#i love the first gif hes so extra
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tai-lung · 1 year ago
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KUNG FU PANDA (2008)
I know you're not the Dragon Warrior. None of you. I heard how he fell out of the sky on a ball of fire... that he's a warrior unlike anything the world has ever seen.
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timethehobo · 4 months ago
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Captain Boomerang - Win Poses [1/?]
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aurinkomoukari · 7 months ago
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😳 bro is going HARD jesus christ 🔥
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sollucets · 2 years ago
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favorite characters x favorite color: jaeyoung
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redfurrycat · 1 year ago
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🐓💍🤠The LOTR Proposal🤠💍🐓
Bradley "Don't Think Just Do" Bradshaw buying a ring on his way to Jake Seresin's temporary housing, several days post-mission, (days he spent at Icemav's big house, under the loving care of one Icepops and one injured Mavdad).
After a superb 'mav-style'-mad-running, Bradley arrives at the house, breathless, and says to a confused and sleepy-looking Jake:
"There's good - and some might say VERY good- in this world, and it's worth fighting for."
*gets on one knee and offers Jake the Ring*
"I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you for the rest of our lives, if you let me."
"Marry me, My Precious?"
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Bonus:
"Wow, Bradshaw, did you get me a lotr mood ring?!"
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sysig · 5 months ago
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Wake up somewhere better, maybe (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Damned#Harvey Dent#ZEX#Blood#Ask to tag#Stepping back even further - I'm sure you can understand needing a little extra time on this#For multiple reasons haha#It took such a while to finish the first one and not just on an editing front! Honestly that didn't take very long at all haha#There's a frame somewhere that's bothering me - I ''animated'' that movement frame-by-frame myself so if it's a bit strange it's my eye#At least it's mostly like what I wanted! Mostly like what I saw in my head! The three overlapping and then drawing back to show the depth#It really was such a strong mental image for me - it's amazing how simultaneous things can be despite being described separately#The dog - Harvey - ZEX - all moving at their own pace! A split second can be so expanded like a slow-mo shot ah#It's honestly a very beautiful medium#Hhhh ZEX's death was very affecting to me ;; I so very much wanted him to go out the way he wanted to#Befitting his Admiral status - strong and confident and surrounded by his crew#But by that point he was so tired and ready to rest - it would have been sadder to watch him continue to barely scrape by#Not even killed by his Beauty! Just one good chomp from one big sick dog :'0#The others trying to protect him - they didn't know him just out of whatever empathy they had for their fellow!#Zero was a hero so that kind of character is easy enough haha but even Harvey! Even after ZEX made him uncomfortable with his long looks lol#He was still willing to help in whatever way he was able ;; And it still ended the same#His last word being just ''pain'' hhhwehhh ;;#It is always the saddest-saddest to me to have such an articulate and eloquent witty verbose and silly character reduced to singulars#Something so simple and still so expressive hh </3 ZEX dearest hweh#But loving also means letting go! Death was a release he needed even if it's sad#I'm a real sucker for Meet Me In The Afterlife kind of stories so I may or may not have batted that around as an idea down the line#He has plenty of loved ones that have seen the other side - even from the Institute specifically!!#It's not exactly a happy ending but it's something <3
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skitskatdacat63 · 2 years ago
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2009 Malaysian Grand Prix - Jenson Button(ft. Nick Heidfeld & Timo Glock)
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allmyandroids · 6 months ago
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ratatatastic · 5 months ago
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hiiii didn't get to watch the game today would u happen to know if there were any giffable senko moments? love u mwah <33
unfortunately there weren't too many moments this game but here are the few that i caught
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after the swaggy goal 4 minutes into first sasha heads to the bench and pats senkos leg and senko gives him a good shoulder pat for a good assist and amazing play that lead to the swaggy goal
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bench celly for the erod goal in the second i just love how he has his towel in his hands, throws his hands up in joy, remembers he still has his towel and that it looks dumb and just chucks it behind him as he eagerly awaits to fistbump the boys
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senko tries to make a play in front of the crease halfway into the second period but broberg blocks him, skinner makes the save and kulak fucking football tackles him to the ground
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and we get, whatever this is... so what that tongue do senko *i get pulled by a vaudevillian hook offstage*
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after the third when he tries to make a play with forsy but he gets blocked out by kulak and he checks the flex of his blade after skinner gloves his shot
ofc if it does not go in it must be the stick!
edmonton oilers @ florida panthers game 1 | 6.8.24
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carmen-berzattos · 1 year ago
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#this is a perspective I’ve only seen from people who truly think broadly and sympathetically about life#like he’s literally right I’m sorry and people who aren’t white or cis or straight learn so so SO early that your existence is political#not inherently but because white cishet men have crafted society in a way it’s impossible for it not to be#and ignoring that isn’t going to make you ascend above it god I’m so tired of having to explain that to people#I’m tired of people’s experiences in both places of privilege and place of oppression being used to scapegoat what we all can see#like look at his example!#‘going out for a dance on a Saturday night’ means something different if you’re poor if you’re gay if you’re a racial minority#’walking into a shop’ who owns it how often do you go is it a big box store or a small owned business is it walkable#there’s pOLitiCs in all of that! in ever aspect of your life!#ESPECIALLY if you take your life experiences and turn them into art of any form (via @twentyfour-mp3)
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#hey thanks for these tags#it's why this particular section matters so much to me#also him being Irish is super important here#there's a tendency for colonized nations to be highly aware of the role of art in politics#in no small part because they have experienced first hand how said art was weilded against them#sometimes innocently and sometimes not#with this post exploding past the Hozier fandom#I'm seeing a lot of comments that are borderline vitriolic against this idea#and against my man#all I'll say about it is that our need to continously assert that art is somehow transcendant#and is just for fun is quite transparent#also there is a comment that art is commentary on society and culture but that's not politics#LOL my guy my lady my man my dude#those are topics that are almost entirely political#he literally addresses that here#if it concerns the experience of people then it's political#because we live within a system that enesures that#also an aside; I think this perspective is exactly what makes hozier's love songs have that extra layer to them#that makes them feel different and standout#there's this overlay of awareness of how this functions within a specific set of pre-existing standards for love and its shape#an understanding of power dynamics between genders how they transpire to love#how love is seen from a very cis-het perspective#it's why i always feel uncomfortable separating hozier discography into the political on one side and the yearning love songs on the other#these two are one the same and incredibly linked in my understanding of his work#anyway thanks y'all for engaging with this#but keep the slander to yourself pls#no need ot get nasty to the man or to each other
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anantaru · 2 months ago
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⚝ DAY 1 — SIZE KINK
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kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3
— including. — capitano, wriothesley, zhongli, childe
— warnings. — fem! reader, size kink/size difference, dom/sub dynamics, childe is a lil mean and written like a casual fwb relationship, experienced zhongli
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⚝ — CAPITANO
capitano's teeth catch your lip as his hips inject a chilling coldness into every rut of his cock pressing into you— in other words, they were calculated and controlled rolls of his length basically breaking your body into two pieces.
rolling your eyes back, you catch a glimpse of the heavy armor that has long since been discarded, practically ripped off his body, revealing the full extent of his massive form and muscles shining of sweat.
yet for some reason, there was no warmth in his gaze, never, even now, you see, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his grip on your waist, his look was devoid of any softness.
"i told you to endure it, take it," he commands sternly, his voice a low growl as he pushes into you again, this time making sure he could get an extra inch buried in you.
you flinch and moan at the same time, you're so fucked out of your mind you just want to cum already, but the size of him alone made you gasp and clench— it burned, yes, it felt stimulating, it felt like you're about to encounter an orgasm that could simply make you unable to walk for days.
but the way he handles you— no hesitation, no gentleness, every thrust sharp and vigorous, bursting like the freezing winter cold, as if the first harbinger was testing your limits without truly caring about them.
although somehow, despite his ruthlessness, he knows when to stop.
capitano knows exactly how far to push your body, as if he's memorized every inch of you, every reaction.
"take a big breath for me, yeah? you can take some more," perhaps he could become relentless when pleasuring you, merciless, but never cruel.
he fills you over and over, watching keenly how your pussy drenches him, and fuck, you can feel his eyes watching you, making you nervous— whether it was your hole gripping him, red and puffy begging for your break or your eyes admiring his stomach, he sees it all.
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⚝ — WRIOTHESLEY
without haste, wriothesley wraps his arms around you, indulging in a strong and unyielding love as he presses you against him. right there, you feel it, you notice his breath against your neck— one exhale, the second one coming in shortly— he's hot, shaking, lips curved up in a smile as the gentle praises already began to spill from his lips.
