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theorist-fox · 1 day ago

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Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

18+

Word count: 1k.

CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

You look delectable straddling his hips.

Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.

He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.

Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.

He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job.

But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard.

Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.

But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.

You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.

Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.

Your eyes widen, and his do the same.

“Don’t.”

You gasp, “Oh my God.”

“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.

Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.

“Darling, yes.”

Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.

His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.

He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.

He would never.

You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.

And then, he knows he's done for.

“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.

Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.

“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.

“Fuckin’-“

You chuckle.

You evil little cunt.

Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.

It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.

His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt.

“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”

He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.

Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.

“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.

It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.

But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.

He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.

It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.

Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”

Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.

He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.

“Simon, yes.”

#does this fall in the Awkward Simon Riley?#nah he's just a guy #silly sex is my fav sex if it involves emotionally unavailable men #theo drabbles #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #fanfic #ghost x reader #smut #cod smut #x reader #cod fluff #give the man some fluff

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fastandcarlos · 2 days ago

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One Domesticated Man : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: lando tries his best to prove to you that he can be a domesticated guy

“If I find one more of your dirty pairs of pants lying around I’m going to swing for you Lando Norris!”

A mischievous grin appeared on Lando’s face as he heard you shout through the house, watching as you walked into the bedroom to where he was.

He was busying himself, placing the washing that you had done for him back into his wardrobe, sorting through what he needed to pack with him as he prepared to head off again for the next rest on the calendar.

“I just forget to pick them up sometimes,” he innocently smiled, “there’s so many other things on my mind, my pants are the least of my concerns.”

Your eyes rolled as you threw the pants into the washing basket before watching him. His brows were knitted together as Lando tried his best to fold one of his shirts. You watched for a while before snatching the shirt out of his hands, showing him how it was done.

“I’m learning,” Lando defended as you threw the top into the drawer of his wardrobe. “No one’s ever really shown me how to do all of this stuff, I’ve just had to learn how to do it all on my own.”

“Lando, you barely do anything,” you sighed, sending him a knowing glance. “When was the last time that you hoovered? Or took the rubbish out for bin collection day?”

There was a brief pause as Lando let what you said sink in, realising for himself how little he did around the house, watching as you usually darted around and got everything sorted out for the both of you.

“Remember when I washed up the other day?”

“What? In cold water, of course I remember.”

Whilst Lando laughed, your eyