#icons fem

[furtosmaia]

[havannaedits]

Sunflowers icons. (196x215)

[chaoticstrawberryrebel]

The arms 💪🏻

Cosplayer: Quinn

(Ps: she is a minor, and i only post her bc of her ellie cosplay)

[reinbouxsworld]

FEM LEONA U WILL ALWAYS BE A ICON

[greengoblinswifey]

Temple— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— they always say “your body is a temple” and boy is nicholas’ body a temple you love to climb and worship.

warnings— PURE SMUT. fingering, hand job, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, mirror play, spit kink, praise kink, degrading kink, body worship, ass slapping, choking, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink, cum eating, rough sex, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— ovulating and wrote this based on these pictures because he looks so good, ugh, i NEED him. (not prof read)

You were wandering the aisles of your favorite boutique, surrounded by the chatter of other shoppers. Just as you picked up a cute dress, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, expecting a simple text, but what you saw made your breath hitch and your pussy throb.

Nicholas had sent you a picture of himself shirtless, standing in his bathroom with the light cascading down his chiseled abs, his hair slightly damp and tousled and then one with the hat you gifted him on. He looked incredible, his physique had transformed since you first started dating for his new roles, becoming more defined and muscular, and it left you utterly speechless.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as heat pooled in your core. God, he looks good. You remembered when you first met him, he was charming and sweet, and you loved him just as he was then. But this new version of him? It ignited something deep within you. It was as if every sculpted muscle was begging for your attention, and all you could think about was how much you needed him inside you, pounding you.

The dress you were holding suddenly felt heavier as you clutched it tighter, trying to maintain your composure in the middle of the store. Your thighs clenched instinctively, and you could feel the flush creeping up your cheeks. How was it possible for someone to look that good? You found yourself blushing, desperately trying to focus on the price tags in front of you, but your mind was racing with thoughts of him.

You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you tried to keep it casual. “Wow, what are you trying to do to me?” You hit send, your heart racing with anticipation. He was always playful, but this felt different, this felt more personal, more intimate.

As you made your way to the cash register, you could still see him in your mind, his body the definition of perfection. You swiped his card without a second thought, the thrill of using his money adding to your excitement. If only he were here right now. You imagined him behind you, his hands resting on your hips, whispering sweet nothings as you paid.

Your thoughts swirled with desire, longing to feel his warmth against your skin, to wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. His body was a temple, you thought, it was a holy site you craved to explore.

With a final glance at the dress in your hands, you decided to head home, your mind set on what would happen once you got there. You needed him, and you could already envision the fire igniting between you two as soon as you walked through the door.

As you rushed through the front door, adrenaline surged through you. You barely took the time to drop your shopping bags before you heard the unmistakable sound of the shower turning off.

You quietly made your way down the hallway, the steam still lingering in the air, and as you approached the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of him stepping out, droplets of water glistening on his perfectly chiseled body. Nicholas looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light, every curve and contour accentuated.

You leaned against the doorframe, mesmerized, your breath catching in your throat. This was everything you’d imagined and more. He dried himself off with a towel, completely unaware of your presence, and for a moment, you relished the view, every single inch of him was a work of art.

But you were done watching. The heat radiating from your core was too strong to ignore, and all rational thoughts slipped away. Without a second thought, you slipped out of your clothes, leaving yourself bare and vulnerable in the dim light.

The chill of the air contrasted sharply with the heat building inside you, but it only fueled your desire further. You stepped into the bathroom, your heart pounding, and when he finally turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise and hunger.

“Nicholas,” you breathed, your voice thick with need. You stepped closer, the space between you two disappearing as the urgency of the moment enveloped you.

“Hey baby— oh shit.”

His towel dropped to the floor, forgotten, and in that instant, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, raw, exposed, and yearning for each other.

“Oh god, I need you so bad,” you whined, your body pressed against his as you desperately kissed him all over his chest and tipped to meet his cheeks and lips.

Nicholas pulled you close, laughter in his eyes as he felt your warmth enveloping him. “What’s gotten into you, pretty baby?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you felt the heat radiating off his body. “Look at you,” you replied, your voice breathless. “Walking around here looking like this, sending me pictures of you shirtless… God, what do you expect?”

With a mischievous smile, you moved behind him, admiring his tall, muscular frame in the mirror. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt under your touch. He threw his head back in pleasure, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored him.

The atmosphere shifted, the playful banter giving way to something more primal. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body responded to your every caress. His thick, long cock was painfully hard now , and you could sense the need in him building, mirroring your own.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him gently as you both stared into the mirror. The sight was mesmerizing, his face contorting with pleasure, the way he fell apart under your touch, completely lost in the moment.

As you continued, you watched him unravel, utterly captivated by how hot he was, how perfectly he fit into your desires.

“Look at yourself daddy, I’m making you feel so good, you look so fucking sexy,” you panted, speeding up your movements.

You bit your lip as you felt him jump and throb in your hands, everything he did made you feral. Then, with a shudder and a low moan, you felt the warmth spill onto your hand, a testament to the electric connection between you two.

“Open your eyes,” you demanded. They fluttered open and he watched in the mirror as you sucked his cum from off your fingers before lifting them up to his lips making him taste what was left of himself. He hummed in content, the sound going straight to your pussy but you would deal with that problem soon.

“No,” you said, determination lacing your voice as you looked up at him. “I need to give you more. I want to show you just how much I appreciate you.”

Slowly, you sank to your knees, eyes locked onto his as you let your tongue glide over his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. You trailed your tongue down to his abs, worshipping every ridge and contour. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry. “So sexy, Daddy.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the effect you had on him, his body responding to your every move. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his cock again, feeling him harden beneath your touch.

“Look at how big you are,” you praised, your voice dripping with admiration. “So perfect in my hands.” You leaned closer, giving him a teasing lick, savoring the taste of him, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure at how good he tasted. “Mm, you taste amazing daddy.”

With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him fill you completely. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of worshipping him. “You taste so good,” you whispered between breaths, and Nicholas groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You continued, letting his praises wash over you, and as you felt him hold your head down and cum down your throat, it was like fireworks exploded around you. You savored the moment, knowing you had brought him to this point of ecstasy.

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling bold. With your fingers, you gathered the rest of his release from his hard cock and brought it to your mouth. You took it in, savoring the taste, and smeared it and your saliva over his chiseled abs. You couldn’t resist the urge to lick it all off, your body shuddering with each stroke of your tongue.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, y’know that?” he said, watching you with a mix of awe and desire. “I appreciate that, baby. But now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He positioned you in front of him, hoisting one of your feet up onto the counter, giving him a better angle. “Open your mouth,” he commanded softly, and you complied eagerly, watching as he spat into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it happily, feeling the rush of satisfaction.