"you"re so amazing, sweetheart, you know that," he groans, his voice a little shaky as you squeeze him into you, deep and gripping him into your cunt, "look at you… taking all of me aah— so easily."
his size was clearly overwhelming you, crushing you in ways you hadn’t thought were even remotely possible— although personally his words make it bearable, pleasurable as he smothers his length against your walls, the swollen flesh squeezing him so tightly— and fuck, the more you took of him the better it felt, the more, the better.
shit, you actually believe you've never been this horny for the duke before.
"you're perfect, so perfect, fuck—" he continues walking you through his clouded praises before one of his hands began tracing the slopes of your trembling body, "so tight, yeah… but handling me like it’s nothing."
he pushes deeper, filling you completely, the creaking of the mattress beneath you both only fueling the desire erupting from your very core as his hands easily guide you, ensure you to take him slowly, little by little.
you can take him, right? that's out of the question, but you find yourself wanting more, wanting to prove yourself to him.
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⚝ — ZHONGLI
zhongli moves with the grace of experience fitting his intimidating size as your walls instantly pulsate around him, the torture of it being so full and burning between your legs, yet at the same time utterly fulfilling and euphoric.
truly, his amber eyes flicker with a quiet intensity, his body towering over you like a domineering shadow that you couldn't possibly get away from— and at this time, your mind turns blurry, entirely clouded by him and his pretty face.
"it'll be fine, you don't have to worry," he murmurs, his voice soft, "i know what you can take, always." no rush, no urgency— just the both of you.
well, his experience surely was obvious in everything he did, every slow thrust and your hole gradually getting used to him again.
how come he's so big but his massive form just fits so perfectly in you, every square of his cock filling you? zhongli wonders if you're actually made for him, however in this moment, he was preparing you for just how roughly he was about to ruin every fucking space of your walls.
his hips shift, fast snaps of his hips bouncing off your flesh, then pushing a little deeper— and the man was groaning into your ear because you see, zhongli loves how you squeeze him, how your legs shake against him and how your pussy made the wet, little sounds with every rock of hips.
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⚝ — CHILDE
"what’s wrong?" even now, as desperate and fucked out as childe made you sound like, he teases you, his voice low as he inches in deeper, making you swallow another ruthless shove of his cock, "hey now, can’t handle it? want me to play with you a lil' more?" his tone was surprisingly light despite him ignoring his own need to cum and cum all over you.
yet the challenge he saw right before him was unmistakably delicious.
the man knew exactly how big he was, how much it affected you, how you always needed him to properly nudge and rub your clit or lap at your tits, suck and pull at your nipples to make the growing stimulation explode— or well, multiply.
yes, it's evident, his teasing antics were making him all the more attractive and you hated it, despised how ajax knew you got off on him being this way.
he gives another fast snap, the sheer stretch of him feeling like it was about to shut down your body as his hands greedily explored your skin. the torture of being so close to your climax, yet not knowing if childe would take it was driving you into madness.
ultimately, his palm settles above your stomach as he digs into it to not only, keep you right where he needed you to be, but also to make it even more pleasurable, until you're practically begging him to fuck the broad daylight out of your skull.
your legs quake, eyes rolled back and your jaw hanging low, "you can take more,” he says, pushing deeper, "more, huh," he grinds faster, fucking you harder— you can, right? you've been suck a good fuck for him tonight, always actually, never failing to gasp into his chest so sweetly and stick to his core, your pussy red and swollen but so so full.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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imaginedisish · 3 months ago
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My Girl (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: Hey guys!! So sorry this took so long. Here is the secret relationship/breeding kink fic. I honestly really like this one...and I hope you guys do too. Was listening to "Juna" by Clairo while writing it, but went with "My Girl" for the title. ENJOY!
Summary: You and Logan have been in a secret relationship for months, but everything comes to a head when a new mutant visits the Institute, and won't leave you alone...Logan shows him, and you, who your man is.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Thigh riding, Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), breeding kink, praise kink, possessive!Logan, jealous!Logan, unspecified/implied!Age Gap, established relationship, creepy!OC who hits on reader and doesn't lay off, minor violence, afab!/fem!reader, fluff/feelings, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it?
Word Count: 5,313 this is why it took so long also, smut right under the cut...
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You remember the first time he fucked you, vividly. 
It was late at night, after a mission. You almost died in his arms. And that was what broke that thing inside him, the burden of time that he carries, that deep-seated pain that made it justifiable to stay away from you. He had held back for so long—had done his all to resist falling for you. He was screwed from the beginning, and he knew that. But he had become so terrified at the thought of losing you that he hadn’t realized it could happen all the same if he stayed away—if he forced himself to remain a friend. 
So, when he fucked you that first time, that first night, he fucked you like it’d be the last—the only time. 
“Goddammit, so fucking perfect,” he mumbled, his lips bruising yours, shoving himself deep inside—as deep as you could take him. “Needed you this whole time. Can’t live without you.”
��Logan,” you whined, his hips snapping against yours. “D-don’t stop, please.” “Never gonna stop, pretty girl,” he promised. “Can’t go back. Can’t be anywhere but here.”
For months now, you’ve been together—but nobody knows. There’s no doubt about commitment—nothing casual about the relationship in the slightest. You start and end every day in Logan’s bed. You’ve talked about running off together, getting married, and settling down. For the first time in his long life, Logan sees a future where he’s happy—genuinely happy. 
The sun peaks through the curtains. You curl yourself into Logan’s chest. His arms are wrapped around your back, holding you tight against him, even in his sleep. You listen to his breathing as the fall breeze creeps through the open window. Everything is calm and quiet in the morning, when everyone is still tucked away in their bedrooms, sound asleep. 
Logan groans, tugging you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Go back to sleep.” His voice is heavy, laden with exhaustion. “Too early.” He kisses the spot just under your ear, and you moan involuntarily, feeling extra sensitive in the haze of the morning. He smiles softly against your neck, and kisses you again, his teeth grazing your skin. You moan louder this time, intertwining your legs with Logan’s. “Love those pretty little noises you make.”
“Feels good,” you murmur, his thigh slotting between your legs, pressing against your core. You can’t help but grind down on his thigh, rocking your hips back and forth. “Need you, Lo,” you beg. 
“You’re gonna ruin me,” Logan husks, his palms warm against your bare skin as he slips underneath your shirt—which is really his. 
He’s slow in the morning, pressing soft kisses on your bare shoulders, letting his touch linger longer than normal. He likes the peace of it all—waking up to each other, smelling you next to him, feeling the other side of his bed warm and full of you. When he fucks you, early like this, he takes his time. 
His fingertips trace the curves of your stomach, falling into your dips, gripping your flesh. Logan breathes you in, his lips softly melting into yours. “Still too early?” You mumble between soft, lazy kisses. 
“Never too early to want you,” Logan husks, dragging his thigh against your core again. “Always need you.” You can feel his erection through his boxers. “Gonna take care of my girl. Gonna make you—”
There’s a knock at the door. “Logan?” It’s Scott’s voice on the other side. He knocks again. “Logan, you in there?”
Logan tries to ignore him, his fingertips dragging down your sides, bumping into the hem of your panties as he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses down the hollow of your throat. You let out a breathy moan as Logan bites down on your pulse point. He smiles under your jaw at the soft sound, content that you can’t hold back. 
“Logan,” you whisper, running your hands up his arms, to his shoulders, your fingertips finding the nape of his neck. “He’s not gonna stop.”
Sure enough, Scott knocks again. “Logan, I know you’re in there,” he calls, banging on the door now. “Wake up. We have some tech guy on his way.” 
Logan groans into your neck. “Why do you need me, Summers?” Logan licks your collarbone teasingly, hiking your t-shirt farther up your body. 
“He’s…a mutant,” Scott explains. “He can speak with machines, computers, code—you name it, he can do it. He’s gonna fix some stuff around the mansion. Charles asked me to make sure you’re awake just in case…” Scott trails off.
Logan finishes Scott’s sentence. “In case everything goes to shit?” 
“I wasn’t going to say that,” Scott huffs, likely shaking his head on the other side of the door. “But yes. In case things don’t go as planned. I’m also looking for—"
But Logan cuts Scott off, saying your name for him. 
“Yeah, I can’t find her. Do you know where she might—”
“On a run,” Logan chimes in, and you suppress your laughter by pressing your face into his chest. “She’ll be back soon.” Logan’s arms wrap around your back, holding you against him. 
