#skin care in the heights

[fumble-art]

Oversensory

[anglers1mp]

lesbians

I love lesbians. I love Bi Women. I love Pan Women.

I love Femme Women.

I love Butch/Masc Women.

I. Fucking. Love. Women.

This is a credit to the very hot alt girl I want to be with- don’t worry I asked her to the movies and she said yes!! I might score a Pansexual girlfriend out of this?!??! WISH ME THE LUCK OF LESBIANS AND THE QUEER COMMUNITY

[satonomi]

but, you’re pregnant! — gojo satෆru

mdni, fem!reader, suggestive, 0.8k wc, established relationship, satoru’s pregnant wife who can’t keep her hands off him, teeny tiny bit of exhibitionism (reader palms his bulge in public), failed self-restraint, selfship coded cuz we’re both desperate for each other :’)

you’re far along now, and satoru swears that the more your stomach grows with his child, the hornier you get.

he had to keep on his toes around you in order to not get you so worked up. the pregnancy hormones were really getting to you, and you lashed out at him or cried over every little inconvenience. but what he had to be most careful about was the way he touched you.

if his hand lingered a little too long on your waist — the intention wholeheartedly innocent — you’d somehow take that as an invitation to palm his bulge. it’s happened numerous times recently—even in public!

his poor, pregnant wife had no shame nowadays. yeah, he’s done his fair share of groping your ass when others were around, but it was always under a private eye, secret giggles shared between the two of you.

unfortunately, you had picked up the habit of doing it out in the open. he couldn’t count the amount of times people would gawk in horror, all while you continued to browse the baby section, unbothered, as if you hadn’t squeezed his balls like a stress toy in front of dozens of people. maybe you were an exhibitionist?

either way, it was clear your thoughts only consisted of three things as of late: eat, sleep, and fuck.

how could he resolve this? he wanted to cry. this wasn’t fair! why couldn’t you be this thirsty for his cock when you weren’t pregnant? never in his life would he have thought you could out-freak him. and as badly as he wanted to fuck you senseless in return, he had to be gentle—cautious. sex was increasingly dangerous at this stage — according to the doctor after a long night of abusing your needy cunt — and you were driving him to the brink of madness with the way you were acting.

tensions were higher than they’ve ever been, neither of you speaking or acting on it. however, things came to ahead one morning while he was leaving for work. like usual, he stood by the door in his suit, prepared to head out after your usual once-over. it was a domestic routine he looked forward to every morning despite him whining in your ear about how he was going to be late, watching you softly as you “fix” his collar for the millionth time.

satoru wasn’t stupid. he could tell you were stalling for more time with him, not-so discreetly using it as an excuse to touch him. and don’t think he doesn’t notice how you’re practically sniffing him like an animal in heat. he knew just how much you loved the scent of his cologne, and it was as if you couldn’t help yourself around him when you caught a whiff of it.

now, here’s the part where he may have messed up. after your initial aggressive arousal towards him — plus with the advice the doctor gave him on the down low — he made sure to no longer kiss you on the lips in your current state, and instead, opted for your cheek. when you hand him his lunch, he leans himself down to your height, lips puckered to plant a chaste peck on your soft skin.

though, what he hadn’t expected was for you to outmaneuver him, slapping both hands on the sides of his head, tugging him close to the point that he stumbles as you begin to utterly ravish his mouth.

“mff—!”, satoru sputters in protest against your lips, eyes wide open in shock. his lunch slips from his hand, the bag falling to the ground with a thud. shaky hands hover over your waist, your protruding stomach pressing against his hard abdomen as move against him as sensually as you can.

he doesn’t touch you back just yet, but you force him to. gripping his wrists, you bring his large hands up to palm your round, tender breasts that swelled throughout these past few months. your soft, cherry-flavored lips moved against his in desperation, and he finally responds back, moaning into your mouth with just as much fervor, squeezing the plump flush of your soft tits. the whimper you let out to the massage sends a shudder down his spine and goes straight to his cock.

you pull back, and he finds himself chasing after your lips until you plant a firm hand on his chest. his breathing is ragged, pupils dilated as satoru stares down at you through his blindfold. he takes in the sight of your kiss-swollen lips and furrowed brows, certain he appeared just as flustered.

before he can utter a word, you gaze up at him through your lashes, a cheeky glint in your eyes that he knows all too well.

“stay.” you pout, and he almost finds the willpower left in him to say no—

“please?”

you didn’t have to ask him twice.

[chameleonsallinvermillion]

I do think that, on reflection, all the body image lessons we had at school did more harm than good. They were few and far between, whether full lessons or assemblies, and they always began by explaining all the things you might be made to feel insecure about before adding that you should love yourself anyway. Not sure what the goal of that was but I got a much clearer idea about all the ways I don't look right from those sessions than I did from idk movies or whatever

[gay-caesar-truther]

There's 100% rumors about Brutus among NCR troops- even before he becomes The Courier.

Due to the nature of rumors getting dramatacized he's probably described as a barely human beast of a man- more like a werewolf than a person. Snarling, hungry, storming NCR camps with a pack of dogs and leaving carnage in his wake. Caesar's hound set off leash to send a message.

Of course he DOES fight like a rabid animal and always fights with Amica at his side, but it takes a while for the NCR to piece together this hulking mythological figure and his pack of wolves this actually just this one 6'3 mfer and his 1 dog and the stories where mostly hyperbole.

[holicare]

height growth maximizer- Maximum Height Growth Formula to Get Taller

Introducing Height Growth Maximizer - your key to reaching new heights! Packed with potent ingredients, it naturally supports growth. Boost your confidence as you grow taller. Easy to use and powerful, it's your secret to unlocking your potential. Say hello to a taller, more confident you with Height Growth Maximizer!

[aomiiine]

SAVE A PLANE, RAWDOG A PILOT

ON THIS PLANE, YOU’LL BE WITNESSING … commercial airline pilot!caleb & stewardess fem!reader, pure filth ahead!! warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI [18+ only], smut w no plot, he hits from behind, creampie, caleb’s a fucking tease, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up b4 any action irl), not fighter pilot caleb, degradation (he calls u a slut once), petnames: sweetheart, baby, princess, implied aftercare, slight comedy lol, not proofread wordcount. 0.8k (procrastinating from my long ass sylus fic sorz)

DEAR PILOT of yours just can’t stand not touching you after every flight you share together. He says its because he misses you, you say its because he needs to mark your pretty body for the next flight you’re on to ward off unwanted attention.

working with your childhood friend as a stewardess at an airline he worked as a pilot was.. pleasurable to say the least. Caleb had trained to be a military pilot, something you were at respected him for despite his ridiculous teasing whenever he came home. But what you wondered most now, was why he suddenly abandoned his duties just to be a pilot for a normal plane travelling across countries.

Crisp uniform, fitting hat and a smug smile. Today was one of the many unlucky days you shared a flight with him. Fuck this guy, you snarled in your mind whenever you even caught a glance of him coming out the cockpit. Though those words became a literal fuck me real quick after a long flight.

You prayed with a hazy mind and hands bracing on the wall of the narrow toilet in the plane that no one was outside, body bouncing with the force of Caleb’s thrusts from behind you. “Y-you’re going too fast, what if someone hears?” You stammered between uneven breaths mingling with moans, unable to make yourself care much for your surroundings despite your concerned words, earning a scoff from the man making your legs quiver from behind.

“The only thing someone’s gonna hear is your fucking moans if you keep talking, sweetheart,” Caleb grunted with a hoarse chuckle, jaw clenched soon after with stuttering his hips stuttering into your sloppy cunt, velvety walls tightening around him like a silky vice.

He was in awe of his own self-control whenever he sunk his achingly hard cock back into your pussy, feeling your insides fluttering around him to accommodate his length stretching you out. The man couldn’t help but lean forward at this one specific clench, hand slamming against the wall ahead of you just above one of your own trembling hands.

“She’s so hungry for my cum, isn’t she, baby? Making it so hard for me to hold back with all that clenching..,” he murmured softly just behind your ear, though it was more like he was talking to your pussy with how he was punctuating his every word with a thrust, his body leaning down close to you with ease due to his tall height. He buried himself further into your warm heat with a squelch, the lewd mix of his pre-cum and your arousal. He felt a jolt of desire when you only clamped down on him harder in response, making him exhale a chuckle and quicken his pace, bringing you and himself closer to the edge.

“Ooh, fuck, now you’re feeling it, aren’t you? About to make a biiig fucking mess on my cock like a dirty slut,” he drawled cruelly with an initial growl, head dipped into your shoulder with your hand on your hip only tightening to hold you in place. Every plow of his cock inside your needy cunt filled the small room, the sound of skin against skin surely to reach the ears of those close by.

True to Caleb’s words, you sobbed a moan of pleasure, knees falling weak and unstable as your orgasm overwhelmed you, creaming all over his cock, making a mess that began to drip on the floor. Regardless of your recent climax, Caleb showed no signs of stopping, your pleasure only feeding his desperate desire to reach that high with you, to fill you up, mark you for the rest of the next flight until he could have you again. In time, his balls drew up tight, one last surge forward before he stilled and pumped his seed into your tight channel, painting those velvet walls white with his essence.