Nicholas trailed his finger down your body, stopping at your soaking wet pussy. As he slipped a finger inside you, you gasped, your body arching toward him instinctively. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he instructed, his voice thick with lust. “Look how beautiful you are.”

You glanced up, eyes locking with your reflection. The sight of you, flushed and breathless, sent a thrill through you. Nicholas’ finger worked expertly inside you, curling just right, and the pleasure began to build. “That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come apart like this,” he praised, his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you surrender to the waves of ecstasy. “Let me see you feel good.”

With each movement of his fingers, the pleasure surged higher, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. “Daddy,” your moans filling the room as you finally reached your release, trembling under his touch.

“That’s it, I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he cooed, rubbing your clit fast as your body jolted and slowly came down from your high.

Nicholas trailed kisses down your neck and across your shoulders, his lips warm against your skin. “Look in the mirror, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against you. You obeyed, your heart racing as you met your own gaze, feeling every kiss ignite your desire.

With a sudden, playful movement, he bent you over the counter, a sharp smack landing on your ass. “You look so sexy like this,” he teased, watching you wiggle your backside against him. You grinned back at him, biting your lip. “You look like a Greek god,” you shot back, and he smirked, pride flashing in his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” he replied, holding your neck gently but firmly, bringing you back against his chest. You arched into him, feeling his hard cock tease against you as he slipped inside, filling you completely.

He began to pound into you roughly, his grip on your neck ensuring you were locked onto his gaze in the mirror. “Keep those eyes on me,” he commanded, and when you felt the urge to close them, he shook you slightly. “Look at yourself!”

“Daddy, you feel so good,” you gasped, feeling the pleasure building inside you.

“Tell me more,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how fucking hot I am.”

You nodded, breathless, “You’re so hot, so beautiful. I love your body, daddy. I love how you look as you pound into me.”

“Such a dirty slut,” he teased, reveling in the sight of you enjoying every second. He rubbed your clit, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you. “Look at yourself being fucked.”

With a loud moan, you surrendered to the man behind, your release washing over you as you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew.

Nicholas smirked, a glint in his eye. “I’m not done with you yet,” he declared, hoisting you up effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs. He turned you sideways, positioning you perfectly so you could watch him slam into you.

“Worship me,” he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly making you throb.

You felt a surge of excitement course through you, and you nodded, biting your lip as you gazed into his eyes. “You’re everything, Nicholas. So strong, so perfect,” you whispered, your heart racing at the power he held over you, “you’re so fucking beautiful, your body is a work of art.”

With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely. “That’s it, baby. You know how to treat me right,” he growled, his tone playful yet commanding. “Show me how much you want me.”

You leaned forward, kissing him passionately, your hands roaming over his chiseled chest and arms. “I need you,” you breathed between kisses. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough daddy.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you cum again.”

You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Daddy!” you cried out, feeling yourself on the edge once more. “I’m so close!”

“Then let go for me,” he urged, his eyes locked on yours, watching as the ecstasy took over. “Worship your man, baby.”

With one final thrust, you felt the familiar rush of pleasure envelop you as you climaxed, a wave of satisfaction washing over you. “Nicholas!” you cried, and he groaned in response, losing himself in the moment as he held you close, his body trembling with the intensity of it all but still not releasing.

He didn’t let you go. Instead, he laid your body down on the counter just a little, your legs wrapped tightly around him as he pounded into you once more. The world flipped upside down as you caught your reflection in the mirror, his tall frame hovering above you. The sight of him, muscles glistening and face twisted in pleasure, made your head spin.

“Who’s your daddy?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, his hand firm around your neck, exerting just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

“You,” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath. “You look like a god, so so h-handsome.”

The feeling of being so close to him made you dizzy, and his relentless thrusts only intensified the sensation. “I’m gonna fill you up and breed you like a bitch,” he growled, and your body responded to his words, craving more.

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, but the urgency in your tone said everything. “I want it. I want you. I want your cum inside me!”

He smirked, the heat of his breath against your skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. “Since you think I’m so perfect, we’re gonna make the most perfect little babies,” he teased, pounding harder, deeper. You could feel the tension building as he brought you closer to the edge once more.

With a final, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, each pulse of his hot cum sending waves of ecstasy coursing through both of you. You felt him tremble against you as he held your neck tightly, ensuring you were looking at yourselves in the mirror.

As the high faded, exhaustion washed over you. He scooped you up into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder like a baby, ironic, considering what just happened. He brought a towel to clean you up, laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses across your skin.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmured, pride evident in his voice. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so perfect, princess.”

You cuddled into him, tracing circles on his pecs as you kissed his chest, savoring the warmth and safety of his embrace. In that moment, everything felt right, the world outside forgotten as you enjoyed the afterglow of what you had just shared.

[mr-orange505]

[kimjun]

Jason: how do I make a date really romantic?

Dick: be mysterious

Jason: got it!

*later, while on a date with Y/n*

Y/n: where are we going?

Jason: none of your fucking business

[klipkillakai]

is this a safe space?

the crow 2024

[savasavva]

Happy International Women’s Day

[snowvies]

Mr. Badgley

Penn Badgley x Fem!Reader

summary: you can't stop thinking about your married piano teacher, Mr. Badgley. and one day he slides under the instrument to show you how much he's been thinking about you too.

wc: 1k

cw: age gap (reader 19, Penn late thirties), cheating, piano teacher x student, pussy eating, fingering, female masturbation

Sundays are your favorite days, especially ones like this when the clouds hang low with a murky swirl in the sky. You're nineteen, and college is kicking your ass but you promised yourself you wouldn't think about the papers due when you're here, at Mr. Badgley's house.

You found his ad on craigslist, piano lessons..fifty bucks an hour you would've scrolled past it until you saw him, and his family. You felt safer in a random man's house when his wife and newborn baby were in the same room with you. So you started going there, ever since your freshman year.

Your raggedy car rolllsss to stop and you get out to see the lonely house, picked apart to be perfect, not a single thing out of place... except yourself.

His wife answers the door a few minutes after knocking, the cold biting your bare legs as you run in for warmth, completely missing her scowl at your lack of kicking the mat with your dirty boots.

Mr. Badgley offers you a warm smile, hair combed perfectly, sweater ironed and pants straight like every weekend. His eyes always look a little empty when you come. His wife jingles her keys around her finger as she readjusts the baby on her hip

"I'm going out, be done when I'm home" the same line. Every week. You smile her way but she doesn't pay mind to it, leaving you and her husband to play. you turn to Mr. Badgley but he's already walking to the connecting living room of the tiny house, sitting on the worn bench as he slides the fallboard up.

