became fast friends with the owners of your favourite bakery. they already knew him from his frequent visits after his long shifts to pick up something sweet for his wife but the more he hung out there, the closer he got with the bakers. you were particularly fond of the strawberry shortcake from there and what did he do? oh yes, he learned how to make it. everything was from scratch down to the syrup. by the end of it he was sticky but super excited to surprise you with it for your birthday.

"honey, those better be happy tears," he chuckled, drawing you into a tender hug. either that, or the cake turned out to be a disaster.

"of course they are, kento!" you blubbered in his chest. strawberry syrup and whipped cream was smeared around your mouth, mixing with your tears.

oh, how you adored this man to his bare bones. and he devotedly breathed in the very air you exhaled.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. ♡

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thinking about aot men who’d be the softest doms ever . . .

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍, 𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓

cw — fem!reader. size kink (erwin) body worship (jean, levi) praise kink. lots of breedings. edging, fingering, some nipple play (levi) sub!armin (implied)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : hi hi! it’s been a while since i made an actual post here. apologies! life got busy, but i finally have time to make fics again :D there might be some changes on this account but we’ll see! anyways, please enjoy and feedback is welcomed! 🤍

➸ jean kirstien.

he’s already so much of a sweetheart, so it’s not shock he’s carry that to the bedroom. he’s needy but slow, as it’d be way too easy to accidentally hurt you. the size difference aroused yet made him a bit nervous. (the first time was quite a hassle!) nonetheless, jean gave you the fuckin’ princess treatment every time the both of you would get intimate. kissing every inch of your body while caressing your hips with his large hands. he’d gently lay your down, not pulling away from the sloppy kiss the two of you are engaging in. did i mention that this man is huge? he adores watching you struggle to take him completely, squirming and whining as he stretches your smaller cunny inch by inch.

“j-jean..’s too big!” you whined, watching through glassy eyes as your boyfriend hovered over you, sinking himself deeper and deeper into your weeping cunt. your legs twitch in a failing attempt to keep them open, something jean would immediately notice. “does it hurt babe?” he asked in a groan, hazel eyes carving holes into yours through hooded lids. you could only shake your head as he took it as a confirmation to bottom himself out. your eyes rolled to your brain and your jaw went slack as jean watched in awe. “look at you..taking it so well f’me.” he sighed, slowly beginning to pump you full as ecstasy filled your senses. the only thing you could hear were jean’s sweet praises, telling you how much of a good little girl you were for taking him so well and patiently. your head grew hot as the feeling of his dick stuffing you full began to overwhelm you. “good little girl, always taking my dick so well..fuck you’re so cute!”

➸ erwin smith.

oh my god. erwin. what more can i say, he’s a gentleman in bed! anything you ask for, he will do without hesitation. want him to knock you up? done. want some head? he’s already on his knees. sad after a rough day? he’ll stuff your cunny full until your filled n happy. anything your heart desires, he’ll give it to you with all the adoration he has for you. ♡ even better when you realize how big he is. how he can easily pick you up and fuck you silly in mid air if he really wanted to. even better, how massive his fucking dick is, enough to make your mouth water just by the thought of it.

“e-erwin!” you whined, watching your husband’s face as he stared down at you. a gaze full of softness and love, a stark contrast to how he was treating you. a smile to his wife while fucking her slutty pussy like an attention deprived whore. “how did i get so lucky? what did i do to deserve such a beautiful girl as my wife..” he breathily chuckled, fucking into you at a slightly faster pace. erwin started down at you, from your flustered smile to your breasts and stuffed cunt, every last detail on you brought him closer to the edge. “good girl..my good girl. you deserve every inch i give you..”

➸ levi ackerman.

contrary to popular belief, levi isn’t the mean and rough dom many make him out to be (still adore that levi tho!) but rather, a gentle and passionate type of dom. he’s not the most romantic, but oh boy, when he is..buckle up. this man will treat you like your his final meal on death row, savoring every inch of flesh you have on your body. kissing you from your lips to your clit, muttering sweet nothings while pumping his slender fingers inside your cunny. he sings his praises when he’s balls deep in you, calling you names like ‘princess’ and ‘darling’, anything that fills your stomach with butterflies if its not his cock. your legs are already trembling from his voice alone, not helping the fact his groans are fuckin’ perfection.

“settle down princess, i barely did a thing.” levi carassed your breast with one hand while finger fucking you with the other. all he needed was two fingers and his wrist as he flicked it with a quickened pace that almost forced your thighs shut from shock and pleasure. while your mouth was closed, tiny whines still manage to spill through as your husband’s thumb moved it’s way to your clit, adding to the overstimulation. with his other hand, he tugged and played with your nipple while letting go just to take a gentle squeeze to your whole breast. you’re thighs shook as your orgasms reaches closer and you grabbed the coller of levi’s loose shirt for support. “‘s becoming too much princess? you wanna cum all over my fingers?” he spoke in a gentle and low tone, making you nod eagerly to his question. “How cute, shit—if only I could do this everyday.”

➸ armin arlot.

armin armin armeeen! <3 you already know what kind of man he is. his partner’s pleasure is a priority he takes very seriously, from letting you choose the position to making sure you orgasm first before he spills his seed inside you. he gives you princess treatment even after sex, not letting up until you knock out from exhaustion. he fucks you like your a goddess, hitting every sensitive spot in your while singing his praises. he wants, no, needs to see you cum around his cock as it’ll make the night worth it. he won’t lie, seeing you whimpering and shamelessly getting off to him servicing you never fails to push him over the edge and nearly fuck a baby in you. this man is a keeper!

“t-this good enough for you..?” armin sighed, watching you take in his dick inch by inch until you’ve completely sat down on it. “y-yeah..fuck you’re huge..!” you whined out, grabbed his thighs and trying your best to move while the overwhelming pleasure had you shaking. the blonde placed his hands on the plush of your hips, firmly holding it as he lifted you up from his cock before slamming you back down on it. a yelp tore from your throat, nails digging into the flesh of his thigh and your eyes screwed shut from the sharp pleasure. “right there! armin fuck..!” you mewl as he guided your hips, slamming his cock in and out of you at the pace you desired the most. his blue eyes peered through his bangs as he grew redder and redder from the expression you wore so beautifully. mouth parted open in an ‘o’ shape with slightly arched eyebrows, pink washed over your face with red sitting right on your cheeks. fuck, he was insatiable. “yes..just like that love, just like you wanted. always taking it like the good girl you are. ♡”

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

a little comfort fuck with Spencer Reid after he's back from prison, questioning if you still deserve him after everything that happened. (i love this man a completely normal amount i swear)

LOVE it!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SAFE AND SOUND.

spencer reid x fem!reader — smut

word count. 615

warnings. 18+ pinv, cowgirl on the couch, cute comfort stuff. minors dni

You found it difficult to process everything during those months of Spencer's absence, everything almost crumbling around you while your boyfriend sat in a cell for a crime he didn't commit. Every thought went to him, every ounce of energy went to him, every resource went to him, but it wasn't enough. The endless sessions in front of lawyers and his teammates felt almost pointless.