“Ungh.. Think I just made you even warmer than you already were, princess,” Caleb laughed weakly, forehead resting against your shoulder, big hand on your hip the only support you had to keep standing. “.. Oh, fuck you,” you huffed between pants, head hung low to catch your breath and recompose yourself from the intense pounding he’s given you ever since the plane landed and the passengers unloaded. “Yeah, you sure did,” he scoffed with a grin, leaning in with a pull from your stomach to sneak a kiss onto your cheek. He leaned away once more before you could gain the energy to scold him further, slowly pulling out of your used hole, leaving it full empty with nothing but oozing cum.

He reached out for the toilet roll nearby, grabbing a thick bunch of tissue to clean your wet inner thighs and wiping your slick folds with little effort, not wanting to truly clean you up of his cum yet. Besides, you were too tired to notice at the moment, so he pulled your panties up, tugging your skirt back down as he helped you take your hands off the walls to stand up straight.

After a proper few minutes of insisted aftercare by Caleb, you two were outside of the bathroom again, readying yourselves to leave the aircraft for your next respective flights. Once this experience ended, you thought that maybe sharing a flight with him wasn’t so bad. Well, maybe until you began to feel his cum beginning to drip down onto your panties while you were walking.

[robo-writing]

Cockwarming with Logan is one of those ideas that sound good on paper, but could never work in reality. Listen up, and I’ll tell you why. (18+)

The heat of you enveloping him is nirvana itself, your hands on his body sending him to cloud nine. They linger on his chest, pawing, caressing, blazing a trail from his collarbone to his face, nails burying themselves into the darkened locks as you stare at him with nothing short of pure adoration.

“Feel good?” You ask, and he’s so drunk off you that he can only bring himself to nod, breath hitching when your hips circle themselves in his lap. Your laughter is nothing short of melodic, pressing yourself into the broad length of his chest.

He feels everything like this—the heat of your nude body against his, the scent of your body wash, your shaky breaths—every sense on overdrive. It’s there you sit, unmoving, unwavering, every movement causing your pussy to clench around him, and in turn, makes his chest rumble appreciatively.

“Should listen to you more often,” Logan mumbles, biting his lip at the feeling of you nibbling at his neck. “Just full of bright ideas, ain’tcha?”

“Full of a lot of things,” you sigh, and the sound makes his cock twitch.

But, there’s something missing.

Your quiet whimpers, your doe eyes staring at him from above—the way your pussy clenches in response to every touch, pulsing around his cock—it’s good, but it’s not enough.

Tugging at him, an itch he can’t scratch, it gnaws away at his mind until he finds himself searching for more, and the realization hits him like a wave.

It’s patience he lacks, an epiphany that has his lips curling into a smirk. It’s a lesson soon learned when his fingers dig into your hips and lift, surprise evident on your face. His downfall, as with most things, is his lack of patience. When it comes to you, he could even go as far to call it greed.

“Logan?” You ask, not a word given in response. His palms run up your back, large digits squeezing at your flesh, and yet the feeling does little to settle the sudden flare of nerves that build in your core. The calm before the storm, the impending sense of doom, women’s intuition—or maybe it’s because you’ve become intimately familiar with the devious smile that spreads across Logan’s face.

“Logan? What are you—“

You’re soon cut short, interrupted by the feeling of him slamming you back onto his cock, your short gasp making ego soar to new heights.

“Sorry doll, change of plans,” he grunts, bouncing you on his lap without a care in the world. The sudden change of pace has you scrambling for purchase, hands clamoring around his neck as you struggle to keep up.

“Logan, wait—ohmygod—“ you whine, and the sound is like music to his ears. His attempt at soothing your worries is his hand sliding across your ass, the sharp sting of it making you jump, but lucky for you Logan’s there to pull you back onto his cock.

Up, down, up, down. A constant rhythm that finally satiates the beast within him, the dull thud of skin on skin enough to have him melting into his chair, a wave of content spreading through every vein of his body. In contrast, you feel your own becoming more tense by the second; toes curling, breath caught in your throat, an incomprehensible string of noises leaving your lips as Logan watches with bated breath.

He tuts at you, the sound nothing short of mocking. “No runnin’ away sweetheart, this was your idea.”

“Not like this,” you moan, hiding yourself in his neck. “Wanted to relax…”

Your voice trails off, unable to speak when Logan’s practically fucking every rational thought from your head. Slowly but surely, any idea of protest is drowned out by the heat that burns inside of you, a dull ember that builds into a blaze, unable to focus on anything that isn’t Logan or his cock grinding inside you.

You can hear his laughter bellowing deep within his chest, amused at your brainless state, right before he quickens his pace. “Trust me sweetheart, I’m real fuckin’ relaxed right now.”

[the-somwthing]

Sorry but I’m not getting over the person who basically implied that headcanoning Jimmy as taller than Tango is thinly veiled rpf and they’re not REALLY separating cc from character. Like WHAT are you cooking

[kikuriki]

After a million years (or rather a few long months) I present you… A Splatoon picrew maker 

What’s so special about it you may ask? It has custom hairstyles AND you can combine parts of the hair and different gear to create unique OCs! 

Enjoy! https://picrew.me/image_maker/1781065

[umehaji]

— 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓;

☾ Content: popstar f!reader much more famous than your pro volleyball player boyfriend- you finally hard launch your relationship on instagram but the public reaction isn't what you expect, so you take matters into your own hands

ft. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou, Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Koutarou, Kageyama Tobio

☾ A/N: inspired by dua lipa and callum turner and my girl sabrina

— 𝐔𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢;

Ushijima doesn't even have an instagram, naturally. the closest thing is he's got is his team's account, curated and managed by the PR team. so when you wiggle your phone in front of him to show him the chosen piece for your account, he just gives it a cursory glance and nods. the photo is from backstage at one of your concerts earlier this month: you, glowing with joy, arm slung casually around his neck, leaning into him as you beam up at him with a smile that could light up your stadiums. he's got one arm wrapped securely around your waist, usual stoic expression softened by a warmth in his eyes as he gazes down at you- one that only you seem to be able to draw out of him.

but the reactions to your post are swift and crushing. you're beyond proud of Ushijima- proud of his quiet strength, his dedication, his raw talent. you know you shouldn’t and it shouldn’t—doesn’t—matter, but your thumb keeps scrolling through the comments. each one feels like a knife twisting deeper, a personal attack, particularly the ones suggesting he doesn't care, that he looks like he's got the emotional depth of a spoon, that this is all just a PR move somehow. watching the sweetest man you know not get the recognition he truly deserves hurts more than you want to admit.

ᯓ🏐

when Ushijima steps into your shared bedroom, shirtless, his hair still damp from a post-workout shower and sweatpants slung low on his hips, his gaze finds you sitting at your vanity. the soft light of the mirror highlights your delicate features, casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

"toshi," you greet him warmly, turning toward him with an inviting smile. he pads over to you, barefoot, and you tilt your chin up expectantly. he rests one hand on the back of your chair, the other on the edge of your desk and leans down, capturing your lips in a long, slow kiss, his head tilting to deepen it as he lifts a hand to your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your soft skin before drawing back, a small smile curving up on his lips when he sees the dazed look in your eyes.

"morning, love." he says simply, before walking off to the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. completely oblivious to the phone propped up against your mirror, the livestream on the screen, and the chaos that you've just unleashed within your fanbase.

readerfanatic_official joined popicon4life just fell to my knees screaming in the 711 parking lot platinum_readerstan she's dating a TREE tinyreader777 'morning love'???...our queen is built different i would've evaporated on the spot bipbop_23 ...i get it now readerfan2024 guess i'm into volleyball now glitznglamfan girl i'm scared for ur holes

— 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐨𝐮;

it's a cute photo: the two of you on a beach at a resort, there for one of Oikawa's games. Hinata's got his head in your lap, one of your hands gently running through his messy orange hair while your other hand rests on his chest. you're gazing out at the sea, a serene smile gracing your face as you enjoy the view, while Hinata looks up at you, equally captivated by what he sees.

the comments that flood in are anything but kind. most of them poke fun at his height, with fans wondering how he managed to catch your eye when he's fighting gravity every day, others insisting that he must just be very funny. and it doesn’t bother Hinata at all, not that you can tell- he just scratches the back of his head and laughs, exclaiming that it's nothing he hasn't heard before, that he’ll just have to work twice as hard to earn your fans’ approval. ignoring your protests that he has nothing to prove.

