#im so down bad for this man

[moonyflesh]

🐾 Cat Scratches - [James “Logan” Howlett x Reader]

WARNINGS: lots of fluff, brief mention of neck kisses, some suggestive comments but nothing past PG

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (Wolverine, MARVEL/X-MEN)

🐾 .*.. 🕯️

Logan laid comfortably on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your lower back and hips as he buried his face into your abdomen, the bare skin of your tummy visible just slightly underneath your sweater.

Lazily scrolling through your phone, splayed out across his bed with him on top of you, your fingers trailed over his upper shoulders, scratching the fabric of his white compression shirt, rubbing his sore muscles from a long day of training and battle practice.

As your fingers trailed upwards mindlessly on his back, your manicured nails finally reached the nape of his neck, teasing the edge of his hairline.

Scrolling down further through your instagram, you let out a soft sigh of content as your fingers finally buried into the hair on the back of his head, eliciting a low rumble from the back of his throat.

You perked up at this, glancing past the dimmed screen of your device, an eyebrow quirked upwards at his reaction.

“You alright, Lo?”

You muttered out, a small, curious smile tugging at your glossy lips, damp from your teeth gently biting at them out of unconscious habit.

“Mmmh,”

He responded in a low hum, leaning into your fingers as you smiled, a small, amused chuckle leaving your lips at his fingers that slid lower on your back, cupping the backs of your thighs with a slightly possessive grip.

You felt a soft, warm press of his chapped lips against your stomach, just above your panty line, and a small laugh left your lips as he buried his nose further into you, inhaling without hesitation. In response, your legs opened slightly underneath him, wrapping them around his broad midsection with a light squeeze.

Preferring the man in front of you opposed to the celebrities on your phone, you dropped it at your side, letting it become lost in the fluffy, unkept sheets next to your form as both your hands wrapped around his head, burying your fingers into his scalp.

A low, animalistic-like growl left his lips as you scratched through his hair, meeting the place behind his ears, where you knew he was most sensitive.

Tracing over the area where his jaw connected to his ear and neck, you let out a low hum in response, tilting your head propped up on one of his pillows to the side, your eyebrows knitting together lightly in curiosity at his pleasant reactions.

“Feels good, bub. Right- mmh. There.”

Your eyes narrowed at his borderline inappropriate hum, and you nodded, wordlessly continuing to scrape through his fluffy, unkept hair.

“I didn’t take you for a cat, Logan,” You teased quietly, a small vibration leaving your own form, similar to that of the buzz of an old stereo.

“Don’t mock me, sweetheart. Can’t help it,”

He shot back, his furry eyebrows knitting together as he finally shifted, pulling himself up further, allowing his face to move from your stomach to your collarbone, trying desperately not to go full deadweight on you, knowing he’d crush your frail form.

“Plus, ever since you got yer nails done-”

He didn’t finish his sentence as you raked through his head of hair once more, pushing his face into the warm skin of your exposed neck, muffling any protest from him.

“Stop talking, James. Sleep.”

You effectively hushed him, a small smile pulling at your face as he grumbled out something along the lines of ‘mm. Whatever,’ and ‘fine.’

You felt him pepper a few hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his teeth teasingly biting down on your exposed shoulder, before lapping at the new mark with his tongue, admiring his work with your taste.

“G’night, bub.”

You smiled at his subtle acceptance to your demand, your fingers frozen in his fluffy hair and partially in his long side shaves, nodding.

“Goodnight, kitty.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

Observant

Being the Hand's young, second wife came with a lot of responsibilities, one of which was mellowing the frustrations of your husband.

Otto Hightower x Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, age difference/age gap, smut (piv, slight dub con, degradation kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, anal fingering, dacryphilia, sadism, praise kink) fluff I guess, typos, etc.

A/N: so i made a poll on what to write and fluff won and this is literally pwp but it has a fluffy ending (???) so it counts HAHAHAH IDK OTTO BRAIN ROT. LOBOTOMY ME IDC I HAVE TO GO TO WORK NOW BYE. A great day to be an otto fucker amirite HAHAHAH cross posted on ao3

You take in a breath the moment you reach the Hand's office. A chill runs down your spine as the night air seeps through your robe and night dress.