“Alright,” Scott says, shuffling, slowly stepping away from the door. “If you see her, let her know what’s going on, okay?”
“Trust me bub,” Logan husks, his fingers digging into your flesh, tickling you. “I’ll make sure she knows.” 
Scott mumbles something unintelligible as he walks down the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he disappears down the stairs. 
Logan’s lips are attached to your neck again, sucking playfully. “Where were we?” He teases, his nails grazing down your back. His palms settle on your ass, squeezing your flesh tightly in his hands. 
You moan, your chest flush with his. “Logan,” you whine. “We need to get up,” you insist, your hands pushing against Logan’s broad shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscular biceps. “Can’t stay in bed anymore.”
Logan grunts, his thigh still nudged between your legs, rocking into your core. You want him, and it’s tempting to let him take you right here, right now. But you can’t. And he knows it. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and pulls you tightly into his chest. “Later,” he promises, his lips finding the shell of your ear. You smile at the thought. There was always a later with Logan.
You snuck out of Logan’s room, unnoticed, as always. It was still early—too early for the ruckus of a morning at the mansion to begin. You got ready for the day and slipped downstairs. You’re still shocked at just how oblivious the rest of the team is. Truly, no one knows about you and Logan. 
You’re in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of coffee, waiting for the day to start. Familiar, heavy footsteps approach, and you smile before you can even see his face. 
“Hi pretty girl,” Logan coos, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your front. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his chest and the strength of his heartbeat. He presses a chaste kiss to the crown of your head and walks over to the coffee pot. 
Scott enters the kitchen as Logan takes his first sip of coffee—one second earlier and he would have seen Logan holding you. “The guy is here,” Scott announces from the doorway. He looks at you and smiles. “Oh! Hey! How was your run?” He asks cheerfully. 
You almost spit out your coffee, remembering what you were actually doing this morning. “Great!” You say, doing your all to hold back your laughter. “Surprisingly relaxing.” Logan snorts and plays it off like he’s sniffling.
Scott smiles, none the wiser, and nods, cocking his head towards the hallway just outside the kitchen. “Come meet the tech guy!” He backs out of the doorway and into the hallway. Logan settles his coffee cup—which reads #1 Professor—next to yours on the counter and gives your waist a quick squeeze as you hop out of the chair. You walk shoulder to shoulder into the foyer. All the signs of your relationship are there—out in the open—and yet, still, no one seems to catch them.
You step into the foyer, and there’s Scott and the Professor by the front door, chatting with a younger man—who’s about your age. The man’s eyes find yours, and he smiles softly. “Hi there!” He calls, waving. “I’m Mark!” He strides away from Scott and the Professor and towards you. “But you can call me Techno.” He smirks and winks, extending his hand out, waiting for you to take it.
Logan grabs his hand instead, gripping it tightly, catching Mark off guard. “Wolverine,” Logan growls. “And you can’t call me Logan,” he adds, gritting his teeth. “So, you turn on computers, bub?” 
Mark grimaces, wrenching his hand from Logan’s grasp. “A little more than that,” he asserts, closing his eyes and bawling his fists. You look up as the lights flicker, and televisions turn on and off. Your cell phone rings in your pocket, and you pull it out. The screen reads: Incoming Call from Mark.
Your lips part. “How did you…” You trail off. 
Mark shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “My powers essentially let me communicate with electricity and tech,” he explains. You can practically hear Logan seething beside you. 
“A technopath,” Charles offers as he rolls over to join the three of you with Scott in tow. 
“Exactly,” Mark says, nodding to Charles. “Makes it easy to put my number into pretty girls’ phones.” Mark winks at you, and you press your lips into a straight line in response. 
You shake your head. “I’m not inter—”
You’re cut off by the sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing. “These,” Logan pauses, lifting his claws to Mark. “Make it real easy to hurt creeps who put their numbers into girls’ phones without asking first, bub.” 
Mark rolls his eyes, and the corners of your lips twitch up. You try to force down your smile, try to slow the rhythm of your heart. You secretly liked when Logan got possessive over you. He was inherently protective, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on just a little. 
“Let’s stay on course,” Charles reprimands, guiding Mark to the hallway to the left with a wave of his hand. “Let me show you some of the machines I’d like you to work on.”
“It would be my pleasure, Professor Xavier,” Mark says harshly, his eyes locked on Logan as he backs away to follow Charles and Scott.
Logan lowers all but his center claw, giving Mark the middle finger as he turns around. “Don’t mind Logan,” Scott says as they disappear into a room, the door shutting behind them.
“Logan,” you whisper, now that everyone is gone. “Don’t worry,” you assure, bringing a hand to his shoulder. 
He turns to look at you. “He’s a fucking creep.”
“It’s going to be fine.”
 It is not going well, or fine.
Mark is something of a nuisance. He’s only been here for an hour, but he has already created multiple excuses to talk to you, to pull you away from whatever task is at hand. 
You’re in the middle of teaching an English class, discussing Mrs. Dalloway with a group of older students. “So, what are we to make of Clarissa and Sally’s relationship?” You ask the students, to no avail. 
This was your hardest class of the day—especially given the fact that you’re not even a decade older than most of the students. You had joined the X-Men in your early 20s, your powers having shown themselves a bit later than in most mutants, and only a few years have passed since then. Convincing the students who have been here their whole lives that you deserve to teach has been nothing short of a challenge. 
So, when Mark butts his head in on your class, annoyance burns through your body. You take a deep breath and swallow down your frustration. 
“Hey!” He chimes, his head poking through the open classroom door. “Mind if I take a look at your computer really quick?”
The class perks up, more focused on you than they were just seconds ago. You fake a smile, nodding and pushing yourself off the front of your desk so that he has space to access the computer. 
He slips behind the desk and smiles widely. “You didn’t have to move,” he remarks. “Would’ve been nice to have you close.”
You want to gag. You turn away from the students, whispering so they can’t hear. “Listen,” you chide, narrowing your eyes. “I am not interested, so could you please—”
“What are you doing in here, asshole?” Logan’s voice echoes against the walls of the classroom. For the first time all year, the class is paying incredibly close attention. “The Professor told you to check the computers in the lab down the hall.” Logan fully enters the room, striding over to Mark, his hands bawled into fists at his sides. “Beat it, bub.”
“Whatever,” Mark mutters, his head down as he exits the classroom. The bell rings, and the class stands, grabbing their things and filing out the door. 
You groan. “Please read the next twenty pages for tomorrow!” You shout over the hubbub and shuffling of students. “I know it’s a challenging novel, but I think you guys can…” The students are gone before you can finish your sentence. “Handle it.” 
Logan smiles sympathetically, closing the distance between you and him. His presence is comforting, warm, everything you’ve ever needed. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Sorry,” he apologizes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Didn’t mean to make your class harder than it is already.”
You take a deep breath, your annoyance fading away. “You helped,” you whisper. “Mark is the one who ruined things,” you insist. “He won’t leave me alone.”
Logan chuckles. “You don’t like him?” He teases. “Don’t like a guy your own age flirting with you?” He’s egging you on, trying to joke, but you can tell part of him is a bit serious. 
You shake your head. “Only like you.” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat and Logan grunts. 
He reluctantly pulls away, the palms of his hands dragging down your arms, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Gotta get to my class,” he husks, his fingers slipping, tugging longingly as he steps to the door. “Meet me after?” He asks, but he already knows the answer. You’ll be outside his classroom door before the bell rings, waiting for him.
You nod, and he smiles, his hands gripping the doorframe like some invisible magnet is pulling him away, and he’d give anything to spend another second with you. He slips down the hallway, and into his classroom. 
You spend the next thirty minutes or so grading papers, waiting for the period to end so that you can walk across the hall to Logan’s class. Another few minutes pass, and you start to collect your things, readying yourself to meet Logan. Your heart thumps in your chest at the thought, even after all the months you’ve spent together. 
You grab your bag and head to the door, closing it behind you and locking up. You cross the hall and stand outside Logan’s door. He’s teaching a younger group of kids—ten to eleven-year-olds. You would trade places with him in a heartbeat if you could. The younger students loved you. There was no question of respect, no doubt of your power. But Logan was given the class as a challenge—Charles wanted to test his patience. 
And, honestly, seeing him with the children did something to you. You loved watching the way he doted on them, carefully explaining material in a way they’d understand. He was an excellent teacher, and one day, you’re sure, he’d make an even better father. You find yourself falling into fantasy: Logan, late at night, a baby—your baby—on his chest. You can see it now—him changing a diaper, teaching the child to walk. Your heart squeezes in your chest, your eyes falling closed as you daydream about the future—your future together. 