ᯓ🏐

a few eagle-eyed fans are the first ones to notice it and not long after, screenshots of your activity start to circulate. first it's you liking an edit of Hinata lifting his shirt during ones of his games to wipe sweat off his brow. then it's a clip of him leaping into the air, showing off his energy and athleticism. a third like is a snapshot of Hinata celebrating a victory, fists clenched and knees bent, muscles in his thighs flexed as he roars with triumph.

the one that nips it in the bud is when you share a post to your story. it’s a reel- a compilation of Hinata’s spikes, his raw energy and unstoppable power lighting up the court as he slams the ball past his opponents. your fans lose it when you post a mirror selfie on the same day: you've got your back turned toward the mirror, all dolled up for an award ceremony in a gown that leaves nothing and everything to the imagination. you look good, accentuated by the man at your side who, unlike you, is facing the mirror. but Hinata isn't looking at the camera- his heated gaze is on your reflection instead. one of his arms is curved loosely around your waist, hand resting just above your ass.

the internet goes wild.

mvpmichelle8 2h 385 likes our girl is thirsting publicly on main i respect it robsessed247 2h 306 likes rip to her ass cheeks keanue_433 2h 243 likes ...what team does he play for again stanacctreader 1h 178 likes she got herself a short KING FR newvolley_98 1h 85 likes so when’s the next game where you get a front-row seat to his… spikes? 🥵

— 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮;

you don’t exactly share the photo yourself, but it might as well be yours. when Vogue posts the cover shot and tags you, it goes viral almost instantly. because Atsumu is seated in a luxurious chair, looking every bit like a king in his perfectly tailored suit, legs spread confidently, an air of dominance about him. you're perched on the armrest beside him, the slit of your black dress exposing the smooth curves of your body. one of your hands is loosely intertwined with his, resting on your thigh. the chemistry is palpable, electric. the sultry confidence in your posture paired with the intensity in Atsumu's gaze makes it impossible to look away. paired with the article about your relationship, this is a power couple at its finest.

or at least so you think.

the opinions of your fans are mixed, but those who disapprove don't hold back. they say that he must be cheating on you, that he looks untrustworthy, that his self-assured interview quotes only highlight how self-absorbed he is, implying he’s too consumed with himself to ever treat you right. Atsumu's ready to fight everyone questioning his devotion to you before you remind him that he can’t spend all day replying to hate comments- he has practice, and that you’ll handle it.

ᯓ🏐

you show up to the world championship that month with your entourage in tow. you visit Atsumu in his locker room to wish him good luck, ignoring the way his teammates trip over themselves gaping at you. he almost doesn’t let you leave, seizing you in a deep kiss that leaves you a little unsteady on your feet, but you plan a firm hand on his chest because you have places to be, a job to do.

when Atsumu steps up to serve and you watch as his routine unfolds, the familiar movements flowing effortlessly, your PR team is at the ready. his signature has evolved since his early days, the fist still a familiar gesture, but now his index finger uncurls at the last moment, pointing into the crowd. he doesn’t need to look; he always knows exactly where you are. but today, it’s different. you’re not in the shadows, hiding behind sunglasses or a baseball cap. today, you’re wearing his jersey, sitting front and center, in the best seat in the house. you’re clapping louder than anyone else, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt.

this time, when he finds you in the crowd, the whole world is watching.

Us Weekly: Atsumu Miya Makes History with Serve: Fans Go Wild over Major 'Couple Goals' Moment at the World Championship Buzzfeed: Is He Pointing to Y/N? 10 Moments Atsumu Miya Was Literally Screaming 'I Love You' Sports Illustrated: Atsumu Miya’s Serve Gets Personal: The Unspoken Gesture You Didn’t Know Was for Y/N Kyodo News: Fans Flock to See Miya Atsumu's Relationship with Global Sensation Y/N in Full View Cosmopolitan: Y/N and Atsumu Miya: From Music Charts to Volleyball Courts—Their Love Story (Exclusive)

— 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮;

what you think is a beautiful moment, your fans interpret quite differently. in the photo you post, Bokuto's strong arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he hugs you from behind. his hands are positioned low on your abdomen, fingers spread wide and pressing down lightly, a playful gesture that has you squirming in response. the candid shot your manager took captures you in mid-laugh. you're tilting away from him, hands gripping his wrists, body twisted in a half-escape as though you're trying to dodge his ticklish touch. Bokuto's lips are pressed softly to the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder partly obscuring his face. his expression is partially hidden, but the corner of his mischievous grin peeks out, his eyes glinting at the camera as he looks up right at that moment.

your fans tear him apart, their words dripping with criticism- accusing him of being too touchy, claiming that you don’t want him like that, that he's too obsessed, too forward. the comments flood in, one after another, each one more biting than the last. the relentless stream of negativity cuts deep, and you can see the toll it takes on Bokuto as he scrolls on his phone with a downtrodden look. you tell him to ignore it, that he has nothing to worry about, but you can tell it does little to lift his spirits.

ᯓ🏐

you show him that night just how deeply you care about him, straddling his lap and gently cupping his face in your hands. your lips meet his in a soft, reverent kiss, a silent exchange that you hope conveys volumes. you murmur against his mouth, telling him how perfect he is, watching with a quiet smile as the tips of his ears go red. but then he shifts, flipping you over on the bed, caging you in with thick arms all while still blushing so prettily. and when you feel something hard and big pressing against your inner thigh, you wonder what you've gotten yourself into.

Bokuto goes even redder the next day when he wakes up to incessant texting from his teammates and he opens social media to find a photo on your feed: it's of him shirtless, lying on his front and cradling a pillow with his cheek smooshed into it, his hair down and expression peaceful. what's not so peaceful is the view of his bare back- red streaks running down his tanned skin, unmistakably from your fingers. the white sheets thrown over his legs obscure anything from the waist down but his face flushes deeper as he takes in the rest of the intimate scene.

you've got one hand resting gently on his head, fingers woven loosely in his hair, thumb caressing his cheek mid-stroke. it's soft, casual, possessive.

fan_gurl_4 1h 403 likes the way we thought HE was the obsessed one...how the turn tables bobfriend_76 1h 386 likes she's marking her territory glamjam69 1h 207 likes ...this ain't demure or mindful at all menin4k22 45m 146 likes ma’am for science, p-please remove those sheets readerfan234 14m 121 likes the way she's touching him...i need a moment to grieve 😩

— 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐨;

the release party for your new album goes off without a hitch, and you score tons of cute photos with Kageyama, cuddling up to him that night to scroll through and select the best ones. your top choice is one of the more simple shots: you, with one hand resting on his chest, leaning into the arm he’s wrapped around your waist. his long fingers were hot against your skin through the delicate fabric of your dress, and you swear you can still feel the imprints of them. he's serious in the shot, his lips set in a stern line as he gazes into the camera, but you adore that look on him. especially when that same gaze shifts to you, hinting at something deeper, something darker, waiting for later.

your fans, however, don't see what you do. so you wake up to a barrage of comments, about how he looks boring, how he probably doesn't know a single one of your lyrics, how you could do so much better. naturally, Kageyama doesn't give a single shit as to what your fans think about him. just kisses you goodbye and heads off to practice, duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder. but you care.

ᯓ🏐

it takes a fair amount of convincing and a hefty dose of bribery, which somehow includes you securing an advertisement contract with one of Kageyama's favorite yogurt brands, but he finally agrees to appear in the music video for your latest hit. though, you can't help but think it had more to do with you casually hinting that your company had intended on pulling in one of the hottest actors currently on the scene, known for making girls swoon at meet-and-greets.

he plays a cop arresting you for a string of crimes you commit in the name of revenge on your cheating ex, culminating in him pushing you down in the backseat of his patrol car. it's hot, steamy, and when he shoves his knee between your legs, leaning over you with one hand pinning your wrists above your head, you won't deny that you make a mental note to recreate this scene later, without the cameras.

the music video shatters records and skyrockets to the top of the charts.

and the comments this time? well. they speak for themselves.

bops234 • 1 day ago this awakened something in me fando23 • 12 hours ago i'm going to need this man's @ immediately barkbarkbark_89 • 12 hours ago are we sure he doesn't want to switch career paths stanacctreader • 10 hours ago i thought he was just a plain slice of milk bread but boy was i wrong freedomsings145 1h • 5 hours ago casting your real life boyfriend as the main romantic lead in your music video is such a power move, as always our queen's taste is IMPECCABLE atsumumiya • 2 hours ago he looks like a foot

[hoshigray]

But like…sugar daddy!Nanami bending you over his pool table and just fucking your brains out🙈‼️

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: missed writing for nanami, let's gooo!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: sugar daddy! Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - sex on a pool table - finger sucking - lingerie - breast fondling + nipple play - standing (bent over) position - praise - Daddy kink - pet names (baby, good girl, honey, love, sweetheart, sweetpea) - protected sex (bc he's a gentleman, lol) - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

“—Mmmph! Ohhh…Kent—Oooh!”

“Yes, baby…God, you look so good.”

“Your fingers; you’re going too…Mmmm…”

Being a sugar baby is a blessing in its own way. Not having to worry so much about your financial situations as they’re taken care of in your day-to-day life can be a bit overwhelming to comprehend in the days you forget entirely; however, you can’t lie that it’s not a nice lifestyle to live in. All your money troubles no longer being a constant weight on your shoulders, moved aside for you to enjoy your life as freely as you wish compared to before.

And what’s better is that the man taking care of said troubles was indeed a miracle worker — and quite the looker. Nanami Kento, your sugar daddy, took you in when you put your online advertisement looking for a sugar daddy, and you can only thank the stars above for such a wonderful man to come falling from the heavens above to put your mind at ease.

And trust and believe that he’s done so in ways more than one.