In truth, you figured your husband would have appreciated not being interrupted by you, though his pointed instruction otherwise, but there was another truth you answered to: that is, the ache between your legs that your fingers could not quell.

Even now, there was a heat that spread, which only intensified at the thoughts you knew would come to life the moment you knocked on your husband's office door. So you do.

"Who is it?" the deep voice snapped with as much intensity as a rabid dog.

A beat of silence.

Your belly instantly rolls. You rub it as you tighten your robe with one hand. The other, which was holding your lamp, shivers under its weight. You weakly manage to muster, "tis I, my lord."

You stiffen at the sound of heavy footsteps marching your way. A soft gasp leaves your lips when the door swings open and the face of the Lord Hand was glares at you.

"What is it, girl?" Otto hisses, both his hands resting on the sides of the door frame. His presence overwhelms you. His eyes are tired and his jaw is tense. 

Yes, you did always feel like some petulant little girl under the scrutiny of your much older husband. You lick your lips and exhale deeply to calm yourself. Simply, you remind him of his own words from earlier today, "tis the hour of the owl."

Lord Hightower is unmoved.

"I've come to fetch you."

A vein at the side of his neck threatens to pop. He pulls away and heads to his desk, "I have much to do, thanks to the fucking king."

You purse your lips at his words, thinking about the said man. Aegon was around your age, if not a bit younger, and at some point you had been friends, until you were promised to his grandfather.

You walk up to Otto's side and he rather instantly makes a spectacle of his abundant papers. He rants heatedly about it for a good moment, before turning to you. His face is worn and his shoulders squared, "I will not waste my time further by explaining this to you. Leave."

Otto places a hand on your bum and pushes you off. You budge, for after all, he was a man much bigger than you, even if no longer in his prime. Your hand darts to his desk to keep yourself upright, and the hand holding your lamp grips it firmly so that it would not slip. You return to your previous position as the man continues with his work.

"L e a v e," he drags out with audible vexation, "now."

"No."

He freezes.

"You will leave," you correct "—this room. Tis the hour of the owl."

Otto turns to you, offended, "you command me?"

You clench you jaw, "you command yourself. I am simply your obedient servant, lord husband."

Your lord husband stands. He towers over you and presses close, so close that he takes your lamp and puts it out, leaving it ignored on his desk, "am I not commanding you now?"

Your heart races when he takes your neck, thumb pressing on your throat as he rubs it. He can feel your raging pulse and it excites him, but not as much as your next words do, "you are you unkind when you are exhausted."

"To whom?" 

"To everyone," you mutter, "you must retire."

Otto releases your neck and heads for the door, "I will not."

Your brows furrow as you watch him storm off.

You realize only what he meant after following him into your shared chambers.

He grabs you from behind and sinks his face into your neck. You feel his beard against your skin and his hands eagerly clawing down your body. He pushes you into bed and you manage to look over your shoulder for the few seconds as he undoes his breeches. Not a second later, he pushes you on the sheets and pulls your skirt up.

You whimper into the cushion, bringing your face to the side as he rests his weight between your shoulders. He clenches his jaw as he grabs your hip. You obediently shift on your knees and gasp when he rubs his groin into yours. He sighs out a string of profanities when he feels your wetness. He pulls back and looks at the softness of your thighs, inspecting the pooling lust on your cunt. He rubs your clit, "my cherubic wife, so ready to be taken by her aged husband."

Your belly trembles as he uses your warm slick to flick your sensitive nub, leaving you to do nothing but curl your toes and whine into the sheets.

"Body so eager to be molded by my cock," he mutters. He slowly sinks two fingers into your weeping folds. He stretches you with his fingers and sinks deep, relishing the warm stickiness coating his digits, "so pretty like this. More so with my seed mixed with your arousal, dripping down your puckered cunt."

He continues to serve you with his fingers until pressure builds in your stomach. Then, with no warning and little care, Otto replaces his fingers with his hardened cock and fucks you thoroughly from behind. The hand he had by your shoulder blades move up and tangle into your hair. His other hand tirelessly works on your clit, expertly rubbing them that your body writhes under his weight.