You sit next to him as he wears an excited smile, when he's like this, playing with you, it doesn't seem orchestrated by his wife. Every move he makes is analyzed by her, except this. The only reason he's allowed to do this is because they needed the extra money.

"Let's start where we left off last week, yes?" he asked and you nodded, you inhaled the mixture of musk and old books that surrounded the pianist as he began the background cords. his eyes are on you, they shine as his spine relaxes into the music and you begin your part. fingers dancing over keys as you try to remember the pattern

Your eyes squeezed shut once you messed the keys up. He smiles softly and lets a laugh out of his nose at your reaction

"Like this," his larger palm rests on top of yours as he guides your fingers, you nod and try again.

Soon enough an hour passes and you both rise from the bench and you dig into your purse for the fifty bucks you crumpled into it this morning, but, warm hands slide on top of your shoulder and the older man shakes his head.

"No need" he grins and tries to send you off but you insist, grabbing the money but he pushes you out the door.

"I will not have you pay for something that I enjoy just as much, Y/n, have a lovely week" The door softly shuts and you're left stunned.

.

You roll around your dorm bed, restless as the man's words keep ringing in your head. Why didn't he let you pay?

Maybe you're being dramatic. But it isn't like the Badgleys are set either.

You shut your eyes in a huff, suffocating yourself in the pillow under you as you replay the keys in an attempt to lull you asleep

But it isn't just the keys you're thinking about...

It's how his hand guided yours, it's how he looked at you when it was your part to play, it's his scent, it's his being. It's driving you mad.

You arch your back slowly, fingers sliding down your body until you get to your aching core. slick-filled fingers rubbing yourself at the thought of your teacher's hands touching you, grabbing you, loving you.

You moan into the pillow, legs shaking as you cream around your fingers, the thought of him drives you wild.

So just how will you act the next time you see him?

.

Before you know it, it's Sunday and you're back at the Badgleys, with his wife announcing her departure and the formal greetings of you and your teacher, you're back at that bench, side by side.

He starts the cords, and you follow trying to calm your shaking legs as you think about what fueled you that night. You couldn't even look him in the eyes this session.

His hand softly squeezes your bare thigh and you look back at the man.

"You're completely off" he informs you and you don't think your face could get redder.

"I-I'm so sorry...let's try again" you panic but his thumb rubs loving circles on your flesh.

"You usually think the world ends when you mess up, but you kept playing this time, you're mind is somewhere else Ms. Y/n."

"Sorry Mr. Badgley" you murmur

"Talk to me, get it off your chest so we can get back to playing" he smiles and you nod slowly

"...Why didn't you let me pay last time?" you ask, he stops for a moment as the hand on your thigh now rests on his face as he thinks for a moment.

"I just feel like, something so pleasurable shouldn't be bought," he says above a whisper and you feel your entire face glow, and he must have noticed with how he laughs.

"Not those pleasures, Ms. Y/n" he smiles and you don't think you've ever been so embarrassed. But when his laughter stops, his eyes swirl softly into something darker, in that moment you feel exposed to every thought as he eyes you.

He stands, hands finding your shoulders

"Keep playing"

You take a shaky breath as your thighs begin to shake once more, fingers finding the keys as you start the song

"Good," he whispers, his scents overwhelming you now as you feel almost dizzy while playing, you barely notice how he slips under the piano.

"Mr. Badgley, what are you doing?" you gasp as his dark brown eyes gaze up at you

"Keep.playing" he says sternly, and with a swallow, you keep going

He kisses your knees and you feel yourself sticking to your panties as he spreads them apart.

He has a wife. He has a kid. What are you doing?

"You're doing great" he huffs, kissing your thighs, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as his fingers dance up to your panties.

He pulls them down slowly, your wetness sticking to the fabric before they are lost in his pockets

Your bare pussy is in front of your teacher's face as he rubs up and down your thighs taking a shaky breath in

You slam the keys as his tongue licks up your pussy, he moans into you before forcing you to scoot closer into his face, his hands wrapping around your ass as he slurps and moans at your cunt.

"Mr.- fuck" you cry, hands climbing to try and stop your moans as your hips buck up to hump his face

"You taste so so good" he groans, making out with your pussy as he sucks at your clit just to tongue fuck your hole

Hot tears flow down your face as he stares up at you, watching you come undone for him.

You shake around him, orgasm approaching closer with every lick, he sucks on your slit before adding a long finger to your hole. You throw your head back as he fingers you, flicking his tongue relentlessly as his finger curls inside you.

You feel him whine and moan against your pussy, and when you look down you see him gripping and grabbing at his hard-on as he eats you out. You cry as that sends you over and you cum around his finger

You're panting as he curls his fingers a few more times before shoving it into his mouth and licking you clean, you're shaking and wide-eyed as hair sticks to your face and he crawls out from under the piano

Right, weren't you two supposed to be playing right now? Isn't his wife about to be home and he's sucking his fingers because they still taste like you?

He helps you off the bench and you stare into the stained cushion but he turns your chin to him before kissing you deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue before breaking it off with a simple

"My wife is on her way...see you in our next session Ms. Y/n"

And you can't wait for next Sunday.

an: lmk how obvious it is idk anything about pianos. This is based on a dream I had last night 😵‍💫🖤 I hope you liked it <333

[naturesapphic]

Pressure

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, strap-on, daddy!billie, tongue sucking, choking, cussing

A/n: @bilswildflower said she wanted someone to write it so I thought I would make a little something hehe

Billie had you against the wall pounding into you with no mercy in her veins. You were in one of the rooms backstage on the Stephen Colbert show and Billie had already went on, but will soon be performing one of her songs called “lunch” live. She would be going on in ten minutes and here she was fucking your brains out.

“F-fuck daddy!” You moaned out as Billie had your legs wrapped around her waist and your hands clawing at her clothed back. Her face was in your neck leaving love bites behind as she used one of her hands that was holding you up and trails it up your body. She lifted her face out of your neck and gripped your throat in her ring covered hand and kissed you deeply.

You both moaned in each others mouths and Billie starting shoving her tongue down your throat. You whimpered as her tongue explored your mouth and removed her hand from your throat to trail down to your stomach and apply pressure to see where the strap is. She smirked against your lips, breaking the kiss “mmm…right there…let’s see if I can go deeper how’s that mamas?” Billie whispered against your ear and you felt your eyes roll in the back of your head at her tone.

You whimpered out a yes and Billie gave you a smile and leaned down to kiss you again. She used her strength to put one of your legs over her shoulder and started pounding into you more at this new found angle and you moaned loudly. Hearing the moans and noises you make because of her makes Billie go absolutely feral. You kept moaning against her mouth and Billie takes that at another invitation to push her tongue in.