He had you bent by his pool table in the living space of his penthouse, your legs spread for him to have your skirt lifted to your waist. It’s easier for his hand to go to your lacy panties and slide his fingers in to meet your folds. And after a few minutes, he’s already made you a complete mess just by the thickness of his digits. 

You squirm, gripping the billard stick that rests on the velvety skin of the pool table. “Hahhhn, ohooo, stoop, don’t rub there—Hic…!” Your hands grip the shoulder of his work shirt.

“Oh? Don’t like it when I do…this?” The blunt of Nanami’s fingertips scrapes the upper wall of your vaginal walls with a curled motion, and you lament with the jerk of your thighs. “But all I’m doing is rewarding my baby.”

His reward was specifically targeted to what you were wearing. Your opened buttoned-up shirt exposed your recent purchase of a new lingerie set; the complex design of the intimate clothing and the bold hue of the color–your favorite color–complimented your skin enchantingly. The blonde man behind you couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off you the moment you meekly showed off the bra of the set. 

“And judging by how tight you’re squeezing my fingers,” he says to your ear while another graze of your inner walls has you arch towards him. “You seem to love this, right, honey?” His free hand was groping one of your breasts; the material of the laced bra felt pleasant to the touch along the squish of your mound.

“Hoooh, ohhGod, Kento, please,” you were a whimpering mess literally in the palm of his hand; he’d made you come once already, so your insides had yet to subside from the acute height that kept you trembling to his touch. “I caan’t, no moooore…If you keep up, I-I’ll—“

“What?” He kisses your cheek, nearly having you give to your knees. “Don’t wanna cum on my fingers?” You shook your head hurriedly, enticing your neck for him to lay more gentle kisses. “What do you wanna cum on then, sweetpea?”

You use your hips to answer, grinding your wet southern lips on the zipper of his expensive, linen dress trousers. Yet, while he returns the motion with synced ruts to your chasm with the tent of his groin, it’s safe to say he doesn’t mind the mess. 

“This,” you moan with more rubs on his pants. “I wanna cum on you, Kent. Please, lemme cum on you…”

The sound of his chuckle has you twitching on his digits, wailing when he stretches your opening with a scissoring motion. “Good girl, asking so nicely…” With a hum, he withdraws his fingers from your warmth and brings your pricy underwear down to your thighs, brushing its garters. After bringing his trousers down and freeing his erection from his briefs, he grabs for the condom from his pocket to release from its wrapper. Once the rubber is on and fitted, Nanami guides his cock to the hole of your vagina. 

The insertion of the cockhead has you gasping sharply, the cue stick in your grasp being the only thing you can use as security as your sugar daddy pushes every inch of his shaft inside you. You could never get used to the girth, the stretch of his limb so euphorically good, and the graze of the tip on the sensitive itches that make you hiccup. And the hilt of his pelvis meets your folds, sighing now that his entire cock is finally one with you.

He rocks back and forth leisurely, careful not to have you released on him just yet. Both his hands now meet your chest, fondling the flesh of your breasts in such a loving fashion that you whimper with the pull of his dick. God, the way his tip perfectly rubs on your inner texture has your brows furrowed and eyes sewn shut, wanting to truly indulge in the sensation that piques the delicate keenness of your nerves.

“Ahaaa, ohoofuck,” you jolt when he suddenly throws a rough thrust to your ass; the stick in your hand hits two Aramith billiard balls to the long rails of the table. “Yesss, right there, Kentoo…! Feel so good…”

“Yeah, honey?” The weight of him on your back as he bends his frame above yours, speaking softly to your ear as if wanting you to shiver on his chest. “Feeling good?” You nod hurriedly with the tweak of your nipples under the rough pads of his fingers. “All cute and good for me…Want me to make you feel even more good?”

“Yes…Daddy,” Oh my, you used the title—a step you were cautious to use at the moment yet albeit eager for the results. And the sand-haired man snaps his hips abruptly, causing a shriek to sneak past you without noticing.

He’s done with the slow pacing—the rhythm now increased to a rapid cadence that evokes more sounds to escape with every rock of your figure. Gosh, you hope you weren’t leaving scratch marks on this man’s pool table. It would make you feel terrible damaging his property. However, that sounds like a worry to check back later when you’re not squealing your mind out.

“—Oooh!! F–fffshiiiit, Daddy!” Your eyes roll up at the scrape of your G-spot. “N–Not shoo fa—Ahhhh! T’oo muuch…!”

“But you’re too close to slow down, love,” Nanami kisses your cheek before slithering his hand to stuff his fore and middle fingers into your mouth. You sounded too cute mewing for him while sucking on his fingers. And it doesn’t help that the erratic ruts to your cunt have you shrilling even more, drool trickling down to your chin just to fall on the table surface. “Come on, sweetpea, let it all out…Hnnmm, let me feel it.”

The piston of his pelvis smacking the skin of your ass with the thick digits stuffed in your mouth is too much to follow through, the climb of your climax becoming more complicated to avoid as the milliseconds rush away. You submit to your growing dizziness as your peak shakes you down.

The orgasm has you screaming out loud, your legs trembling with the flutter of your walls around Nanami’s dick while he slowly plunges himself in and outward, relishing the snugness of your slit. You suck on his fingers hard, nearly choking on spit when your body is experiencing the pulses at its own pace. Your elbows wobble, giving way for you to slump down and accidentally hit an object ball with the cue stick, knocking onto another and pushing it an inch away from a pocket.

Nanami chortles, straightening himself to massage your waist through your aftershocks. “Nice backspin, sweetheart.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[monstersholygrail]

In The Darkness

Shadow demon x fem!reader— sensory deprivation, multiple orgasms, bondage (cuffs), groping, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, finger sucking, aftercare

Your shadow demon bf had opened your eyes and welcomed you into a whole new world of pleasure that was just waiting to you both to explore. And you have. You’ve done things you never thought you’d enjoy due to the love and trust you have in your bf. In return you’ve gained so many new experiences that you’d never want to take back.

At this point you’ve pretty much stopped asking questions whenever your shadow demon bf proposes that he wants to try something new with you. But this time you think you have to ask some questions.

Because when your shadow demon bf tells you that he wants to fuck you in complete darkness, you’re insanely confused. Sure, you two have never done that before. Always having on at least a candle so that you can see each other as your bf fucks your brains out. But this is far from the craziest thing you two have ever done and it’s left you having no clue what’s going on.

Still, you trust your bf. You follow his exact instructions and you relish in the submission of it. Of letting go of all thought and action, your bf’s voice being your only guiding light. Especially as the darkness surrounds you and it’s the only true thing you can grasp onto.

Tingles shoot up your spine. A smirk begins to play on your lips as you realize the possible appeal. A eery chuckle shifts through the darkness and you jump as a moment later two clawed hands firmly grip onto the waist of your bare form. The prickly tips of sharpened claws caress up and down the curve of your stomach, leaving sparks in their wake.

“What a vision you are in the darkness, my heart. Now do you see mine?” Your bf’s haunting yet alluring voice whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise along your skin and your smile widens, getting a sense of his intentions with this newest request.

His touch as gentle as the wind, coursing through the pathway of your body till he reaches your breasts and the caress turns firm and purposeful. Groping you and pulling you tightly into his large chest. Your grasp rings out through the dark silent space. It’s echos vibrating and increasing the tension between you.

Leaning back into the comfort of his embrace, you moan. Nothing else to turn to, to focus on, besides his touch. Bringing the sensations to a new height till you’re writhing against him before he’s even done anything to you.

“Near total sensory deprivation, the only real thing being my voice. All of your senses now completely at my mercy,” Shadow demon bf rasps darkly, finally giving you some of his reasoning behind all this.

You have to admit that the idea of it is arousing and your body agrees as your pussy floods with your essence. Always so nice and wet for him, you can’t help it. Everything he says has your nerves standing on edge and your cunt fluttering and begging to be filled.

Careful claws tease and tweak at your nipples, whimpers escaping you as you tremble in his secure hold. You cry out, rubbing your thighs together to gain any semblance of friction you can get. Yet it’s not enough, your hole so achingly empty and needing to be stuffed full. Your mind grows foggy and centers in on this one desperate thought.

“Lost in the void and who is the only thing that can ground you?” Shadow demon bf whispers into your ear again, his forked tongue slithering out and licking along the smooth curve of your ear.

The sensation is quick, tantalizing, and gone far too soon. You whimper, leaning back into him. Your body, floating as if on cloud nine, seeking out that skilled tongue of his. Knowing with every fiber in what’s left of your present being that you’ll get it. So long as you’re good for him.

“You are,” you croak out, voice weak and wanting.

A low rumbles moves through your bf’s chest in agreement, clearly pleased with your willing and eager response. The loss of his touch on your breasts, on your hard nipples, is a hit your floating mind can barely handle. A loud whine escaping you until his cool touch returns, moving along your curves. The further down he goes the less you can breathe, simply waiting.

“That’s right, my starlight,” he says as his deft fingers dip into your folds, spreading them and spearing themselves along your slit. Your breath knocks out of you, exhaling heavily as he ignites the nerves of your pussy lips. They clench and contort around him, mindlessly guiding the digits to delve inside your hole.