You are trapped beneath him, however. He need only push on your head and lock your legs with his; you can do nothing else to do but take his cock and his fingers.

The sound of wet slapping skin and your uncontrollable whimpers dampen out the creaking and thudding of your bed against the stone wall. Quickly, your breathing begins to grow strained and Otto gives no indication of slowing, especially not when he merited a scream from your lips from the pleasure building hotly in your stomach.

"Otto, Otto-" you begin to whine, nails ripping into the sheets, "w-wait— I-"

He furrows his brows at your words, offended that you would instruct him grant your reprieve. Just as he felt your slick building against his clothes? Even if he wanted to stop to catch his breath, he would not.

Alas, mortal man still was he, and his plowing had to slow. Slow, not stop. Though his arm began to tire, his fingers did not relent their assault on your swollen clit. He made up for any delays with slower but harsh flicks of his hip.

Your peak caught both of you off guard, and you came around his cock with a ghastly noise that made him stab your womb roughly in surprise. He stops moving altogether soon after.

Upon realizing the absolute bliss that seized your form, he puts all of his focus on your clit, wanting nothing but to make you shake and tighten around his wet cock as much as he possibly can.

The wind is knocked out of your lungs and your eyes water at the intensity of it all. Soon, it was all too much for you. It was all far too much, and yet he did not stop.

"Otto," your voice is hoarse as you sob into the dampened sheets, dampened with your tears and saliva.

He does not acknowledge you at all. He continues rubbing your pulsing clit with his fingers no matter how much your belly shook or your thighs trembled. He adores your mousy noises. He pulls your head back by your hair and slowly begins to thrust into you until the bed begins to creak at the intensity again.

It's too much, and the noise that rips out of you is nothing but further indication of this.

Your body struggles beneath him, your parted thighs that turned to putty were now shifting frantically in the hope to be free of this overwhelming sensation. You clench and unclench around him, hips pushing forward and back in an attempt to break away, but it, in fact, only makes your heady husband double down on his efforts to keep you in place.

His fingers only then finally leave your abused clit, but any form of recuperation you could get is stolen by the way both his veiny hands grip your hips and his manhood invades your cunny, intent on staking its claim.

He grunts as he looks down at your helpless form. He does nothing but use you for his pleasure and he cares little of whether or not your pretty pussy will tighten and quiver around him again.

Otto rubs your bum then coats his thumb with your slick before pushing it into your vacant rear, enough to hook into you and to make you squeal.

Soon enough, he can feel his legs ache and his belly burn. He ignores the former and his energy is sustained by the promise of filling his shaking bride with his come and watching it drip out of her.

Otto is silent while you noisily protest beneath him. Just as he begins to feel his balls tighten, he feels your cunt squeeze him again. Your neck strains as he bends down to lean into you, "take it, come slut. You know want you want to."

"S't-too much," you whine, tears rolling down your face.

Otto could not care less and begins to rub your clit again. You scream out in response and it's enough to make him reach his peak.

He slams into you with no steady tempo. He cares only for the pleasure raging on his cock and wants only to empty his balls into his warm, raggedly bride. As he does just that, feeling come and sweat drip from your garment to the sheet, he takes a few more thrusts, shallow ones where he does not move out of you very much, to ensure he thoroughly stuff all his heated lust into you.

And ever the dutiful husband, he plays with your clit for as long as it takes to make you scream and spasm into another pretty peak.

Your nose is running as you sob, but the twist of your expression tells him that you were enjoying every second of it. He laughs, deeply, contentedly, pinning you against him and the bed. He doesn't listen to you until he is more than assured every bit of pleasure is wrung out of your darling body.

You begin to whine again like the tearful babe you were. You whisper an exhausted plea, "please, no more, Otto. Please."

He shushes you and pinches your clit, just to see you flinch and hear you beg some more. And beg you do, "n-no more, please," through sniffles.

He grips your jaw and kisses your salty cheek. He pulls you both to your sides, unwilling to pull out just yet. He has to ascertain his seed catches in your snug womb. He massages your breasts, imagining them get bigger for the babe he fucked into you. He pinches your nipples, making you whine again.