She swirls all in your mouth and finds your tongue and starts sucking on it, leaving trails of spit coming down the side of y’all’s mouths. You felt the strap on go deeper and deeper and Billie put her hands on your stomach against and pressed down back on it and smirked. “That’s more like it. Are you gonna come for daddy sweet girl?” She asked and you nodded, pressing your sweaty forehead against hers. Her thrusts started to become faster and harder making your legs shake, as you let out one final guttural moan before you came all over her.

She smiled and slowly pulled out of you, your cum leaking out of your pussy. Billie licks her plump lips at the state you are in and picks you up in her arms and sits you on the couch. She goes into the bathroom and gets a warm rag and starts cleaning you up as you sat on the couch, panting. “You did so good for me babygirl. So good.” She praised you and you gave her a tired smile as she leans down to kiss you softly. Someone knocks on the door telling Billie she’s about to go on and she looks at you “stay here and get some rest baby because im no where near done with you.” She rasped out and gave you a wink before helping you put your underwear and pants back on.

She then gives you her blazer to cover up with while you take your little nap. Billie walks to the door before spinning around and looking at you with a loving expression “I love you mamas.” She said sweetly and you felt your heart burst at the sincerity in her voice. “I love you more bils.” You say and she gives you a wink before she walks out the door. You smiled to yourself before covering up with her blazer. You nuzzle it up to your nose since it’s smells like her and fall into a deep sleep.

A/n: hehe I hope y’all enjoy and I hope @bilswildflower this is what you wanted! Remember my requests are still open for Melanie Martinez, billie eilish, and my other characters I write for. Remember to stay hydrated and that I love you! And this fic is also for @billiesbabygirl

Tag list: @mxqdii

[webbluvrsugar]

Spencer finally gets back from prison, first thing he does is go and see shy!reader.

cw: tiny angst with fluff, fools in love.

You didn’t know Spencer was out. He didn’t tell you, — which is weird considering you thought you were finally making progress when he started sending you letters — the team didn’t tell you, not even Garcia, you only knew he was out when he came to your house and knocked on your door. Two knocks. It was familiar, only he knocked that way, but it could be a miss understanding, at least that’s what could’ve been if he wasn’t standing right in front of you when you opened the door.

You thought you were hallucinating, fair for an FBI agent, but you weren’t, he was standing right in front of you, face still roughed up, brows slightly furrowing when he saw you.

“I know I didn’t — tell… I was coming, or that I was even out, and I’m sorry.” His voice is low, no longer as hushed as it was when you went to visit him, you feel like you can’t breathe for a single moment because… he really is here.

You stay silent for a while, his eyes roam over you, it’s late at night, you’re wearing a fluffy oversized sweater, white slippers and your hair lightly messed up, he can’t help but just think of how much he missed you, how pretty you look even now.

“Can I come in?” He asks, almost pleading, wide eyes staring into yours.

You nod, finally taking a breath, stepping to the side as he comes in. He closes the door behind him and you sit down on the couch, he remembers your apartment, small but cozy, still neat as the first time he ‘slept’ here, it makes him want to go back to make it up to you.

“I know I was a dick, didn’t write, didn’t.. respond to your letters, didn’t tell you I was out but —“ he sighs, slightly approaching you further. “I didn’t mean any of it, it was rough and I —“ he tries to finish, you cut him off.

“Spencer.” Your voice echoes through his ears like a hum, makes his shoulders slightly relax, makes him feel more relaxed.

“Yeah?” He answers, his eyes going away from yours.

“It’s fine.” You reassure. Yes, you may have been a little hurt, but he’s hurt more in there, you don’t know the things he’s gone through, you can’t blame him for any of his behaviour even with how rude it was. “Do you — want.. coffee?”

“Tea.” He chuckles.

“Tea?” You ask and he nods, maybe he needs the peace way more than he needs the energy. “Okay.”

So you stand and brew him the tea, grabbing the mug with both hands before blowing softly on it, handing it to him. This is more than he ever could ask for, and he wants to thank you for the hospitality, for the way you don’t judge him, for the way you’re so nice. He doesn’t need to say it, you can see it in his eyes.

He appreciates it all.

And he especially appreciates the way you welcome him into your bed as if nothing has passed between you.

[loveemii]

has anyone else seen the most drop-kick ass gorgeous edits of these two? or is it just me??

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 your camera roll if you were billie's girlfriend... 2!

𐙚 amiyaps : am i improving... 😼 (thank u, @tan1shere for some of the picturess, ilyyy!!!!)

𐙚 tags : @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @hrtsdollie @zayluvss @meliciousmel13 @stonerfromlesbos

[greengoblinswifey]

hii ! could you write a story about like nicholas chavez as a doctor x fem patient smut, I've been trying to find a good story like this but I literally can't 😭😭

much love !!

summary— you’re referred to Dr. Chavez at the hospital due to a misdiagnosis. one of your symptoms include intense, unrelenting arousal and as your doctor, it’s his job to help make you better in any way he can.

warnings— female masturbation, voyeurism, abuse of power, fingering, body worship, oral, degrading kink, praise kink, public sex kinda(hospital), unprotected sex, sir kink, ass slapping, choking(with tie), erotic asphyxiation, use of doctor during sex, slight manipulation if you squint, aftercare.

a/n— i’d love if you guys send requests, reblog and comment☺️

After a recent misdiagnosis left you frustrated and your symptoms worsening, you were referred to Dr. Chavez. Though he seemed slightly irritated about having to “fix someone else's mess,” he introduced himself with a polite but distant professionalism. He stood before you, impeccably dressed in a white coat over a crisp suit and tie, every detail in place. He was calm, collected, and intensely focused as he started going over your symptoms.

When you finally mentioned the most embarrassing one, the constant, nearly unbearable arousal, you noticed his reaction, a slight widening of his eyes, and a pause in his typing. “And, uh, how often would you say this happens?” he asked, his voice steady but his gaze flickering with something unreadable.

“Constantly doctor,” you admitted, cheeks flushing. “I’m always horny, sometimes it’s painful. Like, I just can’t think straight, or focus on anything else.”

After ordering several tests, he told you they’d need to monitor you at the hospital. This only intensified your frustration, the more time you spent in his presence, the worse your symptoms felt, in particular your constant arousal. You tried to distract yourself by prying into his life, probing the doctor with questions. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which made your mind spin even more.

Hours turned to days, and your symptoms didn’t let up. You felt more tired, the frustration mounting as medical staff came in and out of your room. Privacy was nearly impossible, leaving you with no room to release the growing arousal that only got worse.

