#sin bin.

[endlcssdesiire]

The Red Lingerie Set | Mason Alexander Park Accumulated from the corners of Pinterest into one spot.

[uglypastels]

Logan x reader where the reader is scott's younger sister and they're in a secret relationship because she's younger/obviously doesn't want her brother to know. Maybe Scott tries to set her up with someone else or she gets hurt on a mission or something because she got too cocky and everything comes to the surfaces. Sorry I know that's now very descriptive🙈

no don't be sorry this was perfect, if not giving me too much to word with lol. this is so great I wasn't really sure how to incorporate all the elements, but I hope what I managed to do was still good. I certainly had a lot of fun writing it lol. also, apologies if there are some dumb mistakes/errors. i am so sleep deprived but just really wanted to post this before going to bed.

warning: Smut 18+ only. MDNI. no condom [wrap it before you tap it pls]. p in v. fingering. swearing. degradation ["slut" is used]. accidentally almost public stuff. quickie. sub/dom dynamic. un/intentional cockblocking.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as Logan pressed you against the wall of the small janitor’s closet. It was too cliché to even think about it. And who would have ever expected the Academy to have a janitor’s closet? If you thought about it, it was almost as if the universe wanted you to take this opportunity and hook up with him in the little cubby.

The second you saw him that morning in his loose-fitted long-sleeve and those boot-cut jeans, the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day was how much you needed him. You had managed to survive past noon, and then you had to go and stumble into the garage and catch him working on his motorbike.

His long-sleeve was discarded to reveal the white, now slightly dirty, tank top. His arms were toned and tanned. You watched him just long enough for him to notice your presence, then to grab the towel hanging from his back pocket and wipe his hands clean. 

‘C’mere, Princess,’ he called you over with two fingers, and you almost felt like you had gained the ability to float so quickly had you made your way over to him. Next thing you know, he had picked you up, his hands firmly on your ass, yours in his hair, and your lips colliding in a passionate crash of a kiss. 

‘Fuck, I missed this,’ you moaned out in a desperate moment to catch a breath with your chest already heaving. ‘Missed you.’ You kissed the corner of his mouth, getting the most satisfaction at how a smile formed in the spot where your lips touched him. Neither of you could help yourselves. The urges you felt were nearly animalistic, but when you were around him, you also felt like you were up in the clouds, feeling light as a feather and giddy like an idiot. The need for him was coursing through your veins. 

‘Mmm, I know, sugar,’ his voice came deep from his throat in a growl full of yearning. ‘Gonna let me have my way with you, yeah?’

All you could respond with was a desperate moan. So caught up in the delicious feeling of his body against yours, that you nearly missed the beeping announcement of the garage doors opening. You would have gone on unaware of anything going on around you if it wasn’t for Logan pulling away and setting you back on the ground. It was like a switch flipped on inside your brain, and just in time, as the doors opened and a car drove up as you took your precautionary steps away from Logan, who had gone back to working on his bike. 

The car halted in its designated parking spot, and you weren’t surprised to find your older brother, Scott, stepping out of it. Only he would have such perfectly unfortunate timing.

‘Hi Scott,’ you tried to sound chipper about bumping into him, and absolutely not like he had just interrupted a much-needed make-out session with your boyfriend that he knew nothing about. How you had managed to keep it a secret for all these months, you had no idea. 

‘Hey,’ he smiled politely you way, as he had already made his way to the exit. As always, you couldn’t see his eyes through the red glasses he wore, and yet you could tell exactly where he was looking at with that judgemental look of his. But Logan didn’t pay him any attention, which might have even been the bigger insult than if he had quipped something your brother’s way. You knew he wanted to, though, but you also knew that he didn’t want to insult your brother right in front of you. 

You waited for Scott to walk out of the room, but to your surprise, your brother turned around to you. ‘Are you coming?’

‘She was about to.’ You heard Logan mumble under his breath as he… You weren’t sure what exactly he was doing with that bike with the screwdriver. You never understood much of mechanics.

‘Uhm, yeah,’ you responded, ‘I uhh– I just wanted to ask Logan something. I’ll just be a moment.’

‘No, I’ll see you later, bub,’ Logan caught you off guard. ‘This might still take a while and I don’t want to keep you waiting.’

‘Oh, ok.’ You pushed the disappointment off your face before you started walking to the exit where Scott stood, still none the wiser. As soon as you walked into the corridor, you made up an excuse to go the other way and walked as fast as you could without making it necessarily suspicious if he had glanced your way.

The hours that followed went by painfully slow. You kept your eye out for Logan, but he was nowhere to be seen all afternoon. Dinner had come and gone, and you were returning to your room, already having made your peace with the fact that today was simply one of those days where fate kept you apart.

And exactly at that moment, Logan turned the corner.

‘Where the hell were you all day?’ you questioned, annoyed, but no matter how angry you pretended to be, the grin on your face at the sight of your boyfriend was quite clear in meaning.

‘I did have stuff to finish on my bike.’ He took a few large strides your way, ‘and then some kids needed help with something.’

‘Aww, that’s sweet.’ You leaned into him, your chin on his chest, as you looked up into his eyes.

‘Don’t act too surprised, Princess.’ His arms immediately wove themselves around your waist, and you slowly leaned for a kiss. It was risky to do this in an open hallway where anyone could walk in, but in the moment, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to feel him, all over you. The desperation for it grew with each second and was ready to explode. 

That was all in theory, of course, since as soon as you heard any threat, the risk-taking daredevil part of you immediately hid, and you were looking for an escape route. It was two pairs of footsteps this time that echoed through the hallways. You cursed under your breath. 

Just your luck to be standing next to a door. Trying its limits again, you pulled down at the door handle and sighed with relief as it opened. You quickly slipped inside, pulling Logan in behind you by the hand. He closed the door back behind him just in time as the footsteps, which you now recognised to be Scott and Jean’s, along with their voices, moved across the spot where you had just been standing.

‘Are they—’ but your question never was finished, as your lips were caught in a haste kiss. It was pitch black in the tiny room, but you heard Logan pull the lightbulb cord. The next thing you know, the faint yellow light illuminated what you now recognised to be the janitor’s cubby. A closet large enough to fit a large shelfcase filled with cleaning products, buckets, and towels. But Logan needed no time to orientate himself. He was already all over you. One hand pinning your leg up against his upper thigh, leading you against the wall. 

‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as you felt the pressure and structure of the room against your shoulders, Logan’s chest against yours. His hand stroke up and down your leg, squeezing at the soft flesh of your ass.

‘Wanna be my good little girl?’ Logan growled into your ear.