Shadow demon bf chuckles at the feeling, causing your cheeks to tinge with red. Thankful that even if he can feel you, he won’t be able to see you in your lewdness. Another thing the darkness around you provides. Another thing you’re looking forward to. Your bfs voice and the slow glide of his fingers snaps you out of your thoughts.

“You overwhelm me, sweet one. You are all I feel and all that grounds me to this plane. I believe it’s time I repay the favor.”

Shadow demon bf’s fingers don’t leave you as his other hand guides you to bend down at the waist. Your own arms reach out, carelessly searching through the darkness until you find it. Fingers curl around the metal cuffs suspended in front of you. The click of each lock as they enclose around your wrists has your back arching, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

“Look at you, so good and ready for me,” Shadow demon bf mumbles, drawing lazy circle against your clit as he kneels down on the ground behind you. You whimper and push back, though his free hand is quick to grab at your plush thigh. Keeping you in place.

His keen eyes reflect in the darkness, giving him access to view everything in front of him. Yet you remain completely clueless. Just how he wants you. Your legs spread further as his fingers slide back down your slit, giving him the sight of your beautiful dripping pussy. Your essence dribbling down your thighs and making such a mess. A mess he’s more than ready to clean up.

In an instant that tongue you’ve been waiting for is back and it’s back with a vengeance. Your body jolts, cuffs clanging and ringing in your ears, surprised by the sudden slick texture of his forked tongued sliding along your thigh and pushing through your folds. Not having expected more than his touch at the moment. The darkness riding you of knowing what’ll happen next.

Though your anticipation doesn’t have time to build as shadow demon bf glides his tongue through your folds, swirling around your clit in a mind-numbing manner. You moan, body rolling into the sensations but not knowing where exactly to move. Leaving you to squirm in search of your bf.

Shadow demon bf grins viciously and you can feel it against your cunt, knowing his enjoying this. Loving how you struggle and silently beg for more of him. His hands shift to your hips, both keeping you in place and letting you know where he’ll be.

All you get in warning is a growl before your bf begins ravaging your pussy, sloppily lapping up your cunt. His hands spread your ass cheeks, widening the entrance for his tongue to slide deep inside your weeping pussy. Pressure weighs down in your belly as your pleasure builds, rising onto your toes and giving him better access.

He grunts his thanks and repeats his rhythm with precise precision and never ending stamina. He doesn’t stop fucking his tongue into your cunt until you explode around it. Your walls clenching around his tongue, your essence gushing onto his tastebuds. Shadow demon bf growls and unhinges his jaw, taking in every last damn drop and working you through it.

Both of you are breathing heavily as your orgasm begins to fade and your bf leans back. You still can’t see, hear, or feel anything beside the cold metal around your wrists. The only noise your breaths. Aside from that the silence stretches on and it has the hair on the back of your neck standing up straight.

“Ready for more?” Your bfs voice suddenly growls in your ear and you shout. Body jerking back and you immediately bump into his broad frame and right into his huge girth. His erection nestling against your ass.

Your eyes scatter and search the surroundings over the shoulder you hear him from but you can’t see anything. Only darkness. Before you can respond your bf crashes his lips against yours and you let out another muffled shout. But you respond without a beat of hesitation, opening your mouth and welcoming his tongue back inside your body. Both of you moaning into it as your cum tickles your own tastebuds.

Shadow demon bf’s cock slowly starts grinding into you, neither of you breaking your kiss. You stay perfectly still for him, keeping yourself wide open and needy for his length. Still not getting your fill of wanting to be split in two.

With your body all prepped for him, your bf guides his dick through your folds. Whimpers leaving you as his tip bumps into your sensitive clit. Your bf nips at your tongue affectionately before you feel his big mushroom tip, leaking heavily with pre-cum, push at your entrance.

With a simply push forward, your bf breaks past your entrance, sinking down into your eager sopping cunt. Your jaw drops, a loud moan lights the room up with noise as his cock stretches your walls for all their worth. Forcing its way in and demanding you submit to its sheer girth and the pleasure it’ll bring. You relax as much as you can, practically sucking him inside of you.

Shadow demon bf growls, your walls nearly suffocating him you’re so fucking tight. When he bottoms out his tip nudges at your cervix. The pain sharp and aching but so delicious. You close your eyes, basking in it all. You feel so full and so complete with him inside you.

Your breaths mingle and mix in the space between your mouths. Eyes open you continue trying to search for your bf in the dark, even knowing it’s useless. Wanting to see how much of a mess you make him and even maybe wanting him to see just how thoroughly he destroys you.

By the way he draws you, making you feel every thick and bulging vein along his cock against your walls before roughly snapping his hips back inside you, you almost swear he can see you. That he knows how much of a mess you truly make him. But that’s impossible right?

All worries and thoughts leave you in the blink of an eye as Shadow Demon bf starts up his demolishing pace. Claws carefully sinking into you to keep you steady. A loud roar rumbles through the room and you jump in your bones, which only serves to push your body back into his intense thrusts.

Your bf grunts, clearly approving and you cry out as he starts moving your body back into his cock, having you meet the rough rolls of his hips. Your body tenses, cunt clenching down around him and having you feel even more full.

Tossing your head back, your teeth clench, pleasure crashing through you in waves you can’t even think to stop as there’s nothing else for you to ground yourself with. Your lost in the sea of pleasure, tingling sensations of arousal pulsing within your body and spreading out over and over again.

Your bf watches your body twist and contort in order to take his giant cock and everything it’s making you feel. A twisted satisfaction burns through him at how much of a beautiful mess you look. The sight has him picking up his pace, slamming his length inside you, molding your perfect pussy to his shape. Making his home here and showing you he’ll never leave.

Moans and cries of pleasure are no longer enough as you release a fierce scream. You can faintly hear your bfs low groan, his voice feeling so far away. Lost in the abyss your hands try and reach for something— anything. But the clang of the cuffs is all that rings true. Sparking an idea in your mind you try and reach forward, hoping you can ground yourself by placing the chain of the cuffs in your mouth.

But just as you reach it, Shadow demon bf pulls you back and burys his cock back inside your crying and begging cunt. Emotion wells up inside your chest and you sob, tears coming to your eyes. Your body moves back into your bfs chest and his voice comes back down to your ear.

“Sh, sh, sh, my love. It’s alright, you’re alright,” he whispers soothingly, hand coming up to stuff a few of his large fingers into your mouth. You whimper, sucking eagerly, letting the sturdy size of his digits ground you back down to earth and help calm you down.

His other hand soothingly caresses your stomach as he continues to fuck into you, his pace not slowing down for a second. Making sure to take care of all your needs at once. Small whimpers continue to leave you, feeling better as his presence surrounds you and stays in your mouth and pussy. You move back into his thrusts again, all on your own.

Tendrils of darkness creep up from the deep and curl around your body. Having been used to them they only provide further comfort to you. One long tentacle wraps up and strokes at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. With a firm press of his hand on your stomach and a few more snaps of his hips, you scream once more, this time around his fingers as your orgasm bursts through you.

Your cum paints Shadow demon bf’s cock, your walls spasming and clenching down on his length. Sparks shoot up his spine and his teeth sink into your shoulder as he follows right after you into climax, his heavy load splashing deeply against your womb and filling your pussy even more than you thought was possible. His hips still rocking into you until you both sag into each other.

Shadow demon bf slides out of you gently but you still hiss at the slight sting. As your combined release spills out of you, you shiver and clench down to keep it inside of you. Your bf lights the room with a snap of his fingers and you breathe a sigh of relief as your senses come back to you. As gently as always, he unlocks you from the cuffs. Massaging your wrists and kissing them adoringly.

He guides you to bed, whispering praises, recounting every moment of what just happened through his eyes. Letting you know how good you did, how perfect you were for him, how absolutely gorgeous you looked then and now, and asking how you feel to make sure you’re alright.

Pouring endless praise and love onto you as he cleans up the mess between your thighs before he sweeps you up into his arms the moment you two get into bed. Pressing soft kisses all of your face and sore body. It’s only as you finally relax do you register all his words.

“Could you see me in the dark?” You ask incredulously, voice slightly raspy as you connect the dots. Your bf chuckles and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading his response and forcing your own laughter down.

“‘Course I could, sweetheart. I’m a shadow demon,” he responds with amusement but your loud groan quickly overshadows his laughter. Red blooming across your chest and up your neck till it spreads all across your face. Your bf merely laughs louder, his hands caressing your back. Wanting to comfort you some before the inevitable teasing begins.

[eddies-ashtray]

white hot forever

Pairing: Logan “Wolverine” Howlett x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Most days exhaustion plagues him. But tonight, with his last dregs of energy, Logan cooks for you. Though he’s hungry for something far more enticing.

WC: 5.6k

Category: Smut (18+ ONLY, minors dni)

Content: Implied (non-specified) age gap, kissing, Logan throws reader over his shoulder/carries her, cunnilingus, unprotected pnv, reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, petnames (baby, old man, etc), beard burn, 1 single spank, some light nipple play, spitting, kinda dom logan/sub reader, light teasing/mocking, a dash of humiliation kink, lots of manhandling, an inordinate amount of animal metaphor/simile, mentions of logan’s exhaustion/aging due to the adamantium poisoning.