One night, after another round of exhausting tests, the hallway was finally quiet. You were alone. You couldn’t help yourself, the relief you craved was all you could think about. Without any other means as your vibrator had long since been forgotten at home, you let your fingers slide down, imagining Dr. Chavez’s calm voice, his firm hands. You closed your eyes, stifling a moan, picturing him standing over you, his gaze intense.

You flipped the sheets off you and hiked up the hospital gown they draped you in. Still not satisfied, you ripped your underwear off and spread your legs, your fingers frantically rubbing your clit then slipping into your sloppy hole. Soft moans filled the room as your head was swarming with thoughts of Dr. Chavez being the one to make you feel good.

Just then, the door clicked open, and there he was, clipboard in hand, looking caught off guard. He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the way you quickly pulled your hand back. He cleared his throat. “I came to check on you,” he said, his tone layered with something more than just professional concern.

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “Doctor, I—it's been so hard, I couldn’t help myself.”

For a moment, he lingered there, eyes locked on yours, before he shook himself slightly. “It’s part of my job to ensure you’re comfortable and to help you,” he replied, voice slightly rougher, eyes not quite meeting yours as he jotted something down on the clipboard.

You looked at him, unable to hold back the desperation any longer and you noticed the dent in his pants. “Well help me, doctor,” you whispered, voice thick with need. “Can you do something to make it go away? Please give me something, anything to make it stop.”

He stopped in his tracks, his already intense gaze darkening as he absorbed your words. “Beg,” he commanded, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Please, doctor,” you said, voice trembling, willing yourself to keep his attention. “Please help me, I need you to fix me, make me feel better.”

A dark chuckle slipped from him as he locked the door behind him, his fingers throwing off his tie and shrugging off his coat. He then stood right before you, his eyes sweeping over your form.

Without another word, he reached out, his fingertips barely grazing over your thigh as he leaned in close. “Needy, aren’t you?” he murmured with a smirk. His fingers teased, trailing down until they brushed against your pussy, his touch almost unbearably light.

“Please, Dr. Chavez,” you pleaded again, breath catching as his fingers lingered at the edges of your need. “Please, sir.”

His smile only widened as he took in your reaction, and without another moment’s hesitation, he knelt down before you. His hands were firm under your thighs and then his mouth was on your leaking pussy, a loud moan leaving you as he began. His focus was unrelenting, and you couldn’t contain your whimpers, each one drawing him in closer.

Every sound you made seemed to fuel him, his hands gripping you tighter, his touch sending you higher.

“Yes that’s it sir, don’t stop,” you whimpered, your hands going to his hair as you held him close and moved your pussy all over his mouth.

“Mm- you taste so fucking good, so fucking desperate for me aren’t you,” he hummed, in between licks.

He continued, now slipping a finger inside you and sucking on your clit, until, you arched your back off the bed and felt yourself let go, a sensation so intense you squirted and felt your pussy and your whole body quivering from it all.

His eyes met yours, a smirk on his lips. “You were so desperate, weren't you?” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Glad I could help.”

You leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips, savoring your own delectable taste.

“Hm,” Dr. Chavez paused, his lips still mere inches away from you, “based on my observations, I’ve come to the conclusion that you still need my help. You still need me to make you better, so I have to put my dick inside you sweetheart, I just have to.”

You nodded almost mindlessly, leaning into his touch, his mere presence was intoxicating. Though you got the relief you wanted, having him so close to you brought you back to square one. Your pussy was still leaking.

Breathlessly, he unbuckled his pants, the sight before you making you drool like a dog in heat. He slipped himself out, revealing a long, thick and rock hard cock you would do anything to feel inside you.

“God, look at you,” he said, licking his lips and pumping his cock, “tell me how bad you want me, how bad you want this dick.”

“Please sir, I want you so bad, I need you to fuck me. please help me,” you panted, desperation evident in your voice.

“That’s a good girl, my patients are always so obedient.” He grabbed your hair, bringing you down to his cock’s level and thrusted into your mouth.

“Worship this cock,” he demanded, his voice sounding strained as he tried to contain his moans.

“Fuck, I love your cock doctor, it tastes so good, I- mm, need it so fucking bad,” you said, in between having his dick brush your tonsil. You slurped and moaned as you continuously gagged on the feeling of him being so deep in your throat. Reaching down, you played with your clit, desperate for some sort of relief.

“Hey, hey, no,” Dr. Chavez bellowed, “stop touching yourself. I’m your doctor and I know what’s best, I’ll help you with my dick inside you, those tiny little fingers won’t satisfy you. They won’t make you better.”

You whimpered in response but listened. He was your doctor after all, he knew best. He would never tell you anything that wasn’t accurate.

His moans grew breathy and louder but as soon as you felt his balls tighten, he pulled you off his cock by the hair and in a swift motion, you fell flat on the bed.

“S’gonna be okay sweetheart, my cock inside you is gonna make it all better.”

Just as swiftly, his cock pierced your pussy, slipping inside you and stretching you slowly. The stretch was burning as he groaned and pushed deeper but the feeling was soon replaced by immense pleasure.

“Oh god, you’re so fucking wet, sloppy fucking pussy you’ve got huh,” he moaned, chuckling.

Your face was contorted in pleasure, looking up at your doctor as he pounded into you, the feeling better than anything else you’d ever experienced in your life. Your moans willed him on and his thrusts became more frantic as he felt your pussy grip and tighten around him.

“That’s it baby, this desperate little pussy can’t get enough of her doctor’s cock, gripping me so tight like she doesn’t wanna let me go.” A sob left your lips due to the intensity of it all and soon, you wrapped your legs around his waist, gripping on to him for dear life as you squirted on his cock.

“Good girl, that’s my needy fucking whore, let it all out.”

Small whimpers filled the hospital room as you slowly came down from your high, but you were still needy, your body grinding against him sending even more jolts of pleasure through you.

“M-more, please sir, just one more,” you begged tears in your eyes.

“Jesus Christ baby, you’re a fucking desperate whore aren’t you, God, you just can’t get enough of my cock.”

Your lips quivered and you knew you were being desperate but you didn’t care, all you cared about was your release just one more time. Just once and you’d be okay for the next few days. You needed it quick, the commotion was surely to make a nurse come wandering soon.

“I just— oh,” your sentence was cut short as he easily flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up to him and slipped inside your wet pussy once more. You spread your legs and arched your back, needing him as deep inside you as he could go.

“That’s it baby, spread this fucking pussy.” He slapped your ass harshly and soon you felt something slip around your neck. It was his tie. He slipped the tie around your neck, not enough to restrict your airflow too much, but just enough to have your head spinning and only the thought of his cock in it.

“Take it, take this fucking dick. You were so desperate for it, now you have it.” A small cry left your lips as you felt him repeatedly hit your g spot.