You’re so distracted that you don’t hear Mark walk up to you—don’t feel his hand grab your shoulder.
You yelp and jump. “Oh my god,” you mumble, turning around and coming face to face with him. 
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand lingering for far too long on your shoulder. He finally peels away, his arms falling to his sides. He leans against the wall, trying to appear casual and cool. “What are you doing tonight?”
The bell rings before you can think of a polite way to shoo Mark away, and the students exit Logan’s classroom, happily shouting greetings in your direction. You stood outside Logan’s door every day, and the students were always excited to see you.
A few of them run up to hug you, complaining about Logan’s gruffness. When they hear Logan’s footsteps approaching the door, they bolt down the hallway, their laughter booming against the walls. 
Logan steps out into the hall, and he groans audibly when he sees Mark next to you. But Mark ignores Logan, his eyes trained on yours. “Got plans?” He asks again. 
You roll your eyes. “Dude, I’m not interested!” You groan, too irritated to pretend to be nice. Mark smirks and parts his lips, ready to persist like the creep he is.
Logan steps in front of you, his claws already out. “Listen, bub,” he growls, his claws just inches from Mark’s chest. “If you don’t fuck off and stop harassing my girl, we’re gonna have a problem.”
Mark scoffs. “My girl? What are you, her father? You can’t possibly be dating her.”
You can see the anger in Logan’s eyes, the honest rage. “Lo,” you soothe. “Don’t do it.” But you know it’s too late. His decision is already made.
Logan shoves Mark against the wall, his claws pressed against his throat. “I’m her fucking boyfriend, bub,” he grunts as Mark squirms helplessly under his hold. 
“Oh, her boyfriend?” He teases, despite the fear in his eyes. “Aren’t you too old to be a boyfriend?”
Logan shoves him harder into the wall, and Mark yelps pathetically, like a small dog. “More serious than that,” Logan asserts. “Guessing you wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?” 
“Alright, break it up!” Scott’s voice echoes from down the hall. He runs over, Jean and the Professor by his side. Rogue and Gambit follow close behind. But Logan doesn’t budge, the tips of his claws almost digging hard enough to draw blood. 
You bring your hand to Logan’s shoulder. “He isn’t gonna hurt me,” you whisper to Logan. “I could handle him easily if he tried.” You slide your hand to the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him, to relax him. “Nothing’s going to happen, okay?” 
Logan retracts his claws and lets go of Mark, who stutters away from Logan and into the center of the hallway. “I’m getting the fuck out of here!” Mark shouts, but Logan doesn’t react. He simply intertwines his fingers with yours. 
“You okay?” He asks, his thumb brushing circles into the side of your hand. 
You arch a brow. “Are you okay?” You smile and lean into him. 
“So…” Scott trails off, interrupting. “You two are…”
“Together.” You finish his sentence, your eyes still on Logan’s. You can feel the tension in his shoulders stretch down to his hand. He’s rigid, still on edge. You know he needs to get out of here, needs to be alone with you. 
“How long has this been going on?” Scott asks, genuinely caught off guard. “Did anyone know about this?” 
You turn to the team to see heads shaking side to side—save for the Professor. “I did, of course,” Charles confesses. “But I felt it was best left a secret until the two lovebirds decided otherwise.”
Rogue shakes her head, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “I can’t believe you never told me!” 
“Told you what?” Jubilee calls from down the hall, approaching the group. She blows a bubble as she stands next to Rogue, her eyes trailing down to where your and Logan’s hands connect. Her eyes widen and her bubble bursts. “No way!” She cheers, jumping up and down. 
“Settle down,” Charles laughs, extending his hand down the hall to where Mark was just moments ago. “Scott, make sure our technopath friend makes it out the door alive.” Scott nods and heads down the hall. Charles turns to you and Logan. “As for the two of you,” he pauses, winking. “We’ll discuss more at a later point.”
You smile in understanding, and Logan squeezes your hand—another sign it’s time to go. He’s still worked up about Mark; he needs to get this out of his system, needs to relieve all the built-up tension. 
“Got something I need to take care of,” Logan says to the group, tugging you down the hallway.  
He strides through the mansion, practically yanking your arm out of your socket. “Logan,” you whisper, trying to catch his attention. You’ve never seen him like this—rage and jealousy like fire in his eyes, dripping from his pores. He leads you up the stairs and towards his bedroom, and it suddenly dawns on you what exactly he needs to take care of. 
Logan pushes the door open and slams it closed the second you’re inside. His hands are immediately on you, grabbing at the pillowy flesh of your ass, pinning you to the door. His lips find yours—hungry and rough, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching your face. He tastes you, his tongue seeking more of you as it swipes across your lower lip. You open your mouth, inviting him in, your tongue tangling with his.
Logan hoists you up without breaking the kiss, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his erection straining inside his jeans, pressing against your heat. He grinds into you as one hand slips under your top and drags up your back, holding you tightly against him. 
“Need you,” he mumbles against your lips. “Always fucking need you.” He tears you away from the door and towards the bed. He throws you onto the mattress and climbs over you, slowly, like an animal stalking its prey. “Tell me you need me, pretty girl.”
“N-need you,” you stutter as he settles on top of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. 
“I’m not too old for you?” Logan teases, one of his hands loosening its grasp on your arm and trailing down your body, settling on the hem of your shirt. “You don’t wanna be with anyone else?” He hikes up your top, pushing it above your breasts. 
You can feel the heat pooling between your legs. “No,” you whine, arching your back as his fingertips play with the bottom of your bra. “Only wanna be with you,” you breathe as Logan slowly, teasingly pulls your bra up. “Please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “Want you to fuck me.” 
Logan smirks, finally tugging your bra and top over your head and casting them to the floor. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, palming your breasts with his free hand, rolling your nipples under his thumb. 
“Fuck,” you moan as he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 
Logan hums, his fingertips trailing across the valley of your breasts, doing the same on the other side. Logan pinches harder, and you moan louder this time. “That’s it,” he coos, his lips finding your pulse point, sucking roughly. “Don’t be quiet, darlin’,” he demands. You whisper his name, your voice whiny and needy. “Show me how much you need me. Keep making those pretty little noises, baby.”
“Feels good,” you whimper as his hand traces down your stomach, to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in his fist and yanking it up to your waist.
He chuckles darkly. “You wore this just for me?” He asks, his thumb hooking inside the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. “Wanted to make it easier for me to fuck you?”
“Fuck, yes, just for you,” you pant, watching as Logan lifts himself off you, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head. He dexterously unclasps his belt buckle and throws the leather to the floor. He balances on his forearm as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down his thighs along with his boxers. “I’m all yours, Lo,” you promise as he presses his forehead to yours.
Logan’s hand glides down your side, slipping between your legs and finding your folds. You moan as his fingertips prod at your entrance, spreading your slick. “Fuck, all this is for me?” He pinches your clit before swiping through your folds again. “You’re soaked already, princess.” His fingertips brush your clit, tracing achingly slow circles into the bud. 
You rock your hips against Logan’s touch, searching for more friction. “Logan, need you,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I’m yours.”
“All mine?” He whispers, his touch suddenly disappearing. You groan at the loss of contact. “Say it again, pretty girl,” he demands, guiding his cock to your folds. 
“All yours,” you answer, trying to move your hips lower to feel just an inch of him. “Please just—”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slams into you, down to the hilt with one thrust. He throbs against your walls as he works you open, his hips still, his cock splitting you in two. “Fuck,” Logan grunts. “So fucking tight. Perfect little pussy. Wanna stay right here forever. Maybe I won’t even fuck you. Maybe I’ll just make you sit on my cock.”
But you need him to move, need him to take you. “Logan, f-fuck me,” you choke, trying to move your hips. His hand grips your waist, stopping you from sliding up his length. “Please, move,” you plead. 
“So impatient,” he chides, kissing you bruisingly, biting your lips. He finally pulls out and slams back in, bottoming out again. His hand slides down your waist and slips between your legs. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I want?” 
His hand is just above your clit, inches away from where you need him most, waiting for your answer. You nod emphatically. “Yes,” you say with pleading eyes. “Anything. You can do anything just please—oh fuck!” Logan pinches your clit and starts his machinations, swirling around the bud. He pulls out and pumps back in, setting a ruthless pace. 
His hips snap against yours, taking all of you with reckless abandon. His lips swallow your moans, consuming you, drinking you in. Of all the times he’s fucked you, it’s never been quite like this. There’s a hunger in Logan’s eyes that you’ve never seen before, an undying need you’re not sure can be satisfied. Something feels different about this time—more intense, fervent, and feverish. 