‘Yes,’ you whined, desperate for more than just his kiss. ‘Fuck, yes.’

‘Want me to fuck your tight little pussy, sugar? Just like you’ve been begging me for? What you say, you little slut?’ At the sound of his words, all of yours simply escaped you and so you could only respond in a series of moans and whines. All sounds that brought Logan immense joy and arousal. ‘Yeah, thought so.’ It had been a very conscious choice you had made that morning by wearing a skirt. Not that you had expected to end the day in this closet, but you were sure it would end somewhere in Logan’s grip. And so you were fully prepared. 

His fingers smoothed over your panties, pressing over your slit, feeling the material get soaked through just that one simple touch. But it wasn’t enough. For either you or him. He kept toying with you for a few more minutes, never crossing the material barrier of your underwear, long strokes up and down, pushing in closer, almost as if nothing was there to separate you. 

‘Please,’ you cried out, ‘baby, please. I need–’

‘What do you need, sweetheart? C’mon, use your words?’ God, you hated when he got so cocky. You could never take much of his teasing. Then again, you weren’t in here to exactly last long. 

‘Need your fingers. Please.’ 

‘Good girl,’ he kissed your forehead, snapped the band of your underwear to make you whine so prettily as he loved, and pulled the panties down your legs. 

Another filthy moan left you as his fingers slowly filled you up. The expletives rolled off your tongue in the rhythm of his thrusts. He kept a steady pace, and one that left you shaking against him. So much so that soon enough, he had to hold you up by the arm, pinning you down even harder. One leg propped up high for even easier access to his favourite part of you. 

‘Such a good slut, taking anything I give you, anywhere I want you.’ His voice could practically get you over the edge alone, and he knew that well enough on his own, and so he kept talking. ‘Can’t wait to get my hard cock in you, Princess. Gonna fill you up so good. Fuck. Just you wait—’

‘No, please,’ you cried out.

‘What’s that? My girl can’t wait a few more minutes for her cock?’ He kissed your neck so ferociously it was more like his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, and the sensation left shivers down your whole body. He raised his mouth up to directly speak against your ear.

‘So fucking desperate. Wish you could see yourself now. Just know you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?’ He punctuated the question with one final deep thrust of his large fingers. ‘You gonna cum? No, no, no. Not yet. You’re gonna let me have my fun first, isn’t that right?’

‘Yes.’ was all you managed to say. Then his lips clashed with yours in another of your sloppy kisses. Your hands found themselves in his hair for the second time that day, and you already felt yourself falling into bliss, and that was all without even the feeling of his length finally pushing deep in you. If only you could scream the pleasure you felt. But for now, in the closet, you would make due by digging your nails into his shoulder. That, in turn, only got Logan more riled up as his thrust grew in pace. He hit all your right spots evenly, hard and deep. If he kept going like that, and you were sure he would, you didn’t know just how much longer you would last.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna–’ your voice was breathy and out of focus, as all that was on your mind was him inside you. 

‘Yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, come for me. Come all over my cock.’ he growled the words with the same intensity and desperation for release you felt.

You were so close. Just ready to burst. Moment away when—

When suddenly, a knock on the other side of the door halted the both of you. In a sudden moment, everything washed away with the power of a tsunami. Leaving nothing behind but emptiness.

Someone cleared their throat. Someone who you could already recognise from that simple gesture. 

‘Alright, it’s past curfew, lovebirds, knock it out.’ You could hear in your brother’s voice just how uncomfortable he was by catching two, what he assumed to be students, clearly hooking up. Your guess was that the room had not been as soundproof as you imagined a cubby to be. Or you were that much louder. 

You looked up at Logan, who had already started zipping up his jeans. There was another firm knock on the door.

Well, if Scott had already felt embarrassed, you were about to make it ten times worse.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[wisteriagoesvroom]

dressing up

🍊🟠 a landoscar fic 👗in which lando gets railed in a dress 📝 7.5k words, rated E 🔗 read on ao3 (archive locked)

preview:

“This itches,” Lando adds in the silence, mouth twisting. His face is warm with nerves or arousal. Perhaps both. Lando self-consciously scratches his neck. “If you’re just gonna stand there, by the way, then we might as well play FIFA for real.” “Come here,” Oscar mumbles. “Oh, finally. Like you didn’t—” Lando cannot finish his sentence, because Oscar closes the gap in about four steps, and kisses him furiously. Kisses him like he wants to suck all the air out of the room and Lando’s embarrassment with it, because there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Because it’s Lando, a vision, a wrong that is so right that he can’t find it in himself to feel ashamed about any of it. He hadn’t even thought about Lando in a dress before, but Lando of course had been resourceful enough to acquire the dress, stress test the theory, and now here they were.

[thurio-edau]

on impel down rn. can someone to explain me,

why the fuck,

THEY OILED THIS MANS UP???

WHERE IS THE GREASY BASTARD OF ALABASTA ???? THIS UGLY FUCKER ?????

WHY DID YALL DO THAT BRO. THAT IS A COMPLETE VIOLATION

[thigh-inspectors]

[forbidden-sin-bin]

By Your Side - Chapter 3

Summary: Only appearing as a mere background extra a few times, your hopes of landing a large enough role to be truly seen dwindles by the minute. In the midst of the long wait, you bury yourself in being the hardest working part-time barista the café has to offer.

Oh, and say hello to your new manager, who’s also working hard to make ends meet.

---

August 27, 1997

---

Brushing your apron smooth, you made your way to the cash register with a your usual practiced smile. "Welcome to the Tango Palace. What can I get you today?"

The welcoming expression on your face was far from the reality of your situation right now. And boy, it was bad.

Ever since the trip from New York feeling like a success, the days of receiving nothing but silence on your end slowly melted into creeping disappointment. Waiting by the phone for hours on end, all for nothing, the day wasted.

And it wasn't just the callback that you were waiting for: you had dozens of tryouts in the race against many others - improvs, scripts, interviews, singing, even a literal hand evaluation - in order to take that one and only spot of being chosen.

Though your parents were always happy whenever you landed a spot as an extra in the background of a single scene, be it movie or tv show, it did nothing to quell the shot-through nerves of wondering if the agency would ever give you an update on that callback you did.

At this point, nearing the new school year for Quinn's first year of kindergarten was the only silver lining in all of this. No doubt, you were proud, but it was bittersweet seeing them grow so fast. It seemed as if it were only yesterday that you had brought him home from the hospital, and in a blink he's walking, talking and ready to learn how to read.

In fact, you were so lost in reminiscing you nearly missed your customer's order.