You didn't want to lose hope, especially for someone you love, someone innocent, but it was hard. You and his team struggled, and you couldn't imagine how Spencer was coping with it all - with all the changes.

But then, the day of his release finally rolled around. 

He had been back for almost two hours now: all fresh, clean and showered, tummy full with a hearty homemade meal. He wasn't himself, but as the minutes slowly passed, you began to see him settling back to being home, being safe. Tiny slithers of his old personality creeping back.

It wasn't long before you were rekindling the passion from before those few months, both of you on the couch - you sat atop him, straddling his lap. The full length of his cock, tucked snugly inside your pussy. 

Neither one of you barely moving, the grinding motion of your hips almost non-existent. It was as if your sole focus was to feel one another, to feel the skin of the other after all this time - the concept of cuming being a distant thought. 

His palms rest loosely on your waist, fingers skimming the hem of your baggy tee, the placement only there for your stability. His pretty hazels peered up at you from your slight height advantage, gaze keen as he looks over your features. 

You keep your hands on his face, palms over his cheeks, fingers grazing across his scalp as you hold his head carefully. You, too, kept your attention on your lover, watching those tiny microexpressions play across his face. 

It was as if you were both making sure that this was real, that you weren't imagining it like all those times when you were apart.

But then you notice his countenance change, eyes downcasting, his mere grip on your waist vanishing. The warm spot on your skin growing cold with his absence. 

"What's wrong?" you quietly ask, carefully tilting his face - making him look you in the eye.

He faintly shakes his head, the motion almost delicate. 

You could tell something was on his mind, something gnawing at his thoughts. With Spencer, when something good happened, he was often likely to question it - doubt if he even deserved it. And with him being home after all that time locked away, you knew those prior feelings would resurface, only worse this time around. All you could do was comfort him in the now, hoping that the little bits of love and care and affection you give him would bring him back sooner.

"Please let me be there for you," you murmur, gaze honing in on him. "Let me help."

He frowns softly —a sad smile— the corners of his lips tilting downwards as he brings his hands to the initial spot on your waist. His palms resting firmly over the slight indentation. "I will."

Your thumb glides over the apple of his cheek, pad lovingly swiping over him. "I'm happy you're home," you whisper between the close distance, tucking a messy, unkempt curl behind his ear. "I've missed you."

He presses a kiss to your lips, eyes darting over you. "I've missed you," he utters, voice soft.

You slowly wind over him, cunt dragging over his dick in no particular rhythm. "I'm glad you're back."

[azlrse]

➳ 10 years later (a sol brugmansia x gn!spouse!reader drabble)

cw: yandere themes, mentions of murder & injuries (in the past), themes of obsession and possessiveness, mc and sol had a kid together (consensually & can be depicted as biological/adopted), ooc!sol (writing him for the first time), domestic au, overall fluff w/ a bit of angst

a/n: there's only a few fics of sol from tkatb vn and im a bit disappointed ngl so imma contribute (and planning on writting for tkatb hehe). but pls note that this game is for adults (18+) only and respect the creator's wishes in terms of playing the game (minors stay away plss)

"papa.." a small voice snapped the thoughts of sol as he stared into the painting he created a decade ago; a painting whom he considered as a masterpiece, a memorabilia and serves as a core memory of his entire life. sol's head turned downward and saw his own daughter raising her hands indicating that she wants to get some upsies. (e/c) colored eyes stared at his reddish ones, now soften as he picks up the little girl from the ground. "yes, munchkin?" sol replied to hazel, her little fingers pointing at the figure next to her father.

his head turned to see what, or whom rather, his little girl is pointing towards. "who's the person next to you?" he stared your portrait next to him, dressed in an all white attire while holding a bouquet of forget-me-nots and a brugmansia flower is seen on the top of your head as a gleaming smile is shown on the portrait.

the same portrait he painted all those years ago.

he looks at hazel, an awestruck smile is seen on his face. "that's your mama/dada. they're looking majestic and radiant, aren't they?" the little girl nodded in return, jumping within his arms as if to express on what her father is saying is true all along. "mama/dada is indeed radiant! like a shooting star passing through the sky!" sol let out a soft chuckle at his daughter's answer.

that remind of sol about someone, where are you anyway?

just as he is about to ask hazel on where you are, the door opened revealing his precious spouse, carrying loads of paper bags from the trip to the grocery store. hazel quickly jumped off from her father and quickly clinged into your leg. "mama/dada, you're home!!" she squeaked and giggled as you continuously walked into the kitchen whole carrying what you've bought an hour ago. "hazel, watch it or you might hit your head on the ground." you said out of concern, placing the bags on the counter quickly and carried your daughter into your arm, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"no kisses for me?" sol teasingly asked while giving you a pouty face. "of course, you deserve one too, dear." putting down hazel on the ground, you quickly leaned in and kissed him on the lips and felt a pair of hands on your waist, pulling you closer towards his black tank top. hazel let's out a gag, trying to separate the both of you from your declaration of love from one another. "that's disgusting!" hazel exclaimed, pulling her father off of you. "I want more kisses mama/dada!!" you laughed from the commotion that took place in front of you.