Logan thrusts in and out of you, bottoming out with every pump, still stretching you out. His fingertips stroke your clit roughly, your walls already fluttering around him. He curses under his breath, his chest heaving against yours. 
“Look at you,” he groans, fucking into you. “So beautiful like this. Always so beautiful.” You can feel his cock twitching inside you. “Wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”
“I-I already am,” you stammer, his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. “Always gonna be yours.”
“Want more than that,” Logan grunts, his hips rocking, his pace quickening. He’s so deep inside you—hitting exactly where you need him most with every thrust. 
“Whatever you want,” you pant, your chest pressing flush to his. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”
“Yeah?” He growls at the shell of your ear. “You gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me stuff you full of me?”
“Yes, please,” you cry out as he pumps in and out, shoving himself as deep inside as he can possibly fit. You feel so full, so complete. Nothing compares to having Logan this close, to having him be so connected to you. You’re already coming undone underneath him, falling apart. “Want you to stay inside.” And then the words fall from your lips without a second thought. But you mean it, and you want it more than anything…
“Wanna have your baby, Lo.”
Logan groans at your words, his cock throbbing with need. “Fuck, don’t tease me like that, sweetheart.” 
“N-not teasing,” you stammer. “I mean it.”
“Shit,” Logan growls, his skin slapping against yours, your words spurring him on. He’s letting himself go, letting himself plunge deep inside you, fast and hard. “Such a good girl,” he praises, his length dragging against your walls, pushing deeper still. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”
“Yes!” You cry out, the fire burning in your belly spreading up to your spine, coursing through your veins. Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tightly.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you, his hips stuttering. “Want you forever.”
You throw your head back as his fingers swirl around your clit. “You have me Lo, always gonna have me.” Your walls clench down around him, and the tension snaps. Electricity shoots up your spine as your orgasm crashes into you. It’s intense—more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. Pleasure washes over you in waves, heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.
Logan is right behind you, whispering a string of praises as he finishes inside you. “Did so fucking good for me. Always so perfect, beautiful.” His thrusts slow until he’s still inside you, but he doesn’t pull out. “Don’t wanna move, princess,” he husks, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 
“You don’t have to,” you say, your voice hoarse. Logan rolls you onto your side, hoisting your leg up and over his hip, keeping himself deep inside your cunt. You close your eyes, your heartbeat finally steadying, your chest still heaving in time with Logan’s. 
The silence is comfortable, calming. You listen to Logan’s breathing as he runs his hands up and down your back. “You okay?” He asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. 
You hum. “I’m perfect,” you mumble, burying your face into his chest. “Do you really…” You trail off, suddenly nervous to ask the only question on your mind, despite everything that just happened. 
“Yes,” Logan answers immediately. “I meant it. Wanna be a family. Wanna be with you forever.”
You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his back. You can feel his cock growing hard inside you as you move to get more comfortable. “I want that too, Lo,” you sigh. “More than anything.” You smile against him, thinking about your future, thinking about how all this started because some asshole wouldn’t leave you alone. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.
“What’s so funny?” Logan asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice. 
You look up at him. “You’re crazy, you know that?” You joke, your smile widening. “You could’ve hurt that guy.”
Logan’s smile widens too. “Just crazy about you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He flips you onto your back and hovers over you, his cock still deep inside you. “Should’ve kicked his ass.” You bite your lip, waiting for his next move. “You’re my girl,” he groans, sliding out of you slightly. 
“Yours,” you breathe as he thrusts back in. “All yours.”
tags: @cosmiccandydreamer @alsoprettyinpink @alastorssimp @1800-fight-me @iamburdened @chaoticweirdogeek @loganobsessed @seasonofthenerd @witch-lemon @the-occasional-artist1125 @https-murdock @afw5 @wolviesgirl @the-ruler-of-death @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour
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logansdoll · 4 months ago
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professor
the students are excited to have their old biology teacher back, but you can't be that great... right?
CW: fluffy fluff, the events of Last Stand didn't happen, Logan being Logan, reader is a chlorokinetic (controls plants), love at first sight, Logan's down bad off rip
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It was a couple months back when word of your return began buzzing around the mansion.
No one knew where the rumor started, or who started it, but the day wasn't even half over before the entire student body was obsessed.
Whispers muttered during class, lunchtime gossip chains, study group pow-wows.
Many couldn't believe it.
You? Come back?
No way.
Some could've sworn you were supposed to be gone for at least a few more years.
Others thought you weren't supposed to come back at all.
And a small few even believed that your arrival could come as soon as the following month.
But after a week or so of no follow up, eventually, the rumor was put to rest, interest diverted to the next, newest gossip on campus.
...
That is... until the story came out.
Apparently, one of the students—who seemed to have some sort of super-hearing—eavesdropped on a conversation between Scott and Charles, and found out you would, in fact, be returning to the school and your position as the biology teacher.
And that was all the students needed to go absolutely berserk.
It wasn't even a full twenty-four hours later before the first meeting of your welcoming committee was held, the new club already having about twenty-five members.
While they began making preparations and to-do lists for your arrival, another group began going out to your garden on the weekends, trimming the overgrown weeds and planting new flowers in their place, caring for them in the meantime.
Some students even started straightening up your old classroom, cleaning the clouded glass of the greenhouse and redecorating with your favorite blooms.
And, of course, Logan had to return from one of his trips right in the middle of it.
Now, at first, he didn't really give a shit.
But out of curiosity, he asked Rogue what all the commotion was about—especially after some kid ran past him with a trolley full of potting soil—and what he gathered was that you were some professor who left about a year ago to teach abroad.
Apparently, you were nearly every kid's favorite teacher, your fun and interactive lessons, along with your genuinely kind and caring personality, touching the hearts of damn near the entire student body.
Even kids who had never met you before were chipping in, helping out those who needed a little extra manpower.
It was almost unbelievable.
'If this chick doesn't show up, Charles is gonna have a nuclear war on his hands...'
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"Guys!" Kitty shouted, running straight through the front door and into the foyer. "I think her car just pulled up!"
The following stampede could've ranked as a 9.0 on the Richter scale.
It was eight in the morning on a Saturday, and half the kids were still in their pajamas, but they all moved with lightning speed, grabbing their signs and noise-makers before running down the stairs.
A boy with super speed sprinted to the lower level dorms and woke everyone else, while a girl with the ability to stretch hung up a welcome banner over the archway.
"Hurry! She's walking up!" Kitty reported, her head halfway through a window.
Quickly, the students formed a crowd at the door, the teachers slowly descending the stairs to join them.
"Mmm. She's here already?" Jean yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she landed on the final step, hand in hand with Scott.
"Still as punctual as ever," he smiled.
"I'll say," Ororo grinned, crossing her robe over her chest, "She wasn't supposed to show up for another week."
Logan was less amused.
No one should have that much energy on a weekend.
Even still, he quietly settled himself off to the side, leaning up against a wall while the others joined the crowd.
'You wouldn't get this kinda reception if the President was the one coming...'
"Y'know..." Ororo started, seemingly out of nowhere, as she joined him on the wall. "I think you'll like her... she's just your type."
He turned to her, raising a brow, "Is she, now?"
Despite his playful tone, he wasn't entertaining the idea in the slightest.
All that true love-soulmate bullshit didn't exist for men like him.
He was 136, going on 137, and had loved and lost enough times to realize that at the end of the day, he'd outlive her.
So why bother?
His life would be one he forever walked alone—a fact he was slowly coming to terms with.
Or at least he thought he was.
Because as you walked through the threshold before him, flashing a heart-stopping grin, he felt all that shit go flying out his head.
You were absolutely beautiful.
And you'd think after 200 years he'd learn...
"Surprise!" the children cheered, proudly holding up their signs and tossing confetti into the air. "Welcome home!"
You gasped, dropping your bags and covering your mouth in shock as you admired the homemade decorations.
"Kids, you shouldn't have!" you smiled brighter than the sun, letting out a small laugh as they all rushed you for a group hug.
And, of course, you were happy to oblige.
"It's good to see you, (y/n)," Scott greeted, he and Jean walking over.
(y/n).
The name sounded like honey on his tongue.
"Logan," Ororo smirked, elbowing her friend in the rib. "You're drooling."
The man cleared his throat, closing his mouth and averting his eyes so they couldn't embarrass him any further.
"Some of you have gotten so big since we last met!" you cheesed, pulling back to examine each of them. "And I see some new faces, too..."