Realizing you may or may not have zoned out for a second too long, you mentally slapped yourself as you quickly typed out the order. "S-sorry! Was it a regular coffee, one cream, no sugar?"

"And a quiche." Your customer sighed. "Jesus Christ..."

You nodded as you forced down your panic and irritation at the backhanded comment, giving them the total as you set the register to print out the receipt. "Alright, it'll only take a second." Whipping around, you set to work on pouring out a steaming hot cup of coffee, freshly brewed, and placing a pre-prepared veggie quiche out of the fridge and into the oven, dialing the settings to heat it just right.

Holding back your own sigh, you leaned back on the countertop as you waited. Truth be told, you weren't sure if the thought of getting fired was more stressful, or the thought of becoming a good-for-nothing that's entirely possible in the near future was worse. Either way, you couldn't lose this job.

The owners were kind enough, and business wasn't overly crowded with people, but you wanted to show them that hiring you was the best decision they could've made. Thinking about anything that isn't the job is the complete opposite of what you're trying to prove.

'Don't think of anything but what's in front of you, right now.'

---

Later that evening...

---

You tossed each letter onto the table in two separate piles; One for bills, the other for junk mail. After an uneventful day of serving customers, you returned home as always, filtering out the mail for your parents before they came home.

It wouldn't be long before the school year started, and you'd have to cut your hours in order to pick Quinn up from school, elsewise he'd be stuck in the after-care program till six, which wasn't fair for him at all.

It wasn't as if your family was poor or in debt, rather down on its luck. Your parents working at desk jobs required them to be there from at least nine to five, there was little to no time to take a break, especially now that they're not just working to keep the house afloat; If all else failed, you'd have to pick a course and go through community college just to get some degree that'll help you find a job that pays.

A part of you feared that you'd be kicked out eventually, which terrified your thoughts of not being able to take care of Quinn. And not being able to take care of Quinn means you're probably getting kicked out of the house like every other parent does to their kid that doesn't deliver.

Alright, that last part is debatable. But it’s possible, and you weren’t taking any chances.

And by not taking any chances, you sure as hell weren’t about to let the phone ring twice as you practically leaped over the kitchen table to pick it up.

"Hi! Hello?! Sorry- hello?"

"H-hello? Hi, is this-?" A stressed voice stutters out your first and last name.

Your face, initially bright with hope fell comically quick as you realized it wasn't an agency calling you for a role. Instead, a somewhat nervous voice of a young man answered. From how he sounded you could tell he was sweating bullets coming out of the other side of the phone.

"Yes, hi. That would be correct." You replied, not bothering to hide your deadpan shift in mood. This however didn't seem to phase the stranger.

"Oh, great! I saw your resume sent in to my agency, and I see you're looking for an agent to represent you in the coming years? Hopefully trying to find work?"

A few seconds of silence passed as you processed his response. 'Oh shoot, they actually remembered?' You thought with wide eyes.

"He-hello?"

"Yep, still on the line. May I ask who's calling?"

"Sean Warden. Sorry I should've introduced myself at the start but-"

You cut him off. "All good. And to answer your question: Yes. I'm in need of assistance in receiving job offers. Is that sufficient?"

"Awesome. So, the reason I'm calling you right now is because I have a proposition to offer you."

Again, silence, as if he was awaiting a reaction out of you. You however, had already begun to lose patience. "...Please continue." You held back a sigh, beginning to wonder if this is some sort of prank call or scam caller.

Still, this 'Sean' guy seemed either desperate or eager as he revealed his intention.

"I would like to represent you as your agent."

...

A few hours later...

...

"I'm going to be honest with you: This is not how I expected a potential signing of a client to look like."

Sitting inside a Tim Horton's café, coffee cups in hand, you found yourself sitting at a two-person table with a young, skittish and scrawny looking man in his mid to late twenties. Admittedly, this isn't the kind of guy you'd expect to meet.

Sharing an awkward silence, both of you holding small black coffees, neither of you had the gall to break the painful, painful silence. At least, until you've finished reading the whole entire contract that he gave you.

Given you're in the middle of the second page out of... eight, this was going to be a long evening.

Flicking your gaze at him for a brief glance away from your reading, you saw no impatience, only anxiousness, in his face. "Sorry if I'm taking up your time." You offered, figuring it'd be the least you could do for someone who hasn't been pushing your buttons.

Sean waves you off. "No need, I'm just happy you've agreed to even see me. I'll take anything, really."

You raised a brow. 'Anything, he says.' Your thoughts wandered away to making it seem as if you weren't the first option of employment, probably the last.

"O-oh, no no nonono, I didn't mean it like that!" He corrects himself, probably noticing or fearing that he might've made you reconsider signing that contract. "I mean- like-" He sighs, covering his face with a hand, filled with stress. "Don't get me wrong, I absolutely wanted to pick you as a client. I've seen your resume and everything; I can see the potential you have, I mean it."

Nodding, you resumed scanning the papers. "Continue. I'm listening, don't worry." Seeing that he hadn't missed his shot, he relaxed a little.

"I'm not trying to sell a sob story, it's just the truth. As you may know, the work I do is to find others work; Aspiring actors, music artists, the like? I'm no beginner to this, I've had many clients in the past and I haven't failed finding them jobs. But when there's older, more experienced agents... Well, you'd want to be represented by them more than me."

You hummed in acknowledgement, not taking your eyes off the contract as you flipped to page 3.

"My last three clients have all decided to move on to find a more renowned agency, meaning that as of now, I've no one to find work for, which also means my wages are little to none at the moment." Sean finished, clasping his hands together and resting them on the table, looking down as he finished. "What I'm offering you right now isn't the end all, be all. I promise you, regardless of what's going on in my personal and home life, I'll give it my all to find you what you need." It almost sounds like a plead, coming from him. "If you end up parting ways with me in the future, that's more than okay! It's just... please. Give me this chance to help you out."

Finally, you raised your head to look at him. Keeping your face neutral, you finally spoke after a few moments:

"Could you do something for me, if I do sign?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah, of course! What is it?"

Taking sip of your coffee first, you then reached into your bag and handed him your notebook. Well, one of many... but you knew this one had something you were looking for, and you couldn't reach it by yourself.

Flipping through to the page you wanted him to see, you slid the notebook over too him. "There's someone I know that's been looking to release an EP this year... probably this year, I don't know exactly. Problem is, you can't find their stuff here, only in Detroit. Think you could help me out?"