“Oh you fucking love it, you love your doctor’s cock deep inside your wet fucking pussy don’t you, whore,” he inquired, pulling you back to his chest by the tie around your neck.

“Y- yes, I love it sir,” you managed to croak out.

“Good girl, because as long as you’re here and under my care, you’re gonna get this dick every fucking night. Every fucking time you’re needy and desperate my cock is gonna be here to fill this pussy.”

His words sent you over the edge and your body convulsed under his touch as you squirted. He continued fucking you through your high but you couldn’t take anymore. You squirmed away from him, your pussy somehow still gushing and he quickly pulled out, releasing his warm cum all over your back.

“Fucking hell, your pussy is just gushing,” he moaned, as he pumped his cock, milking himself of everything onto your back.

Your body was so weak you could barely form words as you tried to thank him for making you feel better.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s my job to help you.” He shushed you then went to the bathroom, bringing back a cloth to clean you up and get you back into your underwear and fix your gown. He didn’t need anyone coming to check and seeing you in that state.

He kissed your forehead, caressing your body as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

“It’s okay baby, go to sleep, your doctor’s gonna always be here to make you feel better.”

[malavera]

Peaches: “We can’t do this here!” (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: You’ve been a brat all day and Logan doesn’t want to leave you all alone in your house so he invites you to hang out at his while his friend from work is also visiting.

warning: SMUT! MDNI. Dry humping, thigh riding, a bit voyeurism (?), foul language both are going at it while there’s a person beside’s them.

↬ peaches masterlist

↬ logan howlett masterlist

taglist: @hughverine @girlimjustherr @weallhaveadestiny @kholdkill @wcndercore @peachyystuff @narjuko @seasonofthenerd

Logan never really gives you what you want.

You thought you were the teaser, but you’ve thought wrong. Ever since you both embraced the strange, intoxicating dance between you, he’s proven to be the biggest tease of all.

It’s one of those relentless summer days, the kind that sticks to your skin and makes you languid with heat. The sun is high, pouring down like honey, and Logan is in his yard, shirtless as usual, wearing nothing but his worn-out denim jeans—the kind that hang just low enough to make you wonder. His muscles ripple with each movement as he waters his garden, the cool spray from the hose glistening on his skin, making him look like some rugged, mythic hero. And he knows you’re watching.

You try to get back at him, taking a slow, deliberate dip in the pool, the water a perfect contrast to the scorching sun above. Your bikini is skimpy—by design. You lounge by the edge of the pool, letting the water lap against your skin, casting sidelong glances his way, hoping for a reaction.

But Logan doesn’t falter. Not even a hint of distraction. He’s fixing up his den now, just outside the house, hammering away at some project that doesn’t need doing. You arch your back a little more, let the sunlight catch the curve of your body, but he doesn’t even glance your way.

He never gives in. Never crosses the yard, never stops to give you that look you crave, never comes over to do the things you’re aching for him to do. It’s infuriating, exhilarating, this game he plays. And somehow, in the heat of the day, you’re always left wanting more.

So you decide to up the ante.

You slip into the house, the cool air inside hitting your sun-soaked skin like a breath of fresh life. You rummage through the kitchen, finding a popsicle, something icy and sweet. You step back outside, feeling the heat wrap around you again, and you make your way back to the pool’s edge. This time, you’re more deliberate. You take a seat on the hot concrete, the warmth almost searing against your thighs, and start licking the popsicle slowly, letting the cold drip down your fingers, the sweetness lingering on your lips.

You can feel his gaze now, a flicker of something like interest, like curiosity, like that familiar tension that’s been threading between you both for so long. You stretch out your legs, tilt your head back, and let out a small, satisfied sigh, as if the icy treat is the only relief you’ve found all day.

Logan pauses. It’s just a split second, but you see it—the briefest hesitation in his movements, the smallest crack in that tough exterior. He looks over, and your eyes meet. For a moment, the world seems to stop—the heat, the sun, the entire summer day suspended in that charged gaze.

But then, he smirks. Just a slight curve of his lips, as if he knows exactly what you’re doing, and he’s not about to let you win that easily. He picks up his hammer again and returns to his work, the muscles in his back flexing under the hot sun, every movement deliberate, controlled.

You’ve had enough. Frustration bubbles over, mingling with the heat and the sweet stickiness of the popsicle. You stand up abruptly, toss the melting treat into the grass, and storm over to his yard, your flip-flops slapping against the concrete with every determined step.

“What are you doing?” you demand, standing over him, hands on your hips, your voice a mix of exasperation and heat.

Logan doesn’t even look up. “What does it look like I’m doing, peach?” he asks, his tone maddeningly calm as he hammers another nail into the wood.

You let out a frustrated breath, your eyes narrowing. “Why are you always doing this?”

He finally glances up, his eyes locking with yours, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Doing what?”

“Acting like… like you don’t care!” you blurt out, your cheeks flushing, both from the heat and the sudden burst of emotion. “I’m out here, right in front of you, and you’re just… hammering away, like I’m not even here!”

Logan leans back, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “I see you just fine, peach.” he says, his voice low and steady, sending a shiver down your spine despite the scorching day.

“That’s not what I mean,” you say, throwing your hands up in frustration. “You know what I want, Logan. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

He stands up slowly, his full height towering over you, the sun casting a golden glow around him. He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. But if you think a little show by the pool is gonna make me come running, you’ve got another thing coming.”

You bite your lip, torn between wanting to scream and wanting to pull him closer. He’s so infuriatingly calm, so perfectly composed, and it drives you mad. “Why do you have to be like this?” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

Logan’s smile widens just a touch, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Because it’s fun watching you get all riled up,” he says. “And because I like seeing you fight for what you want.”

You stare at him, caught between frustration and something else, something deeper that you can’t quite name. The heat of the day seems to intensify, wrapping around you both like a living thing, and for a moment, the air is thick with something more than just the summer sun.

Logan takes a step back, picking up his hammer again. “Besides,” he adds, turning back to his work with a casual shrug, “I’m not that easy to get.”

You let out a breath, a mix of anger and reluctant admiration bubbling up inside you. Logan might never give you exactly what you want, but maybe that’s what keeps you coming back, keeps you pushing, keeps you yearning for just a little more... But you've had enough of it. You've been trying to get with him, and you've tried everything. You've sent flirtatious texts, you kept sleeping with your window open sometimes naked sometimes not, until this one.

After your heated exchange, you storm back to your house, frustration and embarrassment swirling inside you like a storm cloud. You can’t believe you let him get under your skin like that. It’s like he enjoys watching you squirm, enjoys seeing you desperate for his attention. Your cheeks burn, not just from the blazing sun but from the realization that you’ve been acting like a brat, throwing a tantrum because you didn’t get your way.