"O-Otto-"

"All is well, wife," he mutters, releasing his hold, only because you pushed his hand away. You lean into him as he rubs your belly. He rubs your nape with his nose, "good girl."

[cheekylittlepupp]

[kokillchi]

head empty. no thoughts. only jamie bower

[melikedraw]

Jim Hawkins headcanon:

His love language is words of affirmation

He cannot function w/o you telling him that you love him and he's very important to you. However if you forget to give him his daily affirmations, he's not gonna be mad, I think he'll be even more affectionate, and try to get it out of you. He'll probably be more clingy and not leave your side until you say something that reassures him that you still love him

He's a sad lil man with abandonment issues tell him you love him (this is a threat)

He's just scared that he's not good enough so please tell him that he is

I want to hold him so bad you have no idea

[annamatix]

i love nash hawthorne so much its so crazy.

" 'Course not, darlin', " FUCK. MEEEEEEEEEE

he's so so so hot the way he's so gentle and caring and so protective YOU JUST HAVE TO READ THE SERIES TO GET ME

his southern drawl is SO hot and his idgaf agenda but he cares so much actually AND HIS COWBOY HAT AND BOOTS OH MY GOD IM FAINTING and when he gets mad his southern drawl becomes sharper and and and and

"'Nash, I've taken the liberty of cueing up the Taylor Swift for you,' Xander says." JUST AS I THOUGHT THIS MAN COULD NOT GET HOTTER.......

"she gazed up at him like he had hung the moon" me too, mellie, me too

"Nash has a sort of savior complex" well he better use it to save me ASAP

team jameson this team grayson that GIVE ME NASH HAWTHORNE

[piplup235]

Head empty save for thoughts of a certain fictional dragon man. I have poured. Nearly 1180 hours of my life into genshin since last summer. I don't regret a goddamn thing, tbh half of that is me logging in just to look at my amassed ongoing collection of hot men. I can't help it that one look at this particular dragon man i immediately puddle.

[lunatic-pudge]

Casually looking through the TF2 blog to see if I can find something interesting, and I did. And yes, it does involve dear Sniper cause he is my wife.

So we start off with some basic goofy stuff. But the caption for the warning headshot sign.

You mean to tell me that one random day, Sniper saw this sign, got SO offended that the city was basically calling his stank ass out, and decided that he was gonna spend WEEKS, probably even months, just calling City Hall to bitch about it.

I wanna see how that played out. I wanna see him fuming at the payphone while the workers at the City Hall are thinking, "This guy again?" Plz. It's so funny to me.

Oh, and here's the rest of the post and a Jarate poster as well cause why not.

Stinky piss man has me in an absolute chokehold

[urmelodysblog]

Sex with bf!Jay

I tried writing smth else for jay and I just couldn't stop thinking abt this☠️

✿Smut and fluff✿

🌷Contains swearing as well🌷

Plot: All the things jay loves about you during sex, and jay being down bad for reader ♥︎

Jay loved seeing your gorgeous little face scrunch up with pleasure as he fucked you, while you layed flat on your back. He loved giving his sweet baby little praises on how well she's taking his cock, "your taking my dick so well, angel". He loved how your boobs bounced when you'd ride him, he loved the way you'd whine about how you were tired and wanted him to fuck you , he loved your cute little gasp when he suddenly thrust up into you. He loved making sweet love to you while he mumbled "I love yous" in between kisses. You were so perfect. Everything about you was perfect, your body, your personality. Jay was so down bad for you and he knew it, but he didn't give a flying fuck, cuz why should he when he has someone as perfect as you in his life. 🥹

[zandiiangelspit]

Here I come~

I told myself... I was done with Overwatch.... but... they keep... tempting me back...

[elysianwayy77]

I finished reading games untold like the day before yesterday and I squeal everytime grayson was mentioned or anytime he would say something like YES HANDSOME ANYTHING ELSE?

[crispfried]

"Not every man-" You're right, Vash the Stampede would never do this.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Make You Mine

You make a mess out of everything and your husband makes a mess out of you.

Otto Hightower x Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, menace to society!otto, smut (cunnilingus, overstimulation), fluff ig?, typos, etc.