"Can I?" He almost laughed in relief. "Say no more." Scanning the written contact info that wasn't written in your hand, you watched as he holds the notebook closer to his face as something flickers across his expression. "Hold on a second..." First starting from genuine interest slowly melted to confusion, then familiarity.

You raised a brow. "Is everything alright?"

Suddenly, Sean's gray eyes widened in recognition, and indignation.

"OH, NOT THAT BALD-HEADED BASTARD?!"

...

....

.....

A few weeks later...

...

"OH, NOT THAT SMUG FUCKIN TWINK."

Marshall's head snapped up from writing another let of lyrics as he looked at his recently-signed agent, Paul. "The fuck you goin on about man?"

Holding the letter in his hands, Paul looked like he was glaring daggers into the paper. "Not you! It's this guy that I knew from law school, fucking annoying is what he was." Tossing the paper to his table, he sighed as he walked out of the room. "Take a look if you want, apparently his client claims to know you or something. They're waiting for your EP."

'How the hell'd they know already, this fuckin early?' Marshall picked up the paper, lazily scanning through the content that somehow got Paul pissed enough to take a hike. The signed name of the writer, Sean Warden, didn't ring any bells except the one labelled: 'white guy's name', if it wasn't obvious enough.

No one here would name their kid Sean, for fucks sake.

The name of his client however... slowly, but eventually remembering that day they met, even if it was only for a few minutes, was not forgotten on either of them, it seems.

Marshall huffed out a laugh.

"Hoooooooly fuckin shit. That bitch actually did it."

----

(End of Chapter 3)

----

A/N: HAPPY 1 YEAR AND... *checks calendar* NEARLY THREE MONTHS Y'ALL

Yep.

I think you already know I'm about to apologize again, so uhh... I'm extremely, very sorry? If any of you are still waiting I'm incredibly sorry for the long ass wait. I said previously it was all uphill from here, which was a LIE IT SEEMS

But just to make it up to you all... Chapter 4 is coming THIS WEEK. So there's something to look forward too I hope! Chapter 5 is coming a few weeks after as well. But I hope this suffices for now, thank you for your patience <3

Taglist: @eminemsorangejuice , @slimshay-castle , @jackiehollanderr , @mizzysx , @esposadomd , @dimitrampl , @hallecarey1 , @krillfromsky , @nabiiturner, @swimregulas , @olivesarenicetoeat17 , @linnottt​ , @harryswif3 , @liathelioness , @roundbrownlover​ , @crimsonincursive , @akemiixx01 , @lizzy06 , @chxe-zdechnac , @ellies-femme , @qwerrry , @born2wyn , @thefemalestorywriter , @milllieeee , @neozen-23 , @in0320

(Let me know in my ask box if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

[hockeytown-gifs]

Standing Room Only - Wings vs Devils - Oct. 24, 2024

[ficfuker]

going down on gee in his short secretary skirt, crouched between his legs as he lays wringing his hands in his skirt. he's half on the couch, his head slipping down the arm rest. you tease fingertips along his stockings, the hot skin at the bare tops of his thighs rubbing against your ear. taking him deep and slow, sucking softly, tasting the nuttiness at his tip, letting his precome and your spit run down his length. the smell of his sweat, the rubbery elastic of his stockings, the old sweet fabric smell of the upholstery. the breathy sound he makes as he watches you, the heavy drag of your gaze scraping up his taut body and you groan at the shaking press of his hands at your neck, your shoulders, the couch. he makes a desperate cut-off noise when the cold air touches him as you briefly pull off to rub your mouth at his pubic bone and hips, lightly brushing your hand against his balls. you feel his whole body melt then tense again when you take his cock back into your mouth. sliding your hands up and under his rumpled shirt, rolling his peaked nipples in your fingers, he shoves his flushed pink face into the arm rest, a broken moan pushed into his shaggy hair. the rough scratch of clothes against couch as he arches up into your touch, pressing his ass back into the seat cushions. the wet sound your mouth makes, your hands move around to his back pressing up as you slide them down his spine, then snake back to his hips. his searching hands find your upper arms and hold on tight, you know he's so close, his red bitten lips. at the sight of his dropped open mouth and scrunched up eyebrows, you grunt a muffled sound, making his hips lurch and kick up slightly like it got away from him, then fully as you press down further encouragingly and try to swallow around him. he curls forward suddenly, leaning into you, spluttering a high pitched "i, i-i'm-" and chokes out a shocked gasp as he shudders and comes, flooding your mouth with bitter, salty heat as you slowly, firmly jack him through it. unsteadily, he starts to lean back to look at you and cup your face shining with a light sweat. you press one of your hands over his, making him feel himself through your hot damp cheeks still hard in your mouth. you lock eyes and keep sucking, breathing sharply through your nose. his eyes widen and he flutters his hands around, almost panicked like he doesn't know what to do, scrabbling to grab on to you before letting out a loud string of wordless moans, as you bob up and down on his cock you gather the spit and come that's escaped your mouth in your fingers. trailing your slick fingers down to his asshole, you begin to smear them making him draw in a loud gasp and immediately let it back out in a long reedy groan, as you gently press in. his cock keeps twitching and leaking, he bears down on your fingers with a guttural "fuck yeah..oh, fuck me". you hook your fingers and press up until you find a spot that makes him yelp and shove his hips forward. after that it doesn't take much, just a few more moans in your throat as you begin sucking harder and faster, relentlessly rubbing into his prostate before he comes again on a raspy scream that starts and stops a few times. you pull up finally and swallow a bit, letting his come dribble down your chin and onto your tits as you catch your breath. he slurs "ohmygod", sloppily pulling you up and towards him, his face totally fucked out. you gaze down into his sweaty hair, carding your fingers through it. he takes your nipple in his mouth, just lapping, really before he licks up gathering himself off your chest. lightly pulling on his hair, you tilt his head up and he stretches to lick into your mouth, tasting more of himself. he breaks off, panting "i taste so good on you".

[praetorqueenreyna]

Nyx had never been to Spring before. He alighted just inside the border, staring wide-eyed at the lush green foliage. He had taken no more than a dozen steps when the ground began to shake. Out from the trees emerged an enormous beast with sharp teeth and antlers. It charged him, and despite himself he lost his nerve and stumbled backwards. His ankle caught on a root and he fell, sprawling back on his ass and landing painfully on his wings. The beast surged upwards as if to leap upon him and tear out his throat. Nyx flinched and closed his eyes in anticipation of the killing blow. When it didn’t come, he looked. Where the beast had been now stood the male that had haunted his familys’ stories for the past century. The High Lord of Spring was tall, even more so when one was on the ground. The most exquisite yellow hair he had ever seen spilled down across the High Lord’s shoulders and back, reaching to his waist. His emerald eyes were hard. “Go home,” he rumbled in a voice that shook leaves from the branches above them. Nyx cleared his throat. “High Lord Tamlin. I am—” I know who you are.” A shiver went down Nyx’s back at the coldness in the words. “Go home.” Reckless from the adrenaline still pumping in his veins, Nyx scrambled to his feet. “I just wanted to talk to you. My parents don’t know I’m here.” He tried not to squirm as Tamlin’s gaze raked up and down his body. Especially when that gaze settled on the knee brace on his bad leg.  “Fine.” Tamlin folded his arms across his chest. “Talk.”