But, against his will, Logan's gaze trailed back to you, Jean's speech going in one ear and out the other.
And when it landed on your face again, he realized he wasn't the only one staring.
Your soft, (e/c) eyes were trained on him as well, their flicker of curiosity and awe completely contrasting your composed demeanor.
It made him feel hot, being subject to your gaze, and he could feel himself thoughtlessly straightening his posture, making himself appear taller, and slightly larger.
You let out a silent laugh, discreetly bringing a hand to your lips to cover it, but not before letting the man get a peak of your smile once more.
Fuck, that smile.
"Can you two quit eye-fucking? It's gross," Scott groaned, joining the two on the wall.
Logan ignored him, looking toward you with a small smirk.
Something about you gave him a good feeling... like things would be different.
Maybe love could exist for him after all...
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regallibellbright · 1 year ago
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Description: Gif of Inspector Cabanela from Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective leaving the police commissioner’s office. His animations fit the previous post exactly. He does this all the time.
*turns a perfect 180 degrees so that my cutting board-flat ass is facing you* *i walk away with feminine swagger but masculine contempt*
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Overprotective- Jacaerys Velaryon
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A/N: My thoughts lie only on HOTD, and most of those thoughts are on this PRINCE. I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 3.0k Synopsis: Jace's overprotective nature begins to grate on the reader's nerves as the birth of their first child looms closer.
Legend told that when in the womb, Targaryen babies started out as dragons before transforming into human children. It was nothing more than a silly folktale, your Targaryen family had assured you. But waking up in the dark of night, flinging the covers off of your scorching body, you aren't so sure.
Your nights had been spent like this for nearly two months now. If it wasn't the heat that coated your body, clinging sweat to your brow, it was waking up nearly ever hour to relieve yourself.
The child growing in your stomach was truly a Targaryen - passionate and unyielding.
The first four months of your pregnancy had been wonderful. You had none of the sickness that so many face in the early stages of their maternity. Back then you were often tired, but the child slept whenever you did. And to top it all off, Jace was a perfect husband. He brought you water when you needed it, rubbed your feet when they were aching, and then, you had wanted him constantly, and he had been more than happy to oblige.
But things change quickly during pregnancy, you are coming to understand. Jace wakes up next to you now, sitting up immediately.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing," you say, turning to face him. Your bedroom is dark, but even so, you can see the worry in his eyes. "Just too hot."
"Can I do anything for you? Should I call the Maester?"
"No, I'm fine," you say, straining to get out of bed. He supports your back, giving you the extra push to get up. You hate that he has to do this, that he has to push on your sweat drenched back, in order for you to stand.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"To relieve myself."
"You just got up--"
"I know, Jacaerys," you snap, holding your stomach as you leave the room.
Jace had been wonderful those first few months, when you had been in high spirits. But now, you were in pain constantly, which made you irritable, which made any attempt he made to help you irksome.
When you came back into the room, Jace is still up, his head resting on his pillow. He lifts it a little when you come back in, smiling at you gently. The sheets have been changed - another new routine - but one that doesn't bother you so much. It made a world of difference to lay down in a cool, clean bed after waking in a pool of your own sweat.
"All right?" he asks as you lay down beside him.
"Yes."
"Sure?"
"Yes, why?" you ask, tilting your head up to look at him.
"Because you called me Jacaerys," he says, brushing a stray hair off your brow. "You only do that when you're mad at me." You let out a breath of laughter, but immediately feel like the emotion could change into a sob. Jace must see it, too, because he scoots closer, pulling you into his bare arms.
"Hey," he says, kissing your forehead, "You can call me Jacaerys whenever you like."
"I'm not mad at you," you say, turning into him, so your growing stomach presses into his. "There's just this monster inside of me making me go mad." Jace smiles to himself, nodding his head.
"I know."
"I love you," you say, a hand to his cheek. He leans in to kiss you, his lips cool. When you break apart, you realize the windows are wide open, and while you've been sweating all night, he has to be freezing. You start to say something about it, but he cuts you off.
"I'm fine," he says. "I love you. Please just try to get some sleep."
"Get off me, then," you say, pushing him playfully. He smirks, falling back over to his side, taking your share of the blankets, as well. You lay on your back, and can't help the groan of pain at the pressure the position puts on you. Jace immediately reaches for your hand.
"Jacaerys," you say, squeezing his palm once. He laughs.
"Good night, Y/N."
"Goodnight."
At seven months pregnant, the burning has finally stopped, but you feel weaker still. Every movement puts pain on your back, your shoulders, your feet. You and Jace speak a language that is mostly moans and groans, and not the kind that used to be typical for the two of you.
One morning, when Jace is away at Driftmark, Rhaenyra joins you for breakfast. At the sight of your sovereign, you try to stand, which makes Rhaenyra laugh.
"Don't trouble yourself, Y/N," she says, walking towards you. "I remember when I was your size. Took me all morning just to get out of bed." You give her a tight lipped smile, settling back into the comfy position you had arranged for yourself.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
"How are you feeling?" she asks, pouring herself a cup of tea. She motions to you, but you decline with a shake of your head.
"I'm alright."
"Is she kicking?" she asks, nodding to the hand on your belly.
"Only when I'm trying to sleep," you say with a laugh. "You agree with Jace, then? You think it'll be a girl?"
"The way you're carrying, yes, but one never really can tell. What are you hoping for?" she asks.
"For these next months to pass quickly," you say, straining when a nerve pinches in your side. You adjust your position, and find that Rhaenyra is looking at you with a small, understanding smile. "And of course, for a healthy baby."
"Of course."
"I don't know how you've done this so many times," you say. "Does it get any easier?"
"No," she says simply. You sigh, which makes her smile grow. "How has Jace been?" she asks.
"Very protective," you say, smiling. "Maybe too much so. I feel like if I just breathe wrong he's on alert, worried something has happened." A strange expression passes over Rhaenyra's face - equal parts pride and sorrow.
"I'm afraid Jacaerys has seen more than his fair share of pregnancies gone wrong," she says gently.
"I'm sorry, I know," you say, embarrassment passing through you.
"That's not to say that he isn't overbearing," she adds with a smile. "He's much like his father that way."
"Really?"
"He couldn't always be there," she says, "But when he was, he made up for the time apart with his watch over me." You smile at her as the door opens across the room, and Jace enters.
"You're back early," Rhaenyra says, lifting an eyebrow at him. He smells salty when he leans down to kiss you. He smiles at you, then looks to his mother.
"Thought I might join you for breakfast," he says, sitting next to you. "Besides, I was needed here more than at Driftmark." You exchange a look with Rhaenyra.
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asks you.
"Just fine, Jacaerys," you say, patting his cheek. "You didn't need to cut your visit short."
"Well, there is something I need to do here nonetheless."
"What's that?" you ask.
"It seems Syrax has laid another clutch of eggs. Joff and I are going to retrieve them, and the younger boys are going to help us pick one for the babe," he says, a hand on your stomach. You smile at him, at the gentle caress of his hand. You know he comes from a place of love with his attention.
"Do you want to join us?" he asks.
"I doubt I could make it downstairs, much less down to the Dragonpit."
"We could bring them to you," he says.
"No," you say, "Decide with your brothers. Just pick out a good one." He nods to you, leaning in to kiss your temple.
At the end of breakfast, Jace goes off to the Dragonpit, but only at your insistence. He wanted to walk you back to your chambers, but Rhaenyra assured him she was more than up to the task. Once he was out of sight, she laughed to herself.
"I see what you mean," she says.
Jace returns to your room that night with a shiny, white dragon egg.
Jace's lips are soft on yours. At eight months pregnant, finding moments with him is getting harder every day. He lies next to you, a hand on your stomach, the other cradling the back of your head.
"Y/N," he hums, each word spoken onto your lips, "I want you." You make a sound in your throat, both in agreement and in discomfort. It has been too long since the two of you have been intimate.
"I'm huge," you say.
"You're not and I don't care," he says, his mouth moving across your jaw.
"The last time we did this," you breathe, arching into him when he nips at your earlobe, "We had to stop because you worried you'd hurt the baby."
"I promise I'll relax this time," he says.
"How could you even get to me?" you ask with a laugh. Jace smiles at you as his hand moves from your stomach to your hip, turning you onto your side easily. He presses up behind you, kissing along your neck.
You sigh, relaxing into him. His hand pulls up the skirt of your nightgown, exposing your legs to the cool night air. It has been so long that you know you're ready for him immediately.