A/N: madison beer ahh title. i just want this old man to fuck me so i dont think of anything else. IM SORRY I HAVE NOT PROOFREAD THIS FILTH I HAVE TO GO TO WORK ILL COME BACK TO IT edit: i was too hasty and it didnt post before i left anyway goodnight manila. This is part of my birthday haberdashery

"Lord Hand."

Otto, with his clenched jaw, looks up from his desk upon hearing the door open. Whatever anger he wished to spit out fades when he sees your face. He releases the papers in his hands, the line between his brows softens. He mutters, "Lady Hightower."

He leans back as you walk over. You link your fingers behind you. When you bite your lip, he knows exactly why your here. Still, he asks, "what can I do for you?"

"Do not be cross," you mutter.

He chuckles under his breath. He spreads his legs, eager to play your game, "do not delay then."

His smile slowly flattens when you rapidly ramble. The truth is, your voice is so high pitched and frantic he can hardly make out a word that you were saying. Then of course, you had to start getting teary and eyed.

"Enough," he mutters.

You do not hear him. You are far to upset by the errors you say you've done that you cannot think of anything else.

Otto speaks your name. And again. Finally, he shouts it.

You jolt, clutching your heart.

He sighs and leans into his hand when your lower lip begins to wobble. He places the same hand on his lap, "come."

You mumble, "you are cross."

"I am not cross."

"You shouted at me."

"You would not listen-"

"I did not mean to-"

Otto silences you by raising a finger.

You gulp and hold your breath. You begin to chew on your lip until it feels sore.

"Come," your husband repeats, "do not actually make me cross by repeating myself."

You release a breath and walk towards him. You sit on his lap, and he immediately wraps an arm around your belly, pulling your back flush against his chest. He brushes his nose against your neck. He inhales your scent and kisses your skin, "now, from the start. What unpardonable crime has my foolish wife committed again?"

You sigh when he kisses the tears off your cheeks. A line forms on forehead as you turn to him to whisper, "do not be cross."

He makes a sound akin to a purr or a growl, "I shall be what I ought to be upon hearing your confession."

You deflate, lowering your head in defeat, "I..." you sniffle, "I... was... embroidering a pattern on one of your worn shirts... I ended up making a new hole."

Otto hums, "mmm. Flogging might be sufficient punishment."

You groan and turn to him.

He raises a brow.

"I am serious, husband."

"As am I," he responds, brushing your hair back, "darling wife." He nods, "continue."

You look away and begin rubbing your hands, "I know you've told not to... but I fixed the papers you left in our chambers. I thought I did them to your taste, but then... I saw some correspondents were out of order and-"

"You stacked my papers out of order," Otto sighs, grabbing your hand, "meddlers lose their fingers, did you know? Your offence will cost you eleven, girl."

You turn back to him, the line between your brows deeper than before.

"Continue," he says, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

You pull your hand away and clench your jaw, "Otto."

"Is that al-"

"I spilled wine on your papers!" you blurt, eyes immediately watering, "I spilled your wine as I fixed them, and I tried to get them dry, but then I burnt them, and I tried rewriting what I could remember but I could barely remember what I saw and-

"That's enough."

You clench your jaw at the stern sound of his voice. You muster weakly, "forgive me. I did not mean it-"

"If I left it at our chambers, it was nothing of note," Otto explains, hands resting on your hips.

"But-"

"Do think me so reckless?"

You look at him with your beady eyes before turning away.

"You insult me by believing me thoughtless of my work."

You sigh, turning to him again, "I did not say that."

"Still, here I'm sat, offended," he tilts his head.

You chew your lower lip. Your heart quickens when he squeezes you and he leans in.

"And as Lord Hand, I must exact justice and punish you for it," he mutters against your nape, "on the desk."

You wordlessly stand and lean your hands on his desk.

Otto takes a moment to examine your swift obedience but then he clicks his tongue, "face me, foolish girl."

And so you do. It's slightly challenging, considering Otto did not offer you any space to do so, but you manage. You lean back on your bum and your nails dig into the edge of his wooden desk.