For Tamlin Week Day 2: Warrior. This is the start of a longer Nyx/Tamlin fic called I hope you don't mind that I'm planning on writing. Thanks to @feyres-divorce-lawyer for finding the AMAZING Nyx face claim!!!

@tamlinweek

[ruinix]

räty goal then räty jailed

(Vancouver Canucks @ Pittsburg Penguins, November 27, 2024)

[sportsthoughts]

in the box for doing God's work - 11/4/24

[uglypastels]

Halo of the Highest Grade / Logan Howlett x Reader

People tried to warn you about him, but you loved the risk and danger of it all. They prayed for you, but God already knew exactly the type of men you’ve had your spare share of fun with. And the Wolverine was exactly what you had been looking for all this time.

word count: 5.5.k

warnings: SMUT. 18+ Only. MDNI. afab!reader. p in v. no protection [wrap it before you tap it, folks]. cunnilingus. sadomasochistic tendencies: spanking. choking. biting. scratching. hair pulling. face slapping. mutual degradation. makeshift restrain. violence: cage fighting. blood. alcohol. smoking. cursing. not proofread.

gif from banner sourced online but couldn't find the op, all credits to them.

Shoutout to @deceptive-daydreams for helping me come up with all of this.

Masterlist - Requests are Open

They shake their heads

Saying, "God help her" when I

Tell 'em he's my man.

But your good Lord doesn't need to

Lift a finger, I can fix him

No, really, I can.

The shouts and vulgarities of the drunken crowd could be heard from outside the building. Inside, smoke and alcohol overwhelmed the senses whilst the lights shined through the slits in the high ceiling, practically guiding you towards the silver-lit halo that was the cage at the centre of the room. As if in a trance, each element was calling for you to move closer, so closer you came.

The bell indicating the end of the fight rang but was barely heard through the commotion of the spectators. Two men dragged the barely conscious body of the defeated, his red shirt camouflaging his spilt blood.

‘Hey pretty—’

‘Fuck off.’ You hissed at the pitiful man who had appeared by your side, not even sparing him a glance when you walked off, leaving him behind, stunned and confused. Maybe he tried to call after you or spit some expletives your way, but you were too focused on what was happening inside the cage to notice.  

‘Gentlemen.’ The host called for the next challenger. ‘In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it. Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?’ With an antagonising finger, he pointed to the individual you had already been unable to look away from. His back glistened with sweat from the hot lights above his head. Each calm breath accentuated his shoulder blades. He barely reacted to the scream from the crowd as yet another loser came forward. While the other man approached the stage, you watched the champion take a long drag from his cigar, the smoke billowing around him in long ribbons.

‘Our Savior!’ the host exclaimed, and he exchanged some words of grace with the new fighter. Meanwhile, you kept a watchful eye on the other as he drained his glass of his last drops of golden spirit. With each second until the starting bell ticking by, you found yourself wishing him to turn around and face his opponent. But the bell came and went, and he didn’t move. 

The “savior” lunged forward with a kick, pushing your object of interest into the metal wiring. It clattered at impact, and so his grunt was barely audible. Bend over, a dog tag hanging from his neck; he didn’t even attempt to block the punches thrown his way. Unable to look away from fascination, you winced at each hit. In everyone else’s eyes, it was a lost fight. One too many, he should have quit while he was ahead. Surely, he couldn’t take it anymore. But something in you saw the moments ahead. How he got up, fists and teeth clenched. 

It was over before you could even blink. 

Three punches were all it took. All punctuated with a dull metal sound no one could place but claimed to be the barriers of the fighting stage as the “savior” unconsciously fell to the floor.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight’s winner and still king of the Cage–’ the crowd booed to the harmony of the bell calling the Knock Out, and you quickly sought your escape from the eye of the storm before it formed. From the sound of it, things were gonna get ugly very quickly, and that ain’t the show you had come for. 

‘The Wolverine!’ The announcer finished, and you made sure to remember that little nickname as you walked off. 

With the majority of the crowd leaving, their losses very much at the forefront of their minds, you settled down at the bar. 

‘Give me two of whatever he was having back there.’ You told the barman, cocking your head back to the Cage, and turned on the stool to face the room, a plan already forming in your head. You heard behind you how the man poured the drinks and placed one next to the other at your side. 

‘You don’t wanna do this.’ The man chuckled through his warning, fully aware of your intentions. So, subtlety had never exactly been your strong suit, but in this case, you felt it would probably be a great advantage.

‘Now, what makes you say that?’ You reached for the nearest glass and took a gentle sip. The alcohol practically seared your throat as it went down. ‘He’s just like any other man, no?’

‘Lady, that ain’t no man.’, the older man said in a hushed tone, scared as he would be heard by the wrong people, despite of the chaos around you. ‘That’s a monster.’

Those words only sparked more interest inside you. A flash of ruffled dark hair caught your attention between the crowd, and like a shock had gone through your spine, you sat up straight. 

Realising he was fighting a lost beetle, the barman simply sighed. ‘May God help you.’ 

Oh, God knew exactly the type of men you’ve had your spare share of fun with before. Leading the kind of life you had it was the only way to still make things a little bit interesting. And he, the Wolverine, was precisely what you were looking for. 

His steps were heavy on the floorboards. The crowd, while still angry, parted like the Red Sea at his proximity, looking away as if scared to be petrified if they got caught catching a glimpse of him. But you didn’t even try and hide your stare as he walked up to the bar. A fact that did not go unnoticed. And neither did the manner in which his eyes glazed over your body, moving up and down across your frame, hovering in particular over a few places.

Although plenty of seats were vacant, he sat down at your immediate right. His mouth had already slipped open with the request for a drink, but you were quicker with your generous gesture.

He looked at it with a mix of surprise and amusement, but didn’t say a word. The liquor disappeared with one heavy swig, and the glass clashed with the counter. Without needing to hear anything, the helpful bartender brought out the bottle and poured him another.