His biceps strain against the thin cotton of his white button-down–the sleeves rolled up–as he finely chops a red pepper. His heavy hand lends to the particularly booming sound of the knife landing on the wood cutting board. But you don’t mind, content to observe from your ideal spot on the countertop of the island. 

A half empty wine glass sits in your palm as your gaze lingers on the smattering of dark hair beneath the low-cut tank he wears under the button-down. 

The kitchen smells of the sweetness of the cooking oil he used and the warmth of nostalgia. Faint memories from childhood of your mother bustling around the kitchen as she prepared dinner linger at the edges of your mind, brought on by familiar scents. When you breathe it in, you also catch lingering traces of Logan’s shampoo and, faintly, sweat. 

“You ever…Ya know,” you pause, swirling the white liquid around. “Use the claws to chop an onion or something?”

Doing your best to suppress a smirk when Logan looks up at you from beneath his brows and pins you with a stern gaze, you hold his eyes. 

You quirk a brow, waiting for his response as a snort threatens to bubble up. 

A smirk cracks through his intense facade, crows feet deepening slightly. With an endearing shake of his head, he huffs a laugh through his nose. Logan’s a bit of a grump—even more so now that his hair has greyed and he’s let his beard grow somewhat unruly—but he’s not without a sense of humour. 

“No,” his voice, though signed with a note of playfulness, is as gruff as always when he rests the knife on the cutting board. “But as you know, they’ve been useful for…other things.” 

The word ‘other’ is loaded with intensity as the hand that previously gripped the knife handle lands deceptively gently on your right knee. It skates roughly up your thigh to thumb at the edge of your skirt. 

You only hum in response. Despite the warmth of the kitchen, a chill runs up your spine and you shiver involuntarily. You’re not sure how he does that. Dial things up to 100 before you can even blink. It keeps you on your toes, even a few years in.  

Now it’s his turn to quirk a brow–ever expressive–when his heavy gaze finally lifts from your legs.

Warmth begins to seep into your chest and stoke a small fire in your belly.

But the growing tension vanishes the moment a timer dings, shrill and intrusive. 

Pulling himself away from your skin to tend to the sound, Logan bends at the knees to pull a steaming dish from the oven. 

The crack of his joints is a quiet popping sound compared to the low grunt he releases when he stands back up to his full height to place the dish on the stovetop. 

He tosses a worn out dish towel over his shoulder–the same one he’d used to pull the food from the oven. 

Watching him carefully as he spins around in search of his whiskey glass, you remark, “You look handsome like this.” 

You pass him the liquor, his large hand wrapping around the glass. 

“Handsome like what?” he asks, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. 

It’s not often Logan has the energy for this. Long days drain him now. Like sweet syrup from a tapped tree, a slow drip that takes and takes.

“Just–in the kitchen with me. Cooking…Taking care of me,” you say. 

Another soft smile graces his lips and he presses a tender kiss to your cheek, a hand at your hip, and your face warms. 

Gulping down a healthy sip of his drink, his throat bobs as he swallows the auburn liquid. When the glass clinks against the marble as he puts it down, you notice droplets linger in his beard. Once you’ve placed your own glass down you reach to thumb away the beaded liquid.

“Hm?” he hums, though it’s more of a growl when he does it, the sound rumbling up from deep in his broad chest. 

“Just got some…” you trail off, expecting him to come to the natural conclusion himself when you lean in and cup his jaw. Feel the roughness of his beard against your palm as you swipe away the small droplet. “There.” 

Logan leans briefly into your touch to kiss the soft skin of your palm in thanks. The gesture makes your heart ache. 

You’re about to pull away, but Logan grasps your wrist in one strong hand, savouring your touch. He’s looking at you with an unexpected hunger behind his eyes as he feels the skin of your wrist beneath his rough palm. You can’t deny the way it revives the searing heat in the pit of your stomach. 

“What?” The word comes out more breathy than you’d intended. 

“Nothin’.” Logan shakes his head, holding your gaze. He releases your hand gently. 

The word lingers in the air between you. 

The way he says it–like it’s not really nothing–wires you right up again. You know he knows it too–his overly keen senses able to pick up the rhythm of your heart hammering against your ribcage. 

You need to expel the energy or let the tension snap but can only think of the intoxicating scent of whiskey on his breath. “You know, I’ve never tried whiskey.”

He’s quick to respond. “No? You want to?” 

“Okay.” It comes out in a whisper. The atmosphere feels too fragile for any other tone.

Logan grabs the crystal glass, just another sip or two remaining. He steals another as he steps in front of you, his left palm falling to your knee to push your legs apart so he has room to stand between them. 

He lingers above you and you lick your lips in anticipation, catching the way hazel eyes darken beneath furrowed brows. 

Then, Logan looks away and you watch as he places the glass down on the counter and his palms flat beside your thighs, effectively caging you in so you’re trapped in his space. Logan is all you can breathe, all you can see, all you can smell as your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths. 

Eyes finally returning to yours, his head tilts to the side–cocky, challenging. “Then give your old man a kiss.” 

A whimper nearly escapes you before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and hungrily pressing your lips to his like it’s an order. It may as well have been, gruff as he is. 

Logan grunts in response to your quick action, pulling your leg around his waist so your heel digs into the small of his back. 

The roughness of his beard rubs your chin and cheeks, a pleasant sting against sensitive skin. Though you’re soon distracted when his hand leaves your calf in favour of greedily running up your thigh. They leave heat and tingling skin in their wake, and you gasp into the kiss when he gives the meat of your thigh a generous squeeze. 

His desperation for you is matched only by yours for him as you wind your other leg around his hips to tug him closer. Grunting at your forcefulness, Logan finally slips his tongue into your warm mouth.  

The whiskey on his tongue is overpowering as he kisses you like he’s starving for it–the meal he was making long forgotten. Warm hands brush up the length of your spine, eliciting a subtle shiver, before one of his large palms cradles your skull like you’ll shatter without the support. 

His nose bumps yours as he deepens the kiss, licking into your mouth with fervour now. When his spare hand coasts over your chest to grab at your tits over your top, you arch into his touch with a moan like he demands it. 

When you bite his bottom lip he growls, long and deep. A renewed sense of desperation claws at your skin as your kisses become increasingly wanton and sloppy. Tangling tongues generate sounds bordering on obscenity. 

His claws may as well be dragging down your body, leaving bloody marks in their wake with the way his touch makes your skin sing. You hope he leaves bruises when he grasps at the flesh of your hips, pulling your lower-half flush against his pelvis. 

You can feel him, hard and straining against his black slacks. It’s impossible not to moan, lips leaving his as your mouth falls open to release the breathy sound. 

For a moment, you grind against his cock with your forehead pressed to his, using your hands wrapped around his neck as leverage. Feeling back muscles flex under your warm palms. The delicious slide of your soaked panties against his hardness is enough to drive you wild. 

A gasp is pulled out of you when your clit catches briefly on his tip beneath clean slacks. Logan growls through clenched teeth, pressing you into him harder, fervently rolling his hips. The sound makes your pussy clench around nothing. 

“Logan,” you whimper, aching for him as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Please.” 

“Fuck,” he rasps before he’s scooping you up off the counter, hoisting you up over his shoulder. Squealing at the surprise demonstration of his great strength, Logan strides through the kitchen and towards the living room. 

Desire burns deep in your belly as he carries you across the house like it’s nothing. He’s all broad chest, bulging biceps, and thick thighs. It makes you dizzy. You can’t help but reach out and pinch the meat of his thigh. 

“Hey!” He barks. 

Unsurprisingly quickly, Logan delivers a sharp smack to your ass and you yelp in shock, jolting against him. “So fuckin’ naughty.” 

The lingering sting coupled with his gruff tone has you squirming in his hold, whining low in your throat. 

In a single sudden motion, Logan manoeuvers you off his shoulder, dropping you onto the couch. And suddenly you feel deliciously small pinned beneath his hooded gaze. He towers over you. His staggering height emphasized from your perspective where you lay against the cushions. 

He’s assumed that authoritative stance that has every atom in your body buzzing–his arms crossed over his chest. This paired with his hard gaze is a lethal combination. He’s got that look in his eyes, like what am I gonna do with you? 

“Sorry.” Insincerity bleeds through your tone. You like to get him like this. To rile him up until he is more animal than man. 

Hazel eyes narrow as he grunts, disbelieving your weak apology. 

“You wanna be sorry?” He asks with a quick flick of his chin in your direction.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you nod. His chest rumbles with a deep sigh.

Unable to avert your gaze from his face, you bear witness to the glorious sight of Logan shedding his button-down. Your hips wiggle subtly in anticipation–though Logan would call it impatience. The cotton article is tossed carelessly over the chair by the couch.

He crouches down with a soft grunt, nods. “Okay.” 