"one day, you'll be just like this with someone you truly love, zel." you spoke, still clinging into your husband's arm. "don't wanna, that's disgusting." hazel replied, pouting as her arms crossed in between her chest. her father shrugged and proceeded to place a kiss on your cheek. "who knows," sol said, staring directly at you. "you may find someone whom you considered as a soulmate, like your mama/dada here."

your eyes widen a bit from being flustered, slapping his arm lightly. "oh hush you, you never failed to make me like this even after 10 years of marriage." a laugh emitted from the both of you as hazel continuously pouted from her parents answer. the sound of laughter faded away from his ears and only what's left is the sound of ringing. from the inner depths of sol's mind, he will never forget how far he can go for him to obtain this domestic life.

all the bloodshed..

his possessiveness..

the smell of iron and the familiar grip of a sharp object..

obsession and greed to keep (m/c) all to himself..

and all thanks to that, he obtained the family he always wanted, a family that is far more different than his. no abuse, no bruises or harm is present within his little family. just you, his precious pumpkin and his little munchkin.

he hopes that you'll never know the truth on what happened to crowe. who knows? maybe he went on another country to pursue his master's or doctorate? or perhaps also having a family of his own and awaiting for his message to meet his children.

or is it??

final a/n: named the daughter 'hazel' since it's associated with autumn and pumpkins (the endearment sol referring to the player), couldn't picked a better name i apologize :'>>

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites. Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[starregulus]

all i do is think about when the 7 were contemplating whether or not it was worth it to go save Nico while he was STARVING in a JAR after he went through Tartarus ALONE

he was in that jar holding on to dear life hoping and praying that they'd make it in time. hoping that if he just lasted a little longer maybe he'd get to see hazel again and they were AHHHHHBDJHD. I can't even

Like imagine how Hazel was feeling seeing them debating the worth of her BROTHERS LIFE.

Imagine if Nico saw that happening in his dreams (idk if you can dream in a death trance but..)

THAT'S MY BABY. MY SON. He didn't deserve that. I wanna give him a kiss on the forhead for every time he experienced trauma, whether he was there for it or not

[eviesaurusrex]

Escaping | Azriel x High Fae

summary: Azriel carries his mate off to a much-needed picnic, away from her duties at the Court of Dreams.

word counter: 3.2k

warnings: none, pure fluff, Az being a simp for his woman, mentions of reader being an empath/reader having empathic abilities, Az’s pet names being always accompanied by “my” (bc he needs to remind himself constantly that she’s indeed his), reader is part of the Night Court ever since

author’s note: This is also my first time writing anything for ACOTAR, so please be gentle with me, but I just had to, okay? Az deserves every ounce of happiness I can offer him. Also: This is my first time writing and uploding anything in a minute, so this is definitely not perfect

Dividers are made by @enchanthings and @sweetmelodygraphics <3

He had planned this little escape for weeks now, always trying to find the perfect moment to whisk his mate away between duties and obligations, only to grant her and himself a much-needed break from quite literally everything. His shadows had been restless ever since, just as their wielder, the growing stress and frustration traveling along their strong mating bond only a figment of an indication of how she grew to feel every morning she awoke to tend to the court and their cause to protect and free Prythian in the War looming on the horizon.

And today had been finally the perfect day—due to Rhys’ helping hand after he had seen the growing and building anxiety of his brother.

“Is it not strange how adamant Rhys has acted earlier? I think it’s weird. Do you think I should go and check up on him later? Maybe trying to ease his mind? I think I should.” Her sweet, melodic voice filled the warm air, and a rare chuckle escaped the spymaster at her fast-working mind. Gently, he took the blanket out of her arms, placing it over the arm that already carried the basket filled with all her favorites, and tenderly, his free arm found its home around her waist, pulling her closer to his side.

A perfect fit. It was as if the Mother and the Cauldron had molded them to fit just as perfectly as two puzzle pieces. Made for one another… He still couldn’t grasp how his lifelong wish had been answered and granted after so many centuries.

Azriel’s head dipped to press a lingering kiss to her temple, his nose slightly buried in her soft strands, the soothing scent overpowering the scents wafting around them. “Will you scold me if I tell you how I asked him to give us at least today to ourselves?” His voice was soft, tender, a loving and humored edge to it. Hazel eyes began to twinkle as she looked up at him, meeting his gaze, not surprised in the slightest at his revelation, and the teasing twinkle in her eyes in return made his lips twitch into a smile. “Did you now?” She teased and nudged his side, tickling Az because she knew of every existing weak spot—the only person aside from Cassian and Rhys. Her growing smile made him feel light, free, and still, it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever achieved in his long life; felt as if his heart might explode any second when she turned and stretched slightly to press a kiss to his jawline. Reaching further wasn’t possible with the towering male walking beside her. “Thank you, my love.” Only a whisper, but loud enough to travel to his ears, accompanied by the warm and fuzzy feeling sent down the bond by her.

Another pull with the arm around her waist put her even closer—if that was even possible—and Azriel couldn’t hold back the urge within him to kiss her soft lips he had already kissed so often ever since they had accepted their mating bond. Still, it wasn’t often enough, in his opinion. Giving in, the shadowsinger stopped their path in the hidden passageway towards the lush green rolling hills along the coast of Velaris and slowly bent his body, letting their noses run alongside one another. “Nothing to thank me for, my darling,” he hummed, lips almost already touching in the softest of kisses, and he felt her fingers run through the short hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her and letting their lips melt into one. Neither he nor she could tell where the kiss started and where it ended, where his lips began and hers ended.

The low rumble of her stomach put a pause to their antics, and Az hummed once again before entwining their fingers and continued on their path. “Let’s find a place where we can ease that growl, my darling.”

Wildflowers of all kinds surrounded the place they had finally settled on—the glittering ocean right next to them, the rolling green hills as far as sight could reach, and Velaris in the close distance, beautiful as it had always been. Az had made himself comfortable on the blanket, the picnic basket opened right next to him, his body propped up on his forearms, and his eyes followed his mate as she strolled through the flowers. He could see her fingertips gracing the soft petals that stretched their colorful heads towards the sun, his shadows slowly, almost lazily winding around her wrist and fingers, always keeping her company, making sure she was alright. Not that Azriel minded their own ways, but sometimes he suspected they might abandon him entirely for her if they had the chance—and the shadowsinger couldn’t blame them either. He would do the same if it meant being at her side at all times.

“Eat at least a bite,” he now called over to her as she picked the first flower. She only spared a quick glance at him, but her radiant smile couldn’t fool him, nor could it hide the roll of her eyes. “Yes, yes. Only a minute, love.” Azriel himself rolled his eyes now, but the tuck at his lips was too strong to withstand it. Not when they were alone, not when she was the cause of that rare smile sneaking its way onto his face.

So, he watched her while already eating some of the fresh berries, patiently waiting, eyes moving when she moved toward the next flower in full bloom, bending down to pick her, placing the delicate thing in the soft embrace of her arm he knew wouldn’t dare crush her new possession. She wasn’t violent or cruel to beings who couldn’t defend themselves, who didn’t possess a single malicious thought in their entire body. And even for those who might commit evil deeds, she still held compassion if necessary. By the Cauldron, she even had accepted him from the very beginning of their friendship all those centuries ago when Rhys had brought her into the Court of Dreams, right after the War had been won.