‘Can I help you?’ The Wolverine muttered, looking at you from the corner of his eye when you had not stopped looking him over since he had sat down. 

Isn’t he a charmer, you thought, but you also could not deny that his attitude and harsh tone were doing things to you. 

‘Just wanted to congratulate you on the fight.’ As subtle as anything else you had done that night, you came closer, leaning towards him. You caught the glance he gave you as you moved, specifically how his eyes once more lingered on your breast. God, how you loved the ones that just didn’t give a shit. Those who were just as blunt as you were in these matters. It made things so much easier.

‘It wasn’t much of a fight.’ He replied, unphased by anything that happened that night.

‘I suppose you’re right.’ You shrugged, twirling the drink in your hand, ‘though I did think you were kind of soft on that last guy. Why let him get you like that?’ Your mind flashed to the fight, to the grunts he had made as his opponent’s fist met his stomach. ‘Surely, you could have knocked him out cold as soon as he stepped into the ring.’

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ With those words, he finally turned to you, and for the first time that night, your eyes met, and that’s when you saw it. That glint in his eye that told you everything you needed to know about him. How he didn’t get in that ring because he needed to. Maybe the money was a bonus, but that is all it was. He got in there because he wanted to. He let those other guys get in a punch or two before knocking the shit and wind out of them. 

He enjoyed it.

The next remarkable thing about his face, aside from the apparent perfect angles of his features, was how truly perfect it was. For someone so eager to brawl, there were no indications of his hobby. No bruises, scars, and even long-term, his nose looked perfectly straight, as did his jaw, never broken or battered. 

He just kept getting more fascinating by the second.

‘So you’re one of those thrill junkies, huh?’ you asked ordinarily, certainly not as if you had just lost yourself while looking at his face.

‘Sure, if you wanna call it that.’ He scoffed. He was holding back; that much was clear. The constant glances he threw your way were more than enough of a tell. He took another sip of his drink. Fuck it, now was a better chance than never. You let your leg slowly climb up and down his calf, gently pressing into him. Something in his posture stiffened, his jaw tensed up at your touch, and you revelled in it.

‘I can imagine it’s quite a rush, getting out there, getting the adrenaline pumping all through you.’ Your voice danced around him, only clear mischief at its core. ‘Makes you wonder…’ You leaned in so close you could nearly whisper the word directly in his ear. ‘If there is anything else that would have that effect on a man.’

‘Don’t start playing games you can’t finish, bub,’ he pushed out.

‘Oh, I’m planning on finishing.’ You smiled sweetly. ‘Don’t you worry ‘bout me, big boy.’

‘Is that right?’ He leaned in to fill the gap you could not match from your position. You had caught his full attention, his empty glass forgotten on the countertop bar.

Though he faught with a bare chest, he had layered up since and now wore a wifebeater tanktop, covered mainly by a blue button-up and a dark brown leather jacket. As he looked at you, he saw a little black dress that fits you like a glove and just called for attention, and that matched with some knee-high boots and your hair all done up just like the boys like it. You had the intention of getting out of this shithole with someone, and you had set your target. Now, you were so close to catching him, too. 

‘Mmm,’ you took the final sip of your drink. ‘So what’you say we get out of here?’

He chuckled at your suggestion, turning back to look at his hands. You noticed how even his knuckles did not have a shadow of a blush on them. ‘You sure you wanna do this, honey?’

‘I know what I’m doing, honey.’ You got up from your stool, placing your hand on his thigh. He immediately tensed up, but only momentarily, as he relaxed once your slowed down the graze of your nails against the inner seam of his jeans. ‘C’mon, let’s have some fun.’ 

Your hand moved across him to reach for his, and the simple touch was enough for you to know you had won. At least this round. As soon as your fingers touched, his entire body gave in. Not that he would have admitted it, nor was it that obvious at first glance. You, however, picked up on those things. How he leaned into your touch and practically let you walk him out of the bar. But you didn’t have to do or say anything for him to place his other hand over your hip, let it fall comfortably over your ass. 

As soon as your body was greeted with the cool winter air, you spun around, pressing yourself against him until his back hit the brick wall. From then on, everything turned to instincts. Like the bartender knew to refill his glass without a word or glance, this man knew how to kiss you. His hands found their positions on you, keeping you steady as his lips explored yours. You could feel the scruff of his beard, the taste of it all: the alcohol, the cigar. None of it should have had any appeal to you, but mixed with his touch, it simply made you melt away. The kiss kept going until your lungs ran out of breath, and even then, you leeched onto him until you couldn’t any longer, not-so-gently pulling his bottom lip between your teeth as you pulled apart.

‘Got a name, gorgeous?’ He asked, almost innocently, lip pink and plump, though mostly exhilarated through your actions, and so you told him, to which he replied: ‘Logan.’ He kissed you once more, deeper, harsher, before continuing his introduction. ‘Just so you know, I’m not one to hold back.’

‘What, like you did with that guy back there?’ You teased, letting your fingers brush through his hair.

‘That was just a warm-up.’ Was it meant as a threat? A warning? Whatever it was, it made your knees weak. ‘So don’t get scared if I get a bit wild.’

‘Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.’ You moved your hand down, brushing over the side of his face, down his collarbone to trace the silver chain that peaked from underneath his shirt.

‘Just be careful what you wish for.’ He nearly growled before pressing his lips back onto yours.

⦻

You had rented a motel room nearly across the street from The Cage bar and though fairly short, your journey back had turned into one big blur. All you remembered was Logan nearly throwing you into his car, a somewhat sluggish and overrun pick-up with an even older caravan attachment, and pulling you out with as much force. He had practically carried you up to your room, and if it wasn’t for the sake of the other motel visitants, you had a feeling he would have taken you right there and then, up against the green door with a steel 28 hammered into it.

But ever the gentleman, he pulled himself back, only slightly hurdling your attempts at unlocking the door as he let his hands roam all over your body. You threw your head back into the crook of his neck, your hand returning to its place in his messy hair. At the feeling of his lips on you, peppered kisses on the side of your neck, you couldn’t help but tug at his roots. Unintentional, but in hindsight, a revolutionary advance as Logan’s moan heated up your skin, and the thrust of his hips could only be described as untamed.

There really was a monster inside of him. And for one, you couldn’t wait until it got out.

The key finally clicked in its lock, and Logan was the one to push the door open. You spun on the tips of your toes to face him, unable to hide the playful grin on your face. He leaned in for a kiss, but you quickly avoided it with a step back. He stepped forward, kicking the door shut behind him. Just like that, the room fell into darkness, with the exception of the neon sign peaking through the curtains, illuminating your surroundings in glowing streaks of blue.