Swiftly, you are tugged to the edge of the couch by Logan’s hands on your hips. Your skirt gets rucked up your waist, exposing you to the warm air of the house. Though it feels far more jarringly cool between your legs where you’re hot and wanting, pussy weeping for the older man before you.

“So fuckin’ soaked already,” He mutters, more to himself than to you. The comment has pleasure boiling low in your belly. 

“Logan.” He glances up at you briefly then returns his eyes to your cunt.  

You watch with rapture as his nostrils flare, no doubt overwhelmed by your scent this close to your centre. A predator ready to devour its prey. 

For the briefest of moments, Logan admires the wetness seeping through your panties, presses his thumb against the clothed, leaking well just to see your hips jump. Biting back a pathetic whine is far more difficult when his lips twitch into a faint smirk. 

There’s a change in his eyes in a split second where brows lower and pupils dilate. It’s then that he rips your panties down your legs and you swear you hear the distinct sound of fabric tearing. Gasping, you toss your head back between your shoulders, panting and warm all over. 

His chest rumbles with a guttural sound, savouring the sight of you spread open wide and dripping for him. 

Logan’s rough hands rub up and down your thighs, hungry. When they pause you swear you can feel his gaze burning a hole into the column of your throat. 

“Eyes,” He demands.

You obey, catching a glimpse of him stuffing your panties into his back pocket from where he kneels on the floor between your legs. 

The anticipation eats you alive, hips flexing, unable to remain still. Logan pins them down in an instant. 

Everything quiets. Tunnel vision casts out any and all sound or sight besides him. 

“Don’t move,” Is all he says before he’s diving in and devouring you, tongue hot on your sensitive skin. 

“Fuck!” you cry, hands plunging into his hair. 

He’s groaning the second his tongue licks up your cunt, dining on your taste. He gorges on you like he’s been deprived of your taste for far too long and he’s hollow without it. 

You’re drunk and dizzy on the way his beard scratches against your skin. The way the thick hair rubs against your cunt and sensitive inner thighs. A carnal craving satisfied. He’ll pull away after and be covered in you, unable to kiss you without smearing your desire across your own chin. 

The rough tug you give his hair causes him to grunt into you. He eats you out with zeal, an energy that so often eludes him these days. 

“Feels so good…Shit…So-” you babble on, only half aware of the praise spilling from your mouth.

For now, you are not sorry about his overzealous approach. But you will be. After, when the burn becomes a sting. When you are unable to walk for a week straight without feeling the roughness of his beard between your thighs. When he’ll reach over while he’s driving and squeeze your thigh meanly as a reminder. 

For now, you moan unabashedly as he nips at your clit harshly. Free roaming hands find warm skin, grabbing fistfulls of you. Rubbing your thighs, grabbing at your hips, spreading possessively over your stomach. Soon, his hand snakes under your top to squeeze at your tits, and you gasp sharply when he pinches your nipple between thumb and forefinger. 

The fire in your belly rages on, burning bright, spitting ash. 

“Logan,” You whine, long and drawn out, when he shakes his head back and forth animalistically, coating more of his beard in your wetness, your scent. He grunts against your pussy at the sound of his name hot on your tongue, the vibrations it causes driving you mad. 

His roughness makes your cunt throb. You derive as much pleasure from the sensation of his tongue licking up your slit and circling your clit as you do from simply watching him like this. His eyes shut in concentration, locked in as he laps up your juices like it sustains him. Like he is taking his fill of you before he hibernates for the winter. 

Just the obscene sounds of his hunger, the slurping and the groans emanating from deep within his chest are enough to prompt your hips to grind up into the pleasure his mouth provides. And he accepts all of it enthusiastically. 

You get lost in it, his wet muscle prodding at your entrance, licking up your slit to spread the wetness he’d collected over your clit. He sucks it between his lips, causing you to groan. 

Briefly, Logan pulls away, and you whine in protest. But his pause allows you to glimpse the parts of his beard that are now matted down with wetness. The sight causes warmth to spread across your chest, equal parts humiliation and pleasure. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he pants against your thigh, warm breath fanning over your puffy cunt. “Look at you,” he slurs, thumb rubbing over your pussy, spreading the wetness all over. 

Your hips jump and you whine again. Logan growls a quiet, desperate sound before diving back in, practically making out with your pussy and inserting two of his thick fingers into your heat. 

“Shit! Lo-” his name gets cut off with a girlish moan, a high sound only he could pull out of you, body completely overwhelmed by the excess of pleasure. 

“There she is,” he drawls, voice muffled and thick with lust before enveloping your clit in the warmth of his mouth and sucking. Your grip in his hair tightens as your hips grind into his mouth and down onto his fingers. Fingers which curl up into the gummy walls of your cunt, languidly brushing that sensitive spot inside over and over. 

Soon, slow movements evolve into quicker, but still consistent and deliberate, pumps into your weeping hole. It is precisely then that the ever-growing fire in your belly begins to consume you entirely. The moment Logan’s jaw goes slack and he begins to desperately lap at your cunt with a near entire loss of coordination, your vision goes white. 

Your orgasm crashes over you, an all-consuming force as Logan continues to fuck you with his fingers. It’s like you are bursting at the seams, coming apart in his hands. Every cell in your body catches fire as you roll your hips into his hand, riding out the waves of your climax. 

You’re panting as you come down, hips slowing to a stop as your body becomes over-sensitive to his touch. You twitch as Logan slowly pulls his fingers from you, his head falling to rest on your trembling thigh. 

“You know…For an old man, that was-” 

You suck in a sharp breath, hips jumping at the harsh sensation of Logan intentionally rubbing his beard over your already burning inner thighs. He chuckles lowly at your reaction, but is quick to soothe you, laying tender kisses across heated skin. 

Your hands trail down from his hair, and stroke a thumb softly over his cheek. He allows the sweet touches to continue for several moments before he pushes off his knees with a grunt. Logan falls onto the couch next to you, legs spread wide. Eyeing him in your periphery, you can tell he’s just as exhausted as you; his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.  

You’re still panting softly as you watch him, your limbs like Jell-O, skirt hastily pushed up past your waist, and top askew. The sight of him licking his fingers clean of you makes your clit twitch despite its sensitivity. 

Finally, he finds your eyes. 

“C’mere,” Logan rasps, patting his thigh. 

It takes great effort for you to crawl into his lap, and you don’t do it without some assistance. Logan’s hands grip your waist, pull you so you’re seated sideways over his thighs so as not to further irritate the burn. 

You wind an arm around his neck, tenderly stroking the hair at his nape. 

Logan rubs over the dough of your thighs, thumbs caressing between the split of them. Later, he’ll help you gently rub soothing lotion into them, but for now he’s all desire as he gazes down at where his hands press lightly into your legs. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks quietly. 

You can’t help but squirm in his lap a little, feeling him hot and hard beneath your thighs.

“Mmh,” you muse, staring down at his hands on you, legs raw and tingling. “Good.” 

You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, the warmth of his body beneath yours. “Yeah?”

You nod, meeting his eyes before cupping his jaw and scratching softly at his beard, feeling the lingering wetness there. Briefly, his eyes drift shut and he groans quietly. 

“How’s that feel?” you repeat his question back at him, teasing. 

Logan growls, grabs the back of your head, and desperately presses his lips to yours in answer. 

You moan softly into the kiss, holding his face in your hands as you lick into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue more than the whiskey now. 

Then you’re trailing your hands down his chest and pulling away only briefly to tug his white tank off before your fingers deftly begin to undo his belt. The metallic clink it makes, the sound of leather sliding against cotton as it comes off, only makes your pussy clench around nothing as you whine into his mouth. 

Your ardour makes Logan chuckle, breaking away from your lips in favour of kissing roughly down your neck. His hands now cup your jaw, allowing him to tilt your head back as his lips leave a trail of wet kisses across heated skin. You sigh as his beard tickles your neck. 

“So needy,” he mumbles into your skin. 

You groan and feel his smirk against the skin of your chest before he’s pulling your skirt and top off over your head and tossing them aside. 

Wanting hands find their way into his hair again when he pulls away from your skin momentarily. He enjoys having you completely naked in his lap while he’s still mostly clothed. You can tell from the way his nostrils flare when he drags in a deep breath, the way his tongue wets his mouth before he pulls you close and latches onto your nipple. 

He greedily licks and sucks and bites at one while palming the other in one large hand. 

“Logan,” you breathe his name like a prayer, pulling him closer with hands locked in his hair. 

His teeth graze your nipple, tugging it gently. Gasping in shock, your face twists up at the intense mix of pleasure-pain that swirls around in your gut. He releases your breast, breathing harshly over your now damp skin. 

Impatient and needy, you can’t help but squirm in his lap, rubbing yourself over his hardness. Surely, you’ll leave a damp patch on his clean slacks. The thought only spurs you on, movements becoming desperate. 

His cock twitches beneath you, tip probably an angry red and leaking sticky precum you selfishly wish to lick up. “Fuck, need to feel you, sweetheart.” 

The whine his proclamation elicits borders on pathetic, and in a rush you’re helping him tug his slacks down just enough that his cock can spring free. 

“So pretty,” you whisper, dragging your middle finger across prominent veins that run down his length, prompting him to twitch and hiss through his teeth.