A sigh left him when she finally strolled toward him in her pretty flowy dress, hair flowing in the warm breeze, her smile growing the closer she got to him. “What am I supposed to do with you, hm?” Az had pushed himself from his arms into a sitting position, legs slightly crossed, an arm resting on his muscular thigh, while the other reached for her, enveloping her fingers as she sank onto the blanket and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. The sound of his wings stretching and rustling behind him accompanied her adorable chuckle, and he almost melted at the sight of her shining eyes when she pressed his scarred palm against her cheek, her lips leaving a warm mark on it, letting him forget about the pain of the past in an instant.

She had that power over him.

“Az, you had more than four centuries to get used to my antics.” Grinning, her lips pressed another set of kisses to his palm before letting his hand sink onto her knee, where it immediately started to wander and found its place on her thigh, squeezing it tenderly. “I should know by now, you mean?” A nod followed his question, grin still prominent on her lips, but he felt her concentration slip toward the many flowers she had sprayed over the blanket in front of her, and her soft and delicate fingers had already started to weave some of them together. “Perhaps even a lifetime isn’t long enough,” he dared to hum and tease, moving closer toward her side and holding a strawberry in front of her lips. The tip of Azriel’s nose nudged her temple, and she took a bite, sighing in satisfaction. “Perhaps.” The sweet berry muffled her words, and without thinking or even considering he was prepared for it, the woman scooted closer and leaned backward, pressing her back against her mate’s strong chest—because he had been ready. He was always ready and always there if she needed or craved anything.

Even though the bond had taken its sweet time before it had finally snapped into place, they had been close from the beginning, a mutual feeling of closeness and understanding the root and foundation of their slowly blooming friendship. And over the decades and centuries, they had started to learn to know one another. Now, with the bond in its rightful place, it all was merely heightened; no longer a want to fulfill anything they wished for, but an urging need. So Az just knew without thinking when she needed his arms wrapped tightly around her body, his chest pressing against her back like a steadfast wall in a sea of uncertainty and fear.

His chin rested on her right shoulder, the strong and powerful wings softly tucked behind his back, granting the sunlight to kiss and warm her skin while she weaved flower after flower in a steadily growing circle.

“When all of this is over…” The soft voice of his mate traveled alongside the warm breeze. “When all is over, I’d like to leave for a while. Just… the two of us. Somewhere enjoying life itself, forgetting about War, bloodshed, and intrigues. Healing and growing,” she continued even softer, reminding him once again of her calm and peaceful nature, and Azriel felt how she longed for all those things after everything that had happened in the past fifty years. He didn’t dare to think about all that had happened Under the Mountain when she had been forced to live there, didn’t try to recollect everything she had shared with him in those days after Rhys and she had finally returned to Velaris.

All that was important was the exploding sensation of relief since she had followed Rhys over the threshold in the House of Wind, stepping out of the shadow of his broad back and came running right to him. That immaculate sensation had been his companion since that day.

Burrowing his face into the warm crook of her neck, the spymaster released a deep breath. “Whatever you wish, my darling,” he whispered against her skin, making her giggle and squirm in his grasp. “Az! Stop it, or my flower crown will be ruined!” He hid the growing smirk against her skin and nipped at one of her weak spots, making it tickle once more. “They always turn out beautiful.” Azriel could practically feel the playful roll of her eyes at his words, and dutifully, he picked the next flower for her to weave into the growing circle before a small lemon tart found its way to her lips, reminding his mate that they indeed had something else in mind when they had left the House of Wind earlier.

The deep, soft sighing after the first bite of the masterfully baked tart warmed his heart, and Azriel didn’t object in the slightest when the small cake was eaten within a heartbeat, her sweet tooth demanding even more after weeks of relinquishment because they had all been so busy with the preparations for the meeting with Prythian’s High Lords.

“Another one?” He whispered quietly as the shadows now surrounded their legs, resting like they did. “Do we have one of these tiny strawberry cakes we had for Starfall?” Immediately, the memory of the last festivities occupied his mind as he looked for the mentioned dessert and presented it to her like an offering to the gods in his open, scarred palm. “My Lady.” She chuckled at that and abandoned the almost finished flower crown with a gentle “Thank you, my Lord,” only to take the delicate cake and took a savoring bite out of it.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you looked at Starfall? More radiant as the stars…” Az’s voice trailed off into the distance, pictures of that night clouding his mind once again. As she turned her head to look at him with that one smile entirely reserved for his eyes, he pulled back and let her kiss his lips in a heart-wrenchingly soft kiss. “You told me that countless times, my love. Especially when you see the dress hanging in the armoire.” She grinned at that, making him almost blush. “But do I need to remind you how handsome and dashing you looked that night? All those ladies turning and twisting their heads as soon as you walked through the room…” Even though she knew that no one could take her mate, the bitter feeling of jealousy boiled in her blood for just a second before it vanished at the glowing and warm, but also shadowy feeling of their bond, reminding her once again that they were bound for the rest of their existence.

“No need to be jealous, my darling. There was never anyone but you, and there will never be anyone but you.”

His index finger under her chin moved her face upward to face him, skin touching skin and lips brushing over even softer lips. “I know,” she whispered against Azriel, and for a moment, she leaned her forehead against the strong line of his jaw, feeling him pressing a tender kiss on her hairline.

A rumble in the far-off distance let them look up at last, and both watched the building and rolling clouds over the sea, knowing that rain was a mere thought away. But still, they took their time.

Az continued to feed them both, watching her tirelessly weaving flower after flower into the crown, humming a tune they had danced to countless times by now and savoring the warmth radiating off his body. “Another one for Elain?” Azriel dared to ask as she seemed to be done. All the flowers she had gathered were woven into a beautiful, intricate pattern, and none were wasted. His mate had started to bring Elain flowers and plants in all their forms, especially ones only growing in their lands and not behind the wall, explaining their nature, natural habitats, uses, and sometimes hidden beauty. She was so soft and gentle with the young female that Azriel had to ask himself—more often than not, if he was honest—if she would be like this to their children if they ever were allowed that sort of happiness.

He let her sit up and turn onto her knees, holding the crown in her delicate fingers. She shook her head, an unsure smile now surfacing on her lips, as she softly placed it on top of his dark hair. “I never made one for you, my love.” He was stunned, not daring to move nor touch the petals now resting on his head. “You don’t have to keep it, of course. If you don’t like it, I can just bring it to Elain, and we’ll forget about it. It’s silly anywa-” He stopped her right then and there by pulling her close and kissing her fiercely, only holding himself back from roaring down their bond and scaring the living daylights out of her. He took great pride in the fact how breathless his mate was when Az finally ended the kiss, how gleaming her eyes were when she looked at him, how the blush that had crept to her cheeks made them glow, how her fingers gripped the fabric over his chest to steady herself. “Don’t you dare take it,” he growled and kissed her once more, shorter this time, less desperate, and still tickled those delicious sounds out of her body he still kept reveling in, even after all this time.