With a gentleness you had not shown before, you reached for a kiss. A feathery touch that left Logan needing more, the yearning visible in how his body followed you once you let go. And you let him. In fact, as you made your way to the bed, you hooked one finger through one of his belt loops, pulling him along with you. You took small steps backwards until your shins hit the edge of the bed and sat down with a squeak of the mattress springs. Standing in front of you, Logan towered over you. 

A perfectly placed streak of light hit him, showing you just how dark his eyes had turned with need. How his chest was rising heavily as he shook his jacket off, throwing it aside. You watched it pile under the button-up he threw along with it, followed by your coat. Once you looked back at him, the sight of his bare arms had your mind wandering off into the most dark and corrupt places. No thoughts, just pure need pushed your legs open, so far the most inviting of places to Logan.

He wasted no time falling to his knees. You pulled him by the hair for another kiss. Everything got messier by the moment, hungrier, filthier. His hands settled on your thighs, spreading your legs further, then pulling one of them up over his shoulder, giving him space to do whatever he wanted with you. Admittedly, you could have kept kissing him forever, but when his lips attached themselves to your inner thigh, you let yourself fall back on the bed in bliss.

Logan moved closer with each peck. Closer and closer until he reached your panties—the arousal evident from the moment you had revealed yourself to him. You didn’t think the two of you could get any closer until, with a harsh tug, he pulled you up against his face, the bridge of his nose tracing over the soaked material. A shaky moan escaped past your lips, and the hold you kept on his hair tightened. Putting the underwear on started to feel like your biggest regret that day as Logan got comfortable placing sloppy kisses over them, sending shock after shock of elation through your core. 

Your back arched at the sensation of his cold hand on your hot skin, climbing up to the spot where your bodies connected. Still, through that damned lace, he pushed a finger over your slit. The pleasure slowly began to form into agony as you couldn’t take it much longer. But perhaps neither could he, as not long after he had started those teasing strokes, he grabbed at your panties and, with a pull, ripped them to shreds. The sound of the material ripping was harsh and startling but not half as much as the feeling of his hot breath against your pussy, or his tongue finally pressing against it. 

‘Fuck,’ you cursed, to which he responded with a muffled moan, of which the vibrations only added to your pleasure. Logan was undeniably in his element at your feet. The intensity of his movements was proof enough that he enjoyed every single moment of it. The taste of your juices was like ambrosia, and he couldn’t get enough. 

Your hips bucked up in a moment of his more expressive movements. The broken record in your mouth was stuck on a mix of profanities and his name. You couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his fingers on you, how you wished he would have done more than just tease you, but it wasn’t needed for you to feel the tight twist in your stomach. Your whole body began to tense, including your thighs. It took the sound of Logan’s deep groans for you to realise that, in your desperate state, you had started to squeeze your thighs together, practically locking his head in between. 

But, unlike your first thought that had made you want to pull away, his groans had not been worrisome. It was full-on pleasure that he was displaying. To set aside any of your doubt in the case, he held on to your leg, keeping it exactly where it was, and when he glanced up, your eyes met that same exact spark you had seen in the bar. That same hunger and insanity of a man in despair. 

Immediately, an idea bubbled in your mind. How you had still been able to form any coherent thought was a mystery, and even more, how you had managed to execute it. It was most likely not possible without his help, as you were sure if he was steadfast in his current position, there would be no way of you getting him to move a slight inch, but with a swift manoeuvre, you pulled yourself off the bed, and flipped yourself, as well as Logan, for you to position yourself on top of his lips.

‘You readin’ my mind now, princess?’ the nickname alone brought back the tightness in your stomach, accentuated by the nick of his teeth against your inner thigh after his remark. There was a moment of slightly awkward shuffling as he pushed himself and you up onto the centre of the bed, but once set, there was no going back. 

Instincts took over once more as his tongue moved over your folds. For that extra friction, you began to move in tandem over his features, grinding into him in a heat of need. Now, you had been with a number of guys, each freakier than the other, but none of them had ever let you ride their face like a fuck pillow. He would have been obsolete if not for the fact that he was getting off on sucking your clit.

‘So fucking desperate,’ you moaned between thrusts, and since his mouth was a bit preoccupied, Logan’s response came in the form of his hand firmly smacking across your ass. The lingering sting burnt through the rest of you just long enough for you to start missing it and that’s when he struck the sensitive skin again. Your moans turned higher in pitch with each time he did, and the actions of his tongue got more ferocious. Without saying a word, the message was clear: who’s the desperate one now?

And the answer was very simple. You both were. That’s the only reason you had walked into that room together to begin with. Both of you had urges that had gone unkept for too long. Urges where just sex wasn’t enough. There was always something missing. Until now.

All this time he had made sure you stayed right on top of him. Long and tight enough to make you wonder if he had actually had a death wish and was planning to go out in style. But evertime you looked at him, he seemed to almost be at peace, completely focused in the delicious task at hand. When he did finally pull you up from his lips, it was only to introduce the last puzzle piece into the game. 

The curses rolled of your tongue as he pushed his fingers into you. Long and thick, already stretching you out. He left kisses up on your clit, sloppy and wet just to keep toying with the nerves. You could feel the callouses on his thumb as he traced and pressed over it. 

His other hand was again on your ass, this time digging into the soft flesh to keep you at bay. You were stuck in the rapturous stance, ready to burst at any time. 

‘C’mon, baby, fucking cum on my tongue,’ he growled before placing himself right back where his demand would be met and this time, as the tightness pulled at your body, you couldn’t control it. Not a minute later, were you gasping out his name as you let the pleasure take over all of you.

You rode your high out to the final moment where he kissed your thigh again, eyes heavy and faint smile adorned his lips. While both your breaths were evening out, you slipped down over his body to see the full picture. Even in the barely-lit room, you could see how his face was glistening with your juices, and it just kept going down his neck, drenching the top of his tanktop. It was a sight for sore eyes—and legs. What you would do to see it over and over again. 

With a soft laugh that only spelled out “trouble”, you started to softly trace the lines of his beard. He looked up at you with furrowed brows, awaiting an explanation to your actions. 

‘Told you I could handle it,’ you smiled, smacking his cheek. Not viciously or even that hard, but firmly enough to wake him up from his pussy-drunk state. 

And wake him up, you did. 

‘They call it foreplay for a reason, sugar.’ He smirked and suddenly you grew very aware of his hold on you. The next second, you felt yourself move through the air as he took his turn in flipping you over. You nearly got the wind blown out of your lungs as your back hit the mattress for the second time that night, this time with his weight on top of you. 