Once inside, you slam the door behind you, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat outside. You try to keep yourself busy, moving from room to room, picking up things that don’t need tidying, flipping through channels on the TV without really watching anything. But no matter what you do, you can’t get Logan out of your head—his calm demeanor, his teasing smirk, the way he looks at you like he’s always one step ahead.

You flop onto the couch, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. Why does he have to be so infuriating? Why can’t he just give in, just once?

Time passes slowly, the minutes dragging on as you stew in your frustration. You tell yourself you’re done playing his games, that you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he gets to you. But even as you think it, you know it’s a lie. There’s something about Logan that keeps pulling you back, something that makes you want to push his buttons just as much as he pushes yours.

Just as you’re starting to lose yourself in a book, trying to distract your mind from Logan, there’s a knock on the door. It’s firm but not impatient, and you know immediately who it is. You hesitate for a moment, your heart skipping a beat, before you get up and open the door.

And there he is, leaning his hand casually against the doorframe. This time he’s wearing a shirt—a faded gray tee that clings to his chest in a way that’s almost worse than if he were shirtless. “I’m sorry, Peach,” he says, his voice low and warm, but his smile feels like a mock to you, a tease as always.

Your cheeks flush again, this time with a mix of anger and something else—something that makes your pulse quicken. “Don’t call me that,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to look unaffected.

"C'mon, I'm serious, Peach. Anyway, it's almost dinner. How about you come by and have one at mine?" Logan says, his voice a mix of exasperation and something softer, almost like concern. "A friend from work is coming over, and I don't want to leave you all alone."

You cross your arms tighter, trying to hold onto your irritation even as his words make your resolve waver. "No, I can do it by myself," you snap, turning away slightly, but not enough to hide the way your eyes flicker back to his.

"I'm not playing here, Peach. Go get ready, and I'll cook you dinner," he says, his tone firmer now, but still carrying that teasing lilt that always makes your heart race.

You shake your head, trying to maintain your stance. "No."

Logan’s expression shifts, a frown creasing his brow. He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you two. His sudden closeness makes you inhale sharply, and your eyes dart upward, slowly meeting his intense gaze. You can feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with the warmth of the day, creating a charged atmosphere around you.

“Now,” he commands, his voice low and insistent, leaving no room for argument. Sighing, you turn around and walk upstairs to your room. A light bulb appears on top of your head, you've got an idea in mind.

"Peach, I better see you at my house later. My friend's just arrived." You tilt your head slightly, catching his words but choosing not to respond. Instead, you roll your eyes, a smirk forming on your lips as you continue rummaging through your closet. You grab the short baby pink dress—the one that clings in all the right places and leaves little to the imagination.

If Logan wants to play games, you’re ready to play right back. If he isn’t going to give you what you want, you’re going to make him want to. You’re determined to push him to the brink, to see just how far he can be teased before he snaps.

You slip into the dress, the fabric cool against your skin. You check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out the dress and fluffing your hair, a wicked smile curving your lips. Tonight, you’re going to turn the tables on Logan. If he wants to keep pretending he’s in control, he’s about to find out just how wrong he is.

Logan opens the front door just as his friend arrives. “Nice place you got here, Lo. Totally suits your vibe,” Wade steps inside, taking a quick glance around. Wade says, his tone light and friendly as he surveys the cozy, rustic charm of Logan’s home.

Logan chuckles, closing the door behind him. “Thanks, man. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s getting there. Make yourself at home. Dinner will be ready in a second.”

“Yeah, sure,” Wade replies, dropping onto the couch and kicking his feet up. “Have you heard from Peter?”

Logan nods, moving into the kitchen to check on the food. “Yeah, he’s been busy with that new project. Said he might swing by next week if he can get away.”

Wade leans back, his hands behind his head as he glances around. “Sounds about right. Peter’s always buried in something. How’s life been treating you here, though? You settling in okay?”

Logan grabs a few plates from the cupboard, setting them on the counter as he shrugs. “Yeah, it’s been good. Quiet, mostly. Just how I like it.”

Wade raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Quiet, huh? That doesn’t sound like the Logan I know. What’s the catch?”

Logan smirks, stirring the pot on the stove. “No catch. Just… trying something different, I guess. Besides, it’s not always quiet,” he adds, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Wade chuckles. “Oh, I see how it is. You got some company keeping you on your toes?”

Logan doesn’t answer immediately, but his grin widens slightly. “Something like that,” he mutters, his thoughts momentarily drifting back to you. He shakes his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Anyway, I hope you’re hungry. I’ve got plenty to go around.”

A knock on the door catches both Logan and Wade’s attention. Logan is focused on setting the table for dinner, so Wade steps up, his natural curiosity getting the better of him. “I’ll get it,” Wade offers casually, heading over to the door.

As the door swings open, Wade is greeted by the sight of you standing on the porch in your short baby pink dress. He raises an eyebrow, surprised but clearly intrigued. “Why, hello, pretty girl,” Wade says with a playful grin. “Can I help you with something?”

You smirk, recognizing the playful banter in his tone. “Yeah, Logan invited me for dinner. Are you his friend?”

“In fact, I am, yes,” Wade replies, his grin widening. “I’m Wade. And you are…?”

Before you can answer, Logan’s voice cuts through the air. “Peach?” he calls out, his tone sharp with surprise and a hint of something else—something closer to frustration or concern.

Wade turns slightly to look back at Logan, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, I see I’ve met your other company now, Logan,” he says, clearly amused by the tension in the air.

Logan’s expression shifts the moment he sees you standing there. His eyes narrow slightly, his jaw tightening as he takes in your outfit. The short dress clings to your body, accentuating every curve, and he can’t help but feel a mix of annoyance and something more primal stir within him. He knows he’s being irrational, but the thought of Wade, or anyone else for that matter, seeing you like this makes his blood run hot.

Wade notices Logan's darkened expression, he knows his best friend too well to set his pants on fire therefore, he decided to step out of the thickening air situation. "I'll be in the kitchen." Wade grinned mischievously before he slipped out of the tense situation.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Logan growls, his voice low but laced with frustration. He steps closer, his towering presence making the small space between you feel even more charged.

You cross your arms over your chest, lifting your chin defiantly. “It’s a dress, Logan. It’s hot outside. Besides, I thought you liked it when I wore pink.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing. “That’s not the point, Peach. This—” he gestures at your dress, clearly struggling to find the right words. “This is too much. Or too little, rather. Especially with Wade around.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Oh, please. Wade seems nice enough. And you’re the one who invited me over, remember? Come on. I smell my favorite food." You pushed past him and make your way towards the dining room.