The first drop falling from the heavens made them part, and while she started to collect their things to pack them safely into the basket and fold the picnic blanket, Azriel spread his wings to protect his mate from the mighty raindrops. When they were ready to winnow to the barriers of the House of Wind, the summer downpour had already picked up its intensity and soaked the two from head to toe. However, their laughter still lingered over their sacred space of Velaris even after they winnowed away.

Feyre’s brows creased in worry as she looked out the many windows in the palace atop the mountain, overlooking Velaris during the downpour that had been foreseen. The heavy drops splattered against the glass, making it difficult to discern any shape moving in the distance. She knew the rain wouldn’t harm them, but the thunderstorm rolling over the hills induced an anxiety within her that she could barely contain.

“Feyre, darling?”

Rhys’ voice let her spin away from the windows, facing her mate who had stood from his desk he had worked on for the past couple of hours, and walked closer toward her, worry furrowing his forehead. “What is wrong?” He wrapped his strong arms around her body, and the High Lady sighed deeply as she sank into the embrace. “Nothing, I…” The first roaring thunder let her pause for a moment. “Az and YN haven’t returned yet.” Violet eyes gazed out of the window, brows slightly furrowed in concentration as he tried to make out the shapes in the gloomy light of the early evening.

Then, a smile spread across his handsome face, and Feyre turned to see what had happened. “They are now. Come, my love,” the High Lord coaxed his mate toward the door to meet the pair down the hall to greet them. She followed him without hesitation, needing to see for herself that both her friends returned without harm, and had to know if they enjoyed their afternoon, needing all the raunchy details YN would spill over a glass of faery wine and a warm fire.

They only made it atop the stairwell leading down into the hall that housed the balcony primarily used to enter the House of Wind, and the pair watched a dripping YN pulling a not-less-dripping Azriel inside, a laugh dancing on her lips.

The Illyrian shook the rain off his shoulders and wings, eyes entirely focused on the brightly smiling High Fae before him. Without a thought, he let the basket drop to the floor, not sparing a single second for its whereabouts after because his entire being narrowed down to the bond beating in his chest, demanding intimacy, closeness, with the female he desired and loved more than life itself. A shriek escaped YN between laughter as Az playfully pounced on her, wrapping her in his strong arms and lifting her off the ground in one smooth motion, moaning deep in his throat at the first taste of her lips drenched in rain droplets.

As he carried her down the hall toward their shared bedchambers in long, purposeful strides, flower crown still proudly atop his head, YN laughed: “Az, the basket!” The pair above the stairs could only hear him say, “It can wait until I’m drunk and delirious on you,” before a door closed, and Feyre finally allowed the giggle to escape her she had held onto for so long.

Rhys shook his head with a humored grin, pulling the female next to him closer to his chest. “My spymaster wearing a flower crown? I won’t ever let him forget it,” he chuckled deeply, amusement and happiness dancing across his face, especially as Feyre hit his chest in warning. “Don’t you dare tease him about it!” The male grinned at that, pulling her face toward him, and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “I can’t make such promises, Feyre darling unless you are interested in a little deal with your beloved mate.”

Now, it was her turn to let a laugh freely echo through the halls.

Thank you everyone for reading! As usual: I'd love to read your thoughts and comments, perhaps you have an idea for a future Azriel - or any ACOTAR character - fanfiction you'd want me to write. Also, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! <3

[elusivedew]

golden.

✧ synopsis ⤐ spencer is gentle, even in the darkest hours of the night.

✧ contains ⤐ several references to sex, this is all about aftercare. post-prison spence except I haven't gotten that far yet so don't mind any inaccuracies, I just thought he deserves something nice ♡ w.c ~ 1.3k

Your muscles ache. It's a low pleasant hum reverberating through your body, similar to the feeling after a long strenuous day, but nowhere as exhausting. Your heart is still pounding in your chest like an uncontrolled feeling, but it feels so full.

Spencer, the culprit in this story, shifts beside you to pull the covers over your exposed body. He’s gentle and tentative, like he always is, especially after nights like this. It’s like he's apologizing for defiling you the way he does, always concerned about going too far or making you feel uncomfortable. He looks down at you with familiar, warm hazel eyes, and you wonder how he could ever do any of those things.

He brings you closer, an arm coming around your waist to pull you against him. You move to lay on his bare shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact soothing all your stimulated neurons. While you’re slowly coming back to earth, still slightly starry-eyed, you listen to the sound of his heartbeats. You count them, memorize them, get to know him through the organ behind the flesh. It’s so serene that you almost doze off, but Spencer’s raspy voice shakes you awake. 

“Angel.”

You hum, unmoving and consumed by the visions in your head. 

He rubs your shoulder, willing you back to the present. You move to look up at him, and his smile is so sweet that you almost can’t believe he’s the same guy from a few minutes ago. But, then again, no one who knows Spencer would expect him to be so skilled at stealing your breath right out of your body. 

That’s something that no one else will experience with him now that you’re here. You smile, feeling proud and territorial. 

“What are you smiling about?” He leans down and kisses you, you want to ask for more but you’re spent. 

“Nothing,” you whisper against his lips, “Just the fact that you're all mine.” 

He grins, wide and boyish, and you wish his face would glow like that all the time. His flushed face and messed up hair, both being your handiwork, make your heart feel like it's about to burst right out of your chest. Despite just getting your fill of him, you wish you could eat him up right now. 

“Can’t argue with that”, his eyes twinkle playfully, “we still have to get you cleaned up before you can go to bed.” 

You grunt, “god, not again.”

“I’m not letting you go to sleep like that, and you know you’re risking a UTI if you don’t pee before you knock out. It’s essential for a pleasant experience that you wash up properly after, do you know how much bodily fluid you’re covered in right now?” 

You frown, when he says it like that, it sounds really gross, but it’s what you get for being with a germaphobe.

“I hate this part.”

He tucks your hair behind your ear and plants a kiss on your forehead that smoothes your frown down, “I know you do. C’mon, I’ll help you up.” 

Getting up proves to be the easy part, getting up on your legs however, it wasn't as steady as you hoped it would be. When you're forced to sit down on the bed again because the pain pierces through your pelvis so suddenly it feels like getting electrocuted, Spencer looks concerned. 