"Just tell me if I'm hurting you," he says. You groan, putting a hand to his face to stop him from kissing you more. "Y/N."
"Jace." You scoot away from him, turning slowly to face him.
"I didn't mean anything by it," he says with a sigh.
"How many times have you fucked me in that same position?" you ask. Jace frowns, frustration evident on his face. "Have you ever hurt me?"
"No, but things are different," he says. "What's the harm in asking if you feel okay?"
"It doesn't make me feel desirable," you say, looking up at the ceiling, stupid, frustrating tears forming in your eyes again. Jace sighs and moves to your side, propping himself up on an elbow so you have to look at him.
"Y/N," he says gently. "Of course you are desirable. You are still the most beautiful, incredible woman I know. And it's because you are so incredible that I want to make sure that I don't do anything that puts you in more pain than I know you are already in."
"I promise I will tell you if I am hurting, okay? You don't have to coddle me."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," you say, hand on his cheek to bring his lips to yours. "I'm the bitch for complaining about her kind husband." He laughs and kisses your palm.
"You're not a bitch," he says. You kiss him again. "Now please roll onto your side and let me fuck you." You laugh, doing as he says.
"Of course, My Prince."
Jace is at Dragonstone Castle when you go into labor. He has been anxious for the last month, knowing that any day the baby could arrive. He intended to postpone this meeting with the great houses, but you assured him that the babe would not come today. The only thing that kept him to his promise was the fact that Vermax could bring him back to the Red Keep quickly.
When Joffrey bursts into the room, Jace is immediately on his feet, already fearing the worst.
"What is it?" he asks.
"Y/N has gone into labor."
Jace barely spares a glance at the lords around the table. He urges Joffrey along. His brother had the foresight to request that Vermax be readied for when they arrived upon the shore.
The ride is quick, as he knew it would be, but he still urges Vermax along, wanting and needing to be close to you as soon as he can.
When he gets to the Red Keep, he runs up to your chambers, intending to throw them open and run to your side. Instead, he finds that they are locked. He can hear soft discussion, encouragements, but the loudest sound coming through the door is your screaming.
Joffrey followed him to the door and carefully peels him away. "She's alright," he insists. Jace won't be able to agree until he can see you himself.
Together, they sit outside your door for the next three hours. Joffrey doesn't say much, but when your screaming gets louder, or there seems to be a rise in urgency to the voices inside, he puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.
It seems like ages have passed when the doors finally open.
He doesn't wait to hear what the Maester has to say. He rushes into the room, his eyes going immediately to your bed. Midwives quickly take away bloodied sheets, and when they clear, he sees you. You are drenched in sweat, your hair matted all around you, and he's not sure he's ever seen you look more beautiful.
"Y/N," he says, as if he's looking upon the gods themselves. You look up at him, your face breaking into a smile. He rushes to your side.
"Are you okay?" he asks, taking your face in his hands.
"I'm okay," you say, laying a hand over his. He laughs. It's a result of the built up tension from the hallway, and he can't stop himself. He laughs as he kisses you, over and over. You laugh, too, and he tastes the salt of your tears on your lips.
"What is it?" he asks, quickly studying your face.
"Don't you want to meet him?" you ask.
"Him?" Jace's face falls in awe.
"Him," you say. You look towards one of the midwives and they bring over the smallest bundle Jace has ever seen. He sinks onto the bed beside you as the babe is placed in his arms.
"Hello," he says quietly. You lean onto his shoulder, looking down at your son with a smile on your face.
"Isn't he beautiful?" you ask, your voice a whisper.
"Yes," he says, his heart still thundering from the surprise. "What have you called him?" he asks.
"I assumed we'd discuss that together," you say, "But I was thinking Lucerys, if that'd be alright." Jace has tears of his own in his eyes. He bites back his smile, unable to put into words what the name means to him, what you mean to him. He nods his head.
"Does that sound good to you, Lucerys?" you ask, your finger touching the blanket over the baby's stomach. He starts to move around, crying out just a little. Like you've done it a million times before, you take Lucerys into your arms and shush him gently.
Jace kisses your temple repeatedly, until you laugh. You turn towards him and kiss him fully, passionately.
"I love you so much," he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"I love you, too."
You stay in that position for an hour or so, Jace holding you, and you holding Lucerys. Joffrey is the first to meet the future heir to the throne, and he kisses you on the cheek when he learns his nephew's name.
When his mother enters the room, Jace doesn't stand, wanting to keep you in his arms forever. She is all smiles as she leans over your opposite shoulder. You sit up slowly, and Jace's arm around you helps guide you upright.
"Hello, little one," Rhaenyra says, taking the child into her arms. You sigh happily, watching her interact with him. Jace can't keep from kissing your face a few more times. He doesn't think he has ever been this in love with you.
"And what is the name of our little prince?" Rhaenyra asks, looking between the two of you. Jace looks down at you, but you nod your head to him.
"We've decided to name him Lucerys," he says simply. Rhaenyra's expression changes immediately, her eyes welling up with tears of her own. Holding Lucerys in one arm, she leans down to kiss you both.
"A fine name," she says through tears. "You did well," she says, looking at you. You smile back, tears forming again in your own.
After a few moments in her arms, she hands your son back to you, and departs, letting the two of you get acquainted to your new family. Neither of you say much. You just watch Lucerys with rapt attention, counting his fingers, and touching his soft patch of hair.
"He's so beautiful," you say quietly.
"He is."
"I don't think I'm ever going to let him out of my sight," you say, looking up at Jace with a smile. He smiles back, but notices the exhaustion on your face.
"Maybe you can for a little while," he says, "Just to get some rest."
"Still so overprotective," you say with a smirk.
"I've got two to protect now," he says, "So if you could just once let me take care of you without arguing--" You cut him off with a kiss.
"I'll try," you say. "But don't either of you leave this room."
"I don't think you could kick us out if you wanted to."
Jace stands with his son in his arms, watching as you lay down. The midwives come back in to check on you and Lucerys, before leaving the three of you alone for the time.
"It's okay, Y/N," he says lowly, when you still haven't shut your eyes, your gaze locked on the two of them. "We'll be here."
"Promise?"
"I swear it," he says, giving you an easy smile. He watches you close your eyes, and in a few moments, your breath falls into an easy rhythm, just like Lucerys's.
Jace looks down at his son. He doesn't want to disturb his sleep, but he wants to tell him, here and now, that he'll always be overprotective. So he makes the vow to himself, just like the one he made when he married you. He is always going to protect the people he loves, even if it sometimes drives them mad.
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k-hotchoisan · 1 month ago
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sticky web
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<yunho x fem!reader>
when the Spiderman movie night with Yunho has its sticky complications because you're in a spider suit for him.
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warnings: smut, pwp, suit fetish (kinda), reader is in a skin-tight venom suit, blow jobs, getting your lil suit dirty, unprotected sex, Spiderman movies and chill, Yunho fucking you through the suit, breeding kink
w/c: 2K
a/n: i'm posting this to appease my lovely readers (y'all) while I work thru your wonderful requests and my shitty writer's block )-: pls take this peace offering! <3 you know i love you guys sm 🩷 (also if you're wondering, spidey isn't my fav superhero but Dr Oct is one of my fav villains!!)
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“You're really gonna get him fucked up when he sees you in this”, your friend teases, zipping your body con suit up. “His own girlfriend? Dressing up in a venom suit?”  
You roll your eyes playfully. “It's a reminder that I'll be his little Symbiote.” 
You look over to the mirror, feeling slightly subconscious at how much the suit is just hugging your curves despite how impressively breathable it was. And the reminder that you weren't wearing it out, at least for now, comforted you, mostly because, well, you weren't really wearing anything underneath this body hugging attire.
You had invited Yunho over for a Spiderman movie marathon to spend the Friday night, and the way his eyes lit up when you did? It's the cutest thing ever. You did your best to boost the ambiance too–dying the popcorn with red and blue sugar dyes, making spider web and spider-shaped cookies alongside some crystal candy that fit the theme for that extra crunch.
The doorbell rings, and you jump immediately to answer it when your phone reflects the text of Yunho mentioning that he's reached. 
Unfortunately, you did severely underestimate the effect it had on Yunho, because the moment you opened the door, Yunho definitely got distracted, evident by the reddening of his ears when his gaze rests on your cute little costume. 
You did tell Yunho to come in costume too, and he definitely did–in a red and blue spiderman patterned hoodie and red shorts. 
“What? Don't you like my costume?” You poke for an answer, giving Yunho a full spin, missing the way Yunho swallowing hard, trying not to eye fuck you. 