There was the sound of a belt unbuckling. Your eyes automatically searched for the source, ready to see what he had been packing below, but Logan was quicker, cupping your face in his hand, squeezing your cheeks so you’d have no choice to look up at him. 

‘Eyes on me.’ His voice was as soft as limestone, fine and effervescent in the most rigid fashion. Then his hand moved down, pushing you by the throat into the soft pillow underneath. He leaned forward, placing his mouth over your ear to whisper: ‘Gonna be a good girl for me?’

You nodded as best as you could with the stiff hold he had on you.

‘Use your words,’ he growled and squeezed. 

‘Yes,’ you choked out weakly, exactly like he had wanted you to. 

The release of his hand reopened the next floodgates in your body. You could still taste the result of the last time on his lips and tongue when he kissed you. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more. And the most painful part of it all was that you knew just how close you were to getting what you wanted. You could feel the loose belt buckle against your thigh.

‘Logan,’ you gasped as an ending to the kiss. ‘Please.’

‘What did I just tell you, hmm?’ And yet, he still pulled at your dress to push it up over your hips. ‘Use your fucking words.’

‘Fuck me.’ You tried to reach for the top of his jeans, but there was no moving from the position he had you in. ‘Need you inside me.’

‘But yeah, I’m the desperate one,’ he mocked before sitting up. You watched with anticipation at how he unzipped his trousers, and pulled his dick out from his boxers. There was no surprise that he was completely hard by now, and even the size, considering the rest of him, was not a revelation. This had been exactly what you had been counting on when you saw him in that cage. Seeing him stroke himself in front of you was nothing but validation. 

‘Just look at you,’ he said as he kept his hand on his cock, ‘Opened your legs up for me the moment you saw me.’ His other hand reached for the top of your dress, stretching it down to reveal your breast. ‘Bet you would have let me fuck you in that cage, huh?’

‘Can’t deny, the thought had crossed my mind.’ You admitted, letting yourself think back to how attractive he looked back in there. Drenched in sweat under those cold lights. That animalistic glint in his eyes. Not much different from now, truth be told.

That had been all Logan needed to hear. You hadn’t realised you were holding your breath in expectation until the feeling of him entering you finally took over. Your lips formed a perfectly blissful O as he stretched you out. 

‘That’s right,’ he beamed, ‘gonna fill you up. Nice and tight.’ And he didn’t waste any time, pulling back right after he had reached your depths. In seconds, he had a pace going that left you shaking underneath him, the grunts that accompanied his thrusts recoiling through your nerves. You hands clutched around for a something to grab onto as you started to feel like you were going to sink into the bed from the power at which he fucked you—for that’s what it was, nothing but a brutal and rough fuck.

You searched the sheets for grip, but Logan had other ideas. Taking you by the wrists, he pulled your arms up over your head, holding them against the paneling of the bed. The dull banging on the wall could have very well been your own headboard or the angry fists of your neighbours from the other side, but either way, you were too preoccupied to pay them any mind. 

This had been what you were waiting for. What he had promised. The untamed animal that worked off of nothing but impulses. Anything to suffice that pure need for pleasure. 

His grip on your wrists was tight, and to say it didn’t turn you on even more than anything else he had done before would be a blatant lie, but your urge to touch him was stronger. You tried to wiggle your hands free, but there was no way of doing so. Not with a man like Logan in control, that much he had made clear.

‘This not good for ya?’ he huffed out, but before you could respond, he pulled you up by your arms until you straddled his thighs, chest to chest, an angle which pulled him in even deeper. 

‘Oh my god,’ your eyes rolled back at the sensation.

‘No god will help you now,’ he said against your lips before bringing you in for another kiss. You wrapped yourself around him, finding comfort in the softness of his hair once more while he began to guide your hips into a steady motion to fit the pace at which he moved. Testing the waters again, you pulled at the hairs on the nape of his neck. The smile on his face as his head rolled back was unmistakable even in the dark of the room. 

You pulled harder and there it was. That pure moan you had been waiting for and once you got a taste of it, you couldn’t get enough. 

And neither could he.

With the goal set, you dragged your nails over his shoulders as you let your hips roll over his.

‘Fuck yeah,’ he moaned in ecstasy, ‘use me, baby.’ The words came out airy and made your head spin at their contrast. How could he be acting like your little plaything while still taking full control of you? It made you feel grand and tiny in his arms at the same time, but mostly, it was so incredibly hot.

He hissed at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin. ‘Don’t you dare fucking stop.’ He stressed each word with a thrust, dotting it with a sharp kiss. And so, you did as you told, pushing yourself onto him in all ways you could. You didn’t know if you had it in you to draw blood, but it sure felt close to it. You were waiting for Logan to scream out, pull you off of him, but it only seemed to rile him up more.

That’s a monster. That’s what the man in the bar had called him. Monster. And there was a sense of truth to it. There was a beast hiding inside him, ready to attack. Maybe he thought he had found a victim when he saw you, but as you clenched around his length, you were quite the opposite. 

You were no victim. No damsel in distress. No princess. 

You were a hunter, and you had just caught your grand prize.

‘I’m gonna—’ you were unable to finish the sentence before the rapture. You screamed his name in elation as the second flush satisfaction washed over you that night but it wasn’t enough for Logan. He kept on rutting into you, his grunts filled the room, until you felt it all spill out of you.

Once he had caught his breathing under control, he sighed out a contented “fuck,” which you wholeheartedly agreed with as you pulled yourself off him. The emptiness you immediately began to feel was disquieting, and you could feel that need for him bubbling up in your stomach again. The only thing that slightly helped was the sight of him when you returned from the bathroom, jeans on the floor next to the pile of clothes you had formed through the night. 

You took all of him in with wonder as you slipped your dress off your body.

They shook their heads

Saying, "God help her" when I

Told 'em he's my man.

But your good Lord didn't need to

Lift a finger, I can fix him

No, really, I can.

Woah- Maybe I can't.

You awoke to the sunbeams bursting through the curtains. Sore all over, you tried to stretch across the bed, mindful of the presence next to you. 

Except, when you stretched out your hand, you were only met with the soft material of the bedsheets. The mattress had gone cold and reformed back to its natural state, having forgotten any weight that might have laid there the night before. If you had looked outside, you would have seen an empty parking spot beside yours. The only sign of there ever having been someone in that bed with you was the ghostly presence of the smell of cigars and aftershave. 

You smiled to yourself, nails digging into the sheets as you let your mind wander back to the realm of dreams.

the end.

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