“Cramps again? I really have to slow down next time.” 

You groan, “no, Spence, I've told you before it’s fine. Just means we had a little too much fun, and it's not a bad thing.” 

He nods hesitantly, “are you sure?” 

“Yeah I am, just,” you reach your arms out, “carry me?” 

His concern is quickly replaced by a bright smile, “gladly.”

Within a few minutes, you’re both out of the bedroom and in the bathtub. Spencer hates the bathtub. He hates sitting down to take a bath and always voices out his concerns about how counterproductive it is to soak in contaminated water. Knowing that he likes to remind you of that everytime you’re taking a bath, Spencer must be dead tired to just sit his naked butt down in the tub, but you’re not complaining. 

Because he’s the sweetest boy on earth, he helps you wash up first, getting all the spots you can’t reach yourself easily. When he’s lazily washing your hair, you decide it’s the perfect moment to start babbling about nonsense, sleep deprivation and bliss mixing together to jumble up all your coherent thoughts. 

“My favorite thing about you being away is when you come back.” 

“So there’s other good things about me being gone?” The smile is so clear in his voice. 

You turn around to scoff at him, “Spence, terrible time to be a smartass.” 

He grins, “it’s never a terrible time to be a smartass.”

It’s quiet for the rest of the bath, you let him clean you up because you can barely see anymore. It’s three in the morning and he came home around midnight. You were already tired by then, but you missed him too much to not take the chance to immediately take him to bed— it’s hard to resist your boyfriend when his hair is growing out again and he hasn’t shaved in 2 weeks.

When the bath is done, he dries you off and helps you get dressed. You’re distracted by his bare chest the whole time, watching the flexion of his arms when he puts a shirt over your head. Then you sit on the bed, observing as he gets dressed. After nearly three hours of touching him in every possible way, his body is still so mesmerizing to you. Nearly three years of being together and countless incidents of unholy experiences, and you still feel like you’re seeing him for the first time. 

“Are you done observing?”

You’re broken out of your lust-filled thoughts by the sound of his voice. Looking up at his face, you're met by a crooked smile that makes you slightly breathless. He walks over to the edge of the bed where you’re sitting, and you welcome him with open arms. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You grin, arms tightly secured around his waist. He runs his fingers through your hair, “you’ve never been a very good liar.” 

Your final step getting ready for bed is letting him braid your hair. You always ask him to do it for you because he’s magical with his hands, his braid always coming out perfectly in a way you could never manage. You’ve taught him a lot about how to care for your hair, and as he tentatively and gently crosses the strand to draw up his perfect braid, you can’t help but think about how good of a father he would be if you ever had a little girl. 

When all of that's done, there's nothing coming between you and the bed anymore. You curl up under the covers as he slips in beside you. You're both tired, from the long day and the long night, but the sense of bliss that comes over you is possibly the most satisfied you've ever been. 

You look at him, reaching out to trace the outline of his stubble. He leans into your touch eagerly while you admire him some more, feeling every small detail over his skin. You know he needs the tenderness just as much as you do, especially when he's had long days at work. You know all the monsters he sees at his job secretly haunt him, and you know that he feels hopeful every time he's in your arms— because the world doesn't have to end every time he has to confront cruelty, and there’s love and adoration out there that almost overpowers the poisonous hate.

You reach for his hands, kissing the calluses on his fingertips. You know holding his gun comes with heavy responsibility, a responsibility that’s made him so much tougher than he was when he first started. When you’re done planting a kiss on every fingertip, you kiss his lips one more time, because you love him and you want him to know it. He smiles into the kiss and you’re sure he does. 

The gold in his eyes is the last thing you see before falling asleep. 

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #6

6. A/B/O Heats or Ruts // Sadism-Masochism // Anonymous Sex (Old Man Logan x Reader)

You see him at the bar most nights that you’re there, nursing a whiskey and keeping to himself. On the occasion he deigns to lift his gaze from his drink you always feel it on you, hot and heavy and oh so aware of every movement you make.

You like it. Your skin lights up beneath him, a little static dancing over you where his eyes settle. But every time you turn back to your fiancé and his dull friends and try to be interested in a conversation they have no intention of including you in. 

Why do you suffer through it? Well, things have been this way for so long now that you don’t know what they’d look like were they to change. Grit your jaw and bear it, it’s only the rest of your life, after all.

The man closes the gap the first time you enter the establishment alone. You swig down your beer, bitter and nasty but the cheapest thing they sell, grimacing at each hoppy mouthful. After a long moment he pulls back the stool in order to settle in next to you at the bar and you’re intensely aware of the size of him. 

“No boyfriend tonight?” he rumbles, broad fingers raising his glass to his lips.

“Fiancé,” you correct half-heartedly. Is he still your fiancé? It was a pretty vicious fight you got in not two hours ago, and right now the ring on your finger feels like a shackle. He picks up on your unease and chuckles, and oh, it is a lovely and rich sound.

“Mmm, sure.”

The two of you lapse back into silence, nursing your drinks. 

“We got into an argument,” you confess when you feel like more words are necessary. The stranger cocks a brow.

“He seems like an asshole.”

“What would you know?” you ask, desperate to defend for some reason. Pride, perhaps. He finally fixes you with a look, sunken hazel eyes boring into your soul. You are transfixed.

“Seen the way he treats you when you’re out together. Like you’re an annoyance. A second thought. Doesn’t deserve you, sweetheart.”

When his warm hand moves to rest on your thigh you don’t make any effort to shake it free. You let it stay there, possessive. You tap your nails on the pocked bar and consider his words.

The stranger moves in, closing the stale air between the two of you. His breath is warm on the shell of your ear as he speaks, gravelly velvet.

“Does he even make you come, honey?”

You should throw your drink in his face and slap him. Instead you feel your cheeks get warm.

“No,” you confess, a whisper. The stranger looks quietly smug at knowing this before you could even voice it. He swallows down the last of his liquor before standing, holding the hand that was on your thigh out to you as an invitation.

“Let me take care of you.”

You eye your beer, decide not to finish it, and take his hand.

“Can I get your name?”

“Maybe if you like what I do to you,” he states and your cunt floods.

He leads you out to a limo in the empty parking lot, sliding the key inside the door and holding it open for you. You cock your head to the side, silently asking a question.

“The driver,” he chuckles. Fuck. Yeah, okay, after hearing that laugh, he can do whatever he damn well likes to you. You’re going to fuck this limo driver in the backseat and he’s going to make you forget your fiancé’s goddamn name. 