The dinner turns out to be surprisingly enjoyable—at least for you and Wade. The two of you hit it off almost immediately, slipping into an easy rhythm of conversation. Wade’s charm and quick wit make him a fun dining companion, and before long, you find yourself laughing more than you have in days. He’s the kind of person who knows how to keep a conversation light and entertaining, effortlessly pulling you in with his stories and humor.

Logan, on the other hand, is another story. He sits at the head of the table, brooding silently, only speaking when absolutely necessary. His responses are curt and to the point, as if he’s simply going through the motions. It’s clear he’s not as engaged in the banter, his mind elsewhere, occasionally glancing in your direction with a look you can’t quite decipher.

"Anyone down for a movie?" Wade offered and you instantly shot up. "Ooh, me, me! What are we watching?"

"Well actually, the original plan was to binge watch Die Hard with the old man here. I don't know if it's your kind of movie but—"

"That sounds fun, I'm in!" You cut Wade with excitement laced in your tone, Logan scoffed. "It's an action movie, you don't like action, peach." You looked at him frowning.

"Whatever, I'll have whatever you guys are having." You smiled proudly.

"Alright, I'll go set up. Get the beers will you, peanut?" Wade said to Logan before patting his cheeks.

Logan was right, the movie is boring. Action movies are supposed to keep you on the edge of your seat, but this one just isn't doing it for you. The plot is dragging, and your interest is fading fast. You're halfway through Die Hard 2, and instead of thrilling action, all you can focus on is how long it's taking to get to the good parts.

A soft snore suddenly pulls you out of your thoughts. You glance over and see Wade, his head tilted back, mouth slightly open, his body slumped comfortably; fast asleep. Logan notices it too and chuckles to himself before he takes a swig of his beer.

You clear your throat quietly and shuffle a little closer to Logan. As you are feeling bolder, you let your head rest against his broad shoulder. Logan glances down at you, his lips curling into a slight smile. "You enjoying the movie, Peach?" he asks, his voice low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

"No," you admit, your voice just above a whisper. Logan chuckles again, the sound deep and warm. "Didn't think so." You sighed, your fingers lightly trailing over the fabric of his jeans. "I'm bored," your hand rests on his thigh.

Logan’s eyebrow quirks up, his gaze dropping to where your hand has landed. He stays silent for a moment, just watching you, as if weighing his options. You feel your heart thump a little harder in your chest, the air between you charged with something electric.

“Yeah?” he finally says, his voice low and soft, almost like a growl. “C’mere.”

Before you can fully register his words, Logan’s hands are on you, strong and sure, guiding you up and over onto his lap. You feel a thrill race through you as he settles you down, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you in place. You let out a small sigh of contentment, snuggling against his chest, seeking his warmth.

“I’m sorry about before, Peach,” Logan mumbles, his calloused hand gently tracing the curve of your bare back. His touch is careful, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid of hurting you. The contrast between the roughness of his hands and the softness of your skin sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You feel the heat of his palm, every ridge and scar, as he caresses you with a tenderness that feels almost out of place on him.

You hum softly in response, eyes half-closed, savoring the warmth of his touch. Logan glances down at you, his gaze intense but softened with a hint of regret. “I really like this dress on you,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “I don’t want anyone else to see you in it but me.” His words are possessive, but there’s a vulnerability there, too, a hint of something deeper that he’s struggling to keep hidden.

A smirk tugs at your lips. You like hearing him talk like this—like he can’t help himself, like you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger. The corners of your mouth twitch upward, and Logan catches the teasing glint in your eyes. He reaches over to the remote, turning the volume down just a notch, not wanting the loud explosions and gunfire from the movie to disturb Wade’s sleep. Or maybe he just doesn’t want Wade to ruin this moment. This closeness. This intimacy.

Logan’s hand, which has been lazily stroking your back, moves lower to your hips, his grip firm but still gentle. His other hand slides around to your front, fingers splaying across your stomach as if to steady you. The heat of his body radiates through the thin fabric of your dress, and you can feel every breath he takes, the rise and fall of his chest.

With a gentle but insistent tug, Logan urges you to pull back slightly, just enough so he can see your face. You reluctantly shift away from his warmth, turning to look up at him, your eyes searching his. 

You could feel a tent growing in his pants, and that's when you finally have him wrapped around your finger. You intended to give him the blue balls, just like he did to you when he forced your mouth down on his cock and then left you hanging there. Did not attend to your needy pussy just once.

By now you learn the control was never really with you.

Logan possessively grab your hips and force you to grind your clothed cunt against his rough fabric of jeans. You quietly gasped as you watched Logan with surprised, him on the other hand, didn't seem to budge. He stares at you with a frown, a different kind of frown that gives the indication that one is really enjoying this. The kind of frown that screams, I am in control, don't push it.

"L-logan," you gasped. "We can't do this here!"

He gruff, "Hmm, why not, Peach? Isn't this what you want?" His eyes drooping, enjoying the feeling every time your pussy grinds down against his growing bulge. "Come on, Peach, rub that pussy against my cock." Logan released your hips to cross his arms against his neck, as he lay there, expecting you to proceed.

"But, Wade-" You started to turn your head towards the sleeping Wade but Logan roughly grab your chin and turn your gaze back to him. "Don't care, just look at me." He hissed.

"Move that hips." You nodded your head and started grinding your pussy.

"There we go, feels good right, Peach?"

Here we go, you thought. His filthy words, he always has a way with them. When he started to sing those praises to you, you're sure you're going to come undone anytime soon. Fuck, control, I wanna cum now, you thought.

You increased the speed of going back and forth against his bulge, a soft moan escaped from your lips. Logan chuckles before moving his hips upwards, "Such a whore." You whimpered.

"Such a greedy whore, always wanting my cock." You gasped when you can feel his cock twitch in his pants. Slapping your own mouth with your own hand, afraid you might let out the biggest moan.

"Mmmh," you whimper. "So good, daddy." Screwing your eyes shut.

Logan's hand found its way to the back of your neck to push your face closer to his. Listening to his rugged breath as he is to your adorable chants so good, so good.

"I know, I know," Logan coo'ed. "You're gonna cum, Peaches?" You whimpered.

"It's okay baby, break for me. Don't worry, he's not going to wake up. Nobody's stopping you, come on, break for me." His words felt like a spell to you and before you know it, your thighs stuttered as you came down your high, creating a wet spot right on top of his clothed cock.

"Theeereee.. We go, good job, Peach. Good girl." Logan coo'ed at you, pushing a strand of hair away from your face as you tried to catch your breath.

"Bu- But, you haven't-"

"There's always another time, Peach. This is not gonna be the last."

And you have a feeling, he's right. It feels like it's going to be forever, with him.

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