Saliva begins to pool in your mouth, but you’re tugged back to Earth when Logan grabs your waist, ordering you to ‘turn around’. 

Body buzzing in anticipation, you allow him to manhandle you into the right position, savouring the feel of his hands manipulating your movements. 

“There ya go,” He praises, pulling your back flush against his chest. His hand sneaks up your chest. When it reaches your neck, he presses gently so your head falls against his shoulder. 

Your eyes meet as your chest heaves. 

“Open.” 

Eyes remaining on his, you part your lips. 

“Don’t swallow,” Logan instructs gruffly, brow quirked. He may as well have pointed a finger in your face, stern as he is. 

You nod quickly, and he leans forward slightly to spit thickly onto your tongue. It’s so obscene a tremor wracks through your body as heat spills into your gut. 

Hand below your chin, Logan closes your jaw for you, allowing his saliva to mix with your own before putting his hand in front of you, saying, “Spit.” 

You obey a little messily, some ending up dribbling down your chin. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he says, smearing the sticky mess over your already messy cunt. You whine, all high and breathy. Still slightly sensitive. 

Finally, he adjusts you, shoving you forward in his lap so he’s at the right angle to thrust into your wet heat. 

Tandem groans are released into the air the moment he fills you. A millisecond to adjust. To savour how deeply he fills you before his hands are at your waist to help guide your movements.

Using your own hands on his legs as leverage allows for slow, deep thrusts that make your body quake. Those first sweet drags of his cock against your slick walls are enough to make you shudder. 

Reaching a steady rhythm, you begin to pant, the exertion it takes to ride him like this tiring you out quickly. Though Logan is quick to help, supporting you with strong hands as he guides you up and down. Still, you’ve yet to lose your vigour. Entranced by the slow roll of your hips, the way his cock reaches the deepest parts of you in this position. His strong thighs bracketing your body. 

“That’s it…That’s it.” Logan grunts lowly, nearly delirious and wholly mesmerized by how your body takes all of him. How you stretch around him to accommodate his size. Hypnotized briefly as he hungrily watches the place where you connect. 

A gasp evolves into a moan as one of his hands leaves your waist in favour of seeking out the sensitive button at the top of your cunt. Clumsy fingers toy with your clit, slipping around messily. Flames lick at your nerve endings. On occasion he loses his place, unable to maintain a perfect rhythm from behind you, but just as quickly returns to circle the bud.  

Another hand moves to your belly, pulling your body backwards, his sweat-slick chest now pressed up against your back. You wish you could drag your nails down his broad chest, watch as he loses himself in the feeling. But the closeness this position allows is worth the sacrifice. 

Being nearly immobilized pressed up against him like this, giving him full control of your body, it feeds some deep desire. It’s the reason your head has gone a little fuzzy. He knows it too. He knows it when you let a whine slip past your lips. When you begin to grind back against him needily. 

“Feel good, baby?” he rasps. At the same time, he rubs his middle finger over your clit in time with a deliciously deep thrust. All you can do is throw your head back against his shoulder, another wanton moan clawing its way up your throat, directly into his ear. That’s all the answer he needs. 

Logan grunts in response. Pistoning hips setting a rhythm that is both intimate and punishing, making you dizzy. His closeness makes you dizzy. Those low grunts in your ear are enough to drop pearls of pleasure into the pit of your stomach. All of it contributing to the growing fog in your mind. 

You writhe against him, an arm wrapping around the back of his head, keeping him close with a hand buried in his hair. Your other hand remains locked onto his forearm as it flexes with each rub of your sensitive clit. 

Logan begins to grunt animalistically into your ear, unabashed about his desire for you. You feel it in the way his strong arms grip your body, ensuring your security. In the way he lets moans and grunts and groans rumble up from his chest, unafraid to let you hear what you do to him. 

His hands all over your body, the deep strokes of his cock that reach the deepest parts of you, his soft grunts in your ear–it all feeds the flames in your belly. 

“Fuck. S-so full,” you mewl, overwhelmed tears springing to your eyes. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he placates, tone edging on mockery. His voice sends shockwaves through your body. The sweet humiliation it brings presses into your skin like a brand, leaving it white-hot. 

More. You need more of him. 

Desperately, clumsily, you grind back into him enthusiastically, writhing in his grasp. The rhythm turns staccato and messy as a result. But it doesn’t matter. You just need more.

You whine, turning your head towards him and he gets the hint, meets you halfway and licks hotly into your mouth the moment your lips meet. Your hands twist in his hair. 

It’s messy and uncoordinated and your neck hurts twisted to kiss him like this. But then there’s the fiery taste of whiskey. And you. And him, his cigars. And the pain–it’s worth it. It’s necessary. 

When you break away, only a thin line of saliva connecting your mouths now, it’s to gasp. Your brows furrow, pleasure twisting your insides. 

You go cross-eyed trying to hold his gaze, and he grins. It’s a wolfish thing. A flash of his teeth, lips kissed red and puffy. The sight makes your pussy clench around him. 

A smile tugs at your own mouth, probably fucked out and hazy with pupils blown wide. It only grows when the hand gripping your waist skims over your hot skin. On its journey, he grabs at your tits, pinches your nipple. Every sensation now blends together, overwhelming you with pleasure.

His hand pauses at the base of your neck where it grazes over the stretched expanse of skin. 

A teasing squeeze. Once. Your brows knitting together. Twice. Your mouth dropping open. His grip not quite tight enough to cut off airflow and elicit that floaty feeling. But enough to make you whine low in your throat. You are at his mercy.

Eyes drifting shut, you cry out, feeling your climax building at the pit of your stomach. Breathy moans escape you with each rub of his finger over your sensitive bundle of nerves, edging on overstimulating. Each sharp thrust drives you closer to that edge, setting your body alight. 

“Y’gonna come, honey?” Logan pants, voice hoarse. 

These escapades exhaust him now. You’ve witnessed the way it sinks into his bones after. But there’s also the hint of a grin in his voice. Along with desperation. Desperation to feel you fall apart. An indication that the pleasure he provides, the pleasure he receives, is worth the exhaustion. It’s rewarding for him. 

Your answer is the most pathetic whine, high and wanton as overwhelmed tears blur your vision, threatening to spill over. “Uhuh.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, and you swear his fingers were made to make you come apart at the seams when he rubs over your clit like that. Like it gives him pleasure too.

“Yeah,” you say, breathless, barely moving over his cock as he pounds into you from below, his strong legs beginning to tremble. 

“Yeah,” Logan repeats. Mockery is thick on his tongue, a faux pout playing at his mouth. You lose it. 

Everything else falls away. Tingling heat spreads beneath your skin as you finally let go. Your body thrums with your release, the feel of his damp skin at your back, his hands on your body, how full of him you are. 

 Logan has little room to be cocky. Because the moment you begin to clench around him–cunt pulsing with each wave of your orgasm washing over you–he’s grunting curses into your shoulder, leaving bite marks on the tender flesh as his warm seed spurts into you. 

He shudders with his release. 

“Fuck,” he growls, grinding up into you, his grasp on your body tightening. 

In a flash, he removes his hand from your throat. And, distantly, past your post-coital fog, you hear the sound of metal unsheathing rapidly. You glance to your right.

Retracting claws reveal three deep holes pierced into the faux leather, showcasing thick wire springs and white stuffing. 

Blearily, you drag your hand down his arm, running over hair and slowly aging skin. Reaching his wrist, you bring his hand up to your mouth, cup it in both of yours. You smooth your thumb gently over the edges of his knuckles, watch for moments as the holes very slowly begin to close. 

You kiss his knuckles thrice. Once over each slowly healing wound. 

Eventually, the skin will mend. The wounds will be nonexistent. They will heal in time. But his body is exhausted. And every time the claws come out, the cracks in his skin take longer and longer to repair themselves. 

He collapses beneath you, rugged breaths pulled from tired lungs. 

Carefully, he slides out of you and you help him tuck himself back into his boxers. Press a kiss to his forehead. 

A whisper of, “Be right back.” against heated skin before leaving on unsteady legs to clean yourself up. His desire is a slow leak down your thighs now. 

If he were a younger man, still full of strength and agility, he’d have done this part for you. You know he wishes he could. Part of you wishes he could too. But you like to take care of him too. 

When you return, he’s still sunken into the couch, chest bare and sweaty. He accepts the glass of water you bring him, gulps it down thirstily. 

Cuddling up next to him now, you brush the sweat-damp hair back from his face. You’ll allow him to pull you close. You’ll hold each other, stroke the skin beneath his eyes tenderly. The fresh dark circles there. And he’ll press soft kisses against the lingering bite marks on your shoulder, whisper praise into your ear. 

When his honeyed eyes catch yours, you know he longs to spoil you. To scoop you up in his arms and take you to bed. 

But this takes a lot out of him now. It will be days–maybe more–before you’ll be able to do something like that again. 

So, you’ll take care of him. He’ll insist on having you underneath him. Begrudge the fact that the exhaustion will have yet to be leached from his bones. But acquiesce the moment your hands reach beneath his belt. 

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are greatly appreciated :)