The moment you enter into the limo he’s upon you. The door slams behind him as he holds your head in his hands, bringing your mouth to his for a rough kiss, claiming you as his. You let him as his beard scratches you. His tongue swipes against your own, hot and tasting of rich liquor, and his hands go for your jeans. You buck up into his touch and let him strip you without complaint, let him explore every inch of your skin he unveils. His hands are calloused but tender, caressing each new part of you he unveils, and when he touches between your legs? Oh, heaven. Heaven. 

Your clothes thrown across the backseat and him still fully in his suit he fucks you with his fingers, one hand pistoning in and out of you, the other rubbing rough circles on your clit. Your orgasm hits you with such force that it’s like a freight train - your head thrown back and eyes blurry with tears and stars as you squirt up the length of his thick forearm. Another one of those delicious chuckles as he licks his fingers clean.

“Did you know you could do that, baby?”

You shake your head, desperate for a repeat of it. The stranger doesn’t leave you hanging. He wrestles with his fly just enough to free his cock, hard and red and dropping with need for you. The size of it is something to behold but you don’t get a chance to adjust before he’s lining himself up and slowly pushing inside. Each inch is a gorgeous stretch that takes your breath away, his hand stroking your hair as he talks you through it.

“That’s it, sweetheart. There we go. You’re being so fucking sweet for me, hm? Letting me fuck you in the back of my limo like this… you’re dirtier than anyone’s ever imagined…”

When he reaches his lips to yours you can taste the orgasm he kissed off of his own fingers. You moan into his mouth as he starts to move, the glorious length of him the pinpoint of your entire universe. Pulling out to the tip, slamming back home, whispering strings of filthy praise in your ear. All you can do is hang on and trust him to take care of you, the way he has once already.

It isn’t long before that sweet pressure builds up again. His cockhead brushes the inside of your walls and you come all over his cock, drenching the front of his suit in a way he looks pleased by. His grip tightens as he finishes inside of you, spilling inside of you hot and thick. You feel utterly claimed. You have been ruined for anyone else. 

He helps you sit up and redress, offering you an unopened bottle of water. A moment of silence passes as the smell of sex settles into the leather seats.

“I’ll drive you home…”

Your grip on his forearm is vice-like.

“Take me back to yours,” you beg. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know his name, you don’t need to. He’s taken better care of you in one night than your fiancé has in years. 

He softens at the pleading in your voice, those hazel eyes tender. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”

[lex-the-flex]

Misty Mornings

Origins!Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: On this particular morning, Logan is in need of a shave, and you’re more than happy to take on the job.

Word Count: 650

Warning(s): None, PURE FLUFF! (Cause Logan deserves it). A tiny amount of nervousness.

A/N: If I had a man that would let me do this, I’d be his forever. (Basically a MEGA GREEN FLAG) Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

The low coo of multiple mourning doves echo across the woods lingering beyond your backyard. The strong scent of the early morning lake balances itself against the soft and subtle fog hovering over the calm water as the morning sun threatens to break the cool air. Pulling your knitted blanket closer, a calm breeze welcomes the ambiance and colors of Autumn to the secluded place you call home. 

Being fully engrossed in your novel, you don’t hear Logan walking down the dock. Turning the page, the creaking sound of the wooden deck brings you back to reality.

“Baby?” He asks. 

“Hi, Lo.” You respond. 

Closing your book, you stand up to greet Logan with a warm hug. Extending on your toes, he briefly presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“What are you doing out here? You’ll catch a cold.” Logan replies. 

“It’s not snowing yet, babe. Trust me.” You smile, before reaching down to pick up your book. 

Offering his hand to you, you close your palm around Logan’s fingers as he leads you back towards the elegant two storied cabin. Folding your blanket, you throw it on the back of an armchair along with your book. 

Following Logan into the kitchen, you hop up on the granite countertop, and he turns on the coffee pot. Gazing up at Logan, you hum to yourself at the sight before you. 

“What is it?” He asks with a sly grin. 

“Nothin’. I’m just not used to you ever being in the kitchen. It’s still strange to me.” You explain. 

“Oh, yeah? And how long have we been together?” Logan questions, walking to you. 

Placing both of his hands on either side of your hips, you tilt your head backwards and wrap your arms around his large shoulders. Smiling, the two of you just gaze at each other lovingly for a moment, silently enjoying the peace. 

Running your fingers through Logan’s thick dark hair, he lightly chuckles when you move onto his slightly overgrown beard. 

“Hmm, you need to shave.” You firmly state, tickling his scruff. 

“Is that a threat, darlin’?” He teases. 

“Maybe… Will you let me trim your beard this time? Please?” You ask. 

Determined to get an answer, Logan finally agrees, ultimately losing the never-ending battle. 

Leaving you in the kitchen, Logan shortly returns with his shaving kit. Placing it on the counter next to you, he unzips the small leather pouch and takes out a pair of scissors. Handing them to you, Logan carefully returns his hands to your hips, eager to see what you’ll do. Softly cutting off pieces of your lover’s beard, you suddenly become focused on the task at hand, unaware of Logan’s loving and intrigued stare. 

HIs light hazel eyes glance deeply along the edges of your face, studying the details of your focused state. Unconsciously wrapping your legs around Logan’s waist, he slowly pulls you closer, wanting to be more intimate. Your heart begins to pound in your chest, nearing the end of your task. 

“I”m almost done, babe.” You whisper, flicking away the remnants of his beard. 

Finishing up, you set down the scissors and wipe Logan’s freshly trimmed jawline. 

“There you go, you’re all nice and clean.” You reply. 

“Mmm, thank you, Y/N. It feels so much better already. You should imagine it.” Logan teases. 

Lowering his lips to the nape of your neck, Logan playfully kisses the soft skin of your neck. Allowing you to feel the fresh scruff tickle you, a smile creeps on his lips whilst a gentle moan escapes your mouth. 

“Okay, cowboy… le–” You try, but can’t. 

Unable to push Logan away, you find yourself craving his touch even more. Tangling your fingers in his thick hair, his mouth searches for yours. Kissing you passionately, your fingers grip Logan’s strong muscles whilst he lifts you from the counter and carries you deeper into the house. 

wolverine masterlist ~

@dreamliners

@chronicallybubbly

@dontfeedthebigbadwolf

@the-resident-vampire

@ovaryacted

@misssarcasm15

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@quillycrow

@till-hes-90

@the-moth-archives

@stilllivindue2spite

@wolviesgal

@mostly-marvel-musings

[silverskyeline]

'my man' 18+ old man logan x gn!reader

summary: he's irresistible in that work suit of his, so much so that you decide to treat him with it on. (1.3k) tags: blowjob, gender neutral reader, reader is a bit dom, pathetic old man logan, established relationship, for the 'suit' prompt for logan promptober.