Finally, Otto moves back, chair skidding along with him. He rises to his full height only to drop to his knees. Your stomach instantly rolls, knowing exactly what your punishment will be. You reach for his face, "Otto, ple-"

"Mmm, I do so love it when you beg," he bunches your skirts up, "but it will not save you from my mouth, darling."

You can do nothing but watch and shiver as he rids you of all the fabrics that would hinder his lips from meeting yours. You have to shove your finger against your teeth to stop yourself from making the noises that threatened to rip out of you.

Your body is rigid and unyielding as your husband slots himself between your legs. Your toes curl as you try to find your footing, but then his hand comes to your belly and he pushes you back, urging you to sit back. The desk skids slightly at the force.

Your mouth drops as you sit yourself on his desk. Your expression twists and an guttural sound rips from your throat when he lifts your legs and drapes it on his shoulders.

You scratch down his scalp and tangle your fingers into his hair. He moans when you begin tugging at his roots. His hot hands trail up to the most sensitive part of you. You nearly fall back when he squeezes your inner thighs before parting them.

His tongue for easier access this way. Soon, he could feel a mix slick and dribble streaming down his chin. The combined heat of his breath and brush of his nose against your clit made your skin feel like it was on fire. His nails bite in your flesh and his teeth give you the faintest of grazes. His cheeks brush against you and the feel of his fear against your sensitive skin only heighten your arousal.

With all the combined sensations, it's not long until you reach your peak. You cannot sustain any form of silence as searing pleasure seizes your body.

Otto wrings out every shiver and every moan. He drinks in every drop of nectar you offer him and hungers to take in more. He does not relent until your noises sound weary. Just as you feared, he pushes your thighs apart when you try closing them.

You whine and yank at his hair. Failed attempts of asking for respite leave your lips. You gulp and sigh, "Otto-" but you only end up squealing when he begins prodding you deeper with his tongue.

Peak after peak washes over you until you're breathless and delirious. You melt against the desk, no longer able to keep yourself upright. You are left spineless and dumb. You don't even know how many times he makes you come with his tongue, but you do know you cannot possibly come another time.

But he makes you, so you do, and you can do nothing but whine about it as tears fog your eyes.

You are so out of it that when a knock comes upon the door, only Otto hears it. He lifts his head from your thighs, face glistening with slick.

You gulp and breath in a sigh of relief, weakly lifting your head up at the sight of him. Your mind is hazy, and gods you were exhausted, but you could not deny the way your stomach rolled at sight of his face, beard all wet with you.

The knock comes again, and this time a voice follows, "Lord Hand?"

"What is it?" the Hand snaps, evidently irritated.

The man behind the front door hesitates, fidgeting with the letter in his hand, "I have a correspondence from-"

"Is it important?" Otto snaps once more.

"Quite."

"..."

"..."

"My lord. Shall I g-"

"Come in."

The door to the office of the Hand opens. The man holding the letter beholds the Hightowers— Otto's eyes are fixed on his wife who was stood before him. You are wiping his beard with a handkerchief. The Lord's hands are fixed on your waist as he mutters something.

Very quickly the man realizes he's interrupted something.

"Important?" Otto turns to him, softened features immediately hardening. He reaches a hand out.

You swipe off the remaining sheen on your husband's chin before pulling away.

The man hands Otto the letter, "from the Lannisters."

Otto rolls his eyes, taking the letter before turning back to you, "we will finish this later. I expect you to serve me my dessert at supper."

You clear your throat but it does not stop the way your face burns, so you turn to your feet.

Your husband grabs your hand when you try to walk off without a response. He raises his brows at you, "yes?"

You clench you jaw and nod slowly, "of course, my lord."

Otto kisses the back of your hand before releasing you.

[shoyoackerman]

No cause maybe im down bad for my own mc shes so prety and for what? Like damn I KNOW I MADE HER BUT STILL. I get why the boys be drooling over her bc same. But i really do love the customisation we can do for her! Genuinely best otome game out here right now. Especially with how generous they are with their gifts and rewards. Genshin could never

[astraykiel]

—Cade

[melikedraw]

Holy crap guys he's coming out of the screen to get his wife (me) I need him to take me away I can't with real life anymore

He's so baby he's so loml real

Love him. Now. This is a threat.