“You're… definitely dressed for the part”, Yunho manages out, his slender fingers covering his lips and nose, hoping you don't realise that he's growing as red as his hoodie.
He watches the material hugging your body tug and fit you just right, pulling at just the right places corresponding to your movements, and his feels his fingers twitch. 
Yunho turns away, his attention on the assortment of food presented on the table. 
“Red and blue popcorn?” He questions with a raised eyebrow as he settles onto the couch.
“It's just sugar dye”, you assure, sliding next to him, picking up a kernel, pressing it against his lips, your other hand mimicking the same action but to your own lips. Yunho smiles as he chews, the sweetness spreading all over his taste buds. 
“What should we watch first? Should we start all the way from the first Spiderman movie?” You suggest flickering through all the Spiderman movies back to the first. Yunho nods in agreement, stuffing his mouth with a couple more colourful popcorn. Pressing play, you absentmindedly huddle yourself against your partner, not that he minded, and Yunho lets his hands curl around your waist. 
Yunho is engrossed in the first thirty minutes of the movie, periodically munching on the snacks as the flick plays. 
You're leaning lazily against his arm, letting Yunho feed you from time to time, mostly because you didn't want to get your costume dirty. 
He blinks, wondering if he saw wrongly–your nipples poking through the fabric.
You're not wearing a bra underneath or anything?
Yunho shakes the thought off, trying to focus on the movie. Unfortunately his peripherals can't help but betray him, ever so slightly always trailing back to you. 
You look up at him from below, and point to the popcorn. 
“Yu, I want one more”, you request. Of course your boyfriend would feed you another one. When his fingers linger a little too long on your lips, you realise that his eyes aren't on the screen. 
He's staring at you. 
“Someone’s distracted”, you point out with a smirk.
You straddle his lap. 
The movie is paused.
Yunho’s hands are running up your body, and even though it's separated by a layer of fabric, his touches give you goosebumps.
“I can't concentrate when you're looking like this”, he mutters to your lips, and you feel his palm grab a handful of your ass. 
“Then concentrate on this”, you redirect, pulling him into a dizzy kiss–one that's just filled with moans and teasing. The both of you taste sweet, thanks to the popcorn.
 You're rubbing against his erection while he dry fucks you, and you're both not lasting long. 
You climb off him and sink to face his thick erection. Soft sighs as vibrations through the fabric of his shorts make Yunho shiver too. You palm his little problem, and hearing him groan while spreading his legs open is enough to make you clench your thighs. 
Pulling his shorts down, your heartbeat accelerates at his fucking length–precum trickling down his bare cock, veins so thick and prominent.
Your tongue travels up his thick length, and your mind almost go dumb when you feel Yunho’s fingers tug against your scalp. You look up at him through your lashes, visually savouring the way he's getting undone with your lips around his cock, in his favourite costume. Yunho wants you to just choke you on his dick, maybe get his cum dripping down your tits on the tight fabric. 
He only grows bigger in your mouth at the perverted thought and the way your eyes are slowly watering from his dick reaching to the back of your throat? He's not lasting long.
“Shit, that feels so fucking good”, Yunho groans, throwing his head back, pushing your head deeper, enjoying the sick sounds of you choking. Your mind is flooded with how good Yunho feels and fills your mouth, and it’s making you soak through your costume. 
Yunho groans with every squeeze your throat gives him, pushing himself to hit the back of your throat.
“Gonna cum in your tight pretty mouth. You're gonna swallow it all, yeah?”
You nod quickly, trying to keep up the pace of him fucking your mouth. With a strained groan, his cock pulses in your mouth, warm cum seeping through, and it makes your mind so dizzy. 
“Open”, he instructs, and you do, letting some of cum sleep past the corner of your lips and down your throat, then down onto your tits. 
Yunho is getting harder.
Yunho grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, leaving you surprised, and he marches into your bedroom, then drops you onto your bed. 
“Yunho-” you squeal when you feel his fingers press against the soaked fabric hiding your pussy. 
“It's in the way, don't you think?” He asks rhetorically, eyeing the way the damp patch grows bigger when he massages it against your sticky folds, making you bite your lip. Of course you're not wearing any fucking underwear. Yunho should have realised. 
Unfortunately, Yunho doesn't have the patience to take his sweet time to look for the zipper, so he does the more sensible thing–ripping a fucking hole at where your pussy is. 
You blink in shock.
Shit, he really ripped a fucking hole down there. 
You furrow your eyebrows. 
“Yunho! This wasn't cheap!” You pout, closing your legs in protest with much futile effort, considering his arms are keeping them open.
He looks at you with indifference. “Then I'll get you a new one. Promise.”
Yunho grabs your thighs and drags you closer to him. His cum on his dick dribbles onto the suit, and Yunho smears it further, sliding his cock down, pressing it up against your creamy and puffy folds, with almost little to no friction. 
“I was thinking of how far I can ruin this suit anyway.”
He swears he's fucking blessed–his gorgeous partner making such an adorable movie date night of his favourite character, dressing up for the occasion, and letting him fuck her dumb in this cute spider suit? He couldn't ask for more.
Your eyes slowly roll back when you feel Yunho’s cock push into your warm pussy, filling you up almost instantly. You hiss softly at the pressure, feeling your tight walls trying to accommodate him. 
“So warm. Oh, fuck,” Yunho groans, already losing himself in your heat. He’s gotten a little more sensitive but he's gonna make it last as much as he can.
There's something so perverted that Yunho enjoys so much–fucking you fully clothed like this. He realises it gets him off so fast. He watches hungrily–the way your tits bounce under the suit when he thrusts deep into you, and how it's as if he's fucking you through the thin suit. His fingers trail up to your tits, and his thumb brushes against your bare nipples that harden under the fabric, throwing you into an additional layer of pleasure.
“Have I told you that you look fucking delicious in this? The Symbiote suits you so well.” 
It's hard to formulate an answer when your boyfriend is fucking your brains out like this, but you know he doesn't mind the silence and the broken moans–it’s your answer.
A couple more heavy thrusts into you, the wet sounds accompanying your sobs before he instructs you to turn around for him.
You go on fours, and Yunho wastes little time to pin your head down onto the mattress by your neck before he fits in wet dick right into you again.
His free hand wanders across your ass, then he gives it a tight slap, making you squeal and tighten on him.
You're clawing the sheets, the pleasure filling you up and you can't concentrate on anything else other than Yunho’s cock filling in and out of you, hitting your sweet spots over and over again. You've surely soiled the costume to hell, but honestly, at least Yunho was making full use of it. 
“So good”, you mutter, your pussy clamping down on the feeling of Yunho stretching you out with his fingers pressing the sides of your throat. You swear you were drooling.
“Is it?” Another heavy thrust. 
Oh shit, you're not sure how much more you could handle. And it seems that Yunho is in a similar situation–his thrusts are getting heavier and sloppier. His mind is in the gutter now, especially when he's forced to watch your pussy leak sticky cream down your folds and stain your inner thighs, mixed with his cum. 
“Cumming-” you cry, your legs shaking. “So good. Can't think-”
“Make a mess for me, babe”, Yunho chuckles, his palm stroking your ass, grabbing a handful before he fucks himself deep once more.
Your mind melts with your orgasm hitting you in waves, your pussy convulsing uncontrollably on his dick, your moans forming a melody for his ears, and it pushes him far enough to make a mess in you, thick and warm cum filling you up that you’re forced to take. You hear him curse and groan behind you, and you drop your hips onto the bed, his cock popping out of you, completely covered in a glisten of cum, some still seeping out from his cock head.
He tugs your ruined folds open, watching his thick cum leak out of your spent hole, dripping onto your thighs, soaked up by the suit. Yunho takes in the sight of you panting, with probably more than half of the suit soiled with fluids, and your pussy, other than your face, both uncovered and in a complete mess. 
Fuck, he just might get hard again. 
“Yunho, this isn't a good idea–fuck”, you whimper, completely losing yourself to him once more. 
Yunho had washed you up a little after that, and he wouldn't let you take off the suit, at least, not yet. You thought finally, maybe you and him could actually watch a Spiderman movie or two, but when Yunho pulled you onto his lap, you knew that plan was out of the window considering that he got hard again, and had you seated right on his cock. None of you are focusing on the movies. 
“Don't be mad at me, babe. I'm just making sure that I make full use of this movie night you're giving me”.
Another thrust into your spent pussy once more, and your thoughts leave your head. 
He's certain of having you fucked and filled with his sticky web by the end of the first movie, that's for sure.
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