'logan isn't one to beg, at least not in words. but in that look? in the way his hazel stare flickers from his cock back up to your lips? he may as well be on his knees pleading for you.'

your fingers splay across his chest, embracing the white fabric of his shirt above his skin. you can feel him beneath it, his muscles firm, only slightly giving way to your practiced touch. his suit jacket has fallen open, revealing himself to you, and that naturally cinched waist you love so much.

his tie sits there, untouched, begging for attention, begging to be pulled.

logan sees that look in your eye, he's not completely oblivious to the way that kinky mind of yours works. sometimes he wonders if you prefer him clothed, just so you can peel it off piece by piece later.

"you're so handsome. . ." you coo, slowly wrapping your hand around his tie, causing it to tighten, "miss you while you're at work."

he rests his head back, letting a sigh slip from his lips in response as his tired eyes lock on you. his hands rest on your hips, enjoying the weight of you above him on the sofa, nestled against him - right where you belong. logan doesn't speak, but the small squeeze he gives to your hips tells you that he missed you too.

"can i. . ." you begin, unable to hide the smirk that starts to curl on your lips, "take care of you?" your fingers trail up and down the buttons of his shirt teasingly, almost innocently.

oh. he knows what that means.

his eyes close for a moment and he inhales deeply, opening his eyes on the exhale. the silence speaks volumes. logan nods, the slow rise and fall of his chest picking up a little, breathing deeply through his nose as he anticipates your touch, anticipates the feel of your pretty little lips wrapped around his begging cock.

you often greet him like this after a long shift, knowing that he has to be on his absolute best behaviour with certain clients in that limo of his. he was so well-behaved, such a good man, how could you not treat him as he deserves when he returns to you?

"thank you. . ." you whisper, leaning down to press soft kisses along his jaw, his salt and pepper beard tickling your skin. smiling against him, you watch as a grin of his own appears - you suppress a giggle at the rare sight.

he lets out a low grumble at the back of his throat as you loosen his tie and begin to unbutton his shirt, taking time on each button. with every new patch of skin exposed to you, you immediately litter it with gentle kisses. kissing over his scars, over his flesh that craves your attention in any capacity you're willing to give.

"been gone all day," you whisper against his skin, pulling his shirt open completely as you nuzzle against his fuzzy tummy, "bet you were thinking about this, huh baby?"

one of his hands on your hips trails up your back to cup the back of your head, his thick digits trailing through your hair. he couldn't lie, his eyes would flick to the clock in the limo as it ticked closer and closer to the end of his shift, knowing you'd welcome him home in the best way.

"shhh," you punctuate your shush with a kiss to his lower tummy as he opens his mouth to reply, moving to unbutton his suit pants, "you don't need to answer me, i can tell. you were already hard when you walked through the front door."

his lips part, a sigh, eyes fluttering closed. how did a dirty old man like him, who'd seen and committed such violence, end up with an angel like you? he thanks his lucky stars every day, his tired old bones begging to be back in your arms the moment he leaves every morning.

you nuzzle your face against the outline of him in his boxers, feeling him tense and his breathing hitch. "that's where you want me, hm?" you smile, peeling back his underwear just enough for him to spring free.

you sit up a little to enjoy the fruits of your labour, and fuck. . . the sight of him laying there, sprawled out, suit shirt open, chest heaving, cheeks lightly flushed with his hardened length just asking to be touched - he's like heaven, a mess, spread out and ready for you.

his expression, the way his lips are lightly parted, brows furrowed in a slightly flustered manner all while those tired eyes stay trained on you. . . you just want to eat him up, breakfast, lunch and dinner all between those thick thighs of his.

logan isn't one to beg, at least not in words. but in that look? in the way his hazel stare flickers from his cock back up to your lips? he may as well be on his knees pleading for you.

and who are you to deny him?

taking his length in your hand, you lean down and lick a stripe along him. he hisses, gripping the back of your hair as his other hand grips the sofa. he's sensitive in his old age, any little flick of your tongue or tug of your hand enough to send sparks throughout his entire body.

you hum against him, licking a few more times before circling his leaking tip with your tongue. he swears he sees stars, but before he can react you're taking him inside your mouth with practiced ease. he gasps at the hot, wet feeling of your lips around him, plunging deep inside as you take him all slowly. words are caught in his throat, whispers of praise dying on his tongue as the feel of him inside your mouth erases all thoughts.

he can't help it, he grabs your hair tightly, his thick fingers taking hold as he pushes you down further. logan knows you can take it, knows you're a good little thing for him, the way your mouth starts watering the minute he opens that door. like you spend your entire day hungry for him, only satisfied when his cock is pushed deep inside your mouth.

his head tilts back, moaning softly into the cool air of the living-room. he's not even fully undressed, shifting in his work suit, feeling your tongue swirl across each vein on his length.

"always take me so- f. . . fuckin'. . . ah, fuck- so fuckin' good, don't you?" logan stutters, desperately trying to regain some sort of dominance over the situation. but you and him both know who's in charge for the time being.

your eyes lock on his as you bob on him, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. he wasn't going to last long like this, a dirty old man, half undressed with his fingers in your hair, coaxing you further.

"gonna cum," he whines, hand balling into a fist on the pillows of the sofa as he feels himself buck up into you. it's a warning, but a useless one, you'll drink him up gladly any time. doubling your efforts, you blow him a little faster, eyes watering at how deep you're taking him. he's practically fucking your throat. any other person might struggle, but you're used to his length, used to taking it like a champ, all for your man.

soon he's spurting white hot cum down your throat, eyes locked on yours as he groans roughly, thrusting into your wet, inviting mouth as he empties himself. you moan in response, swallowing back as much as you can while powering through, moving backwards and forth on his thick, impressive length.

the aftershocks jolt through him, dick twitching, body shaking, thighs clenching as you continue. he's sensitive, so very sensitive, pulling you back by your hair until you slide off him with a wet pop.

his other hand comes down, wiping drool from around your mouth with his thumb, cleaning you up. you pant, looking up at him from between his thighs and he returns your gaze with the most loving look he can muster in his exhausted state.

smiling, you nuzzle against his hand, "how 'bout we get you properly undressed, and i run you a hot bath?"

logan smiles, the skin around his eyes crinkling with affection, "only if you're joinin' me," he grumbles cheekily.

"that was a given, baby." you smirk as you stand, taking his hand in yours to lead him towards the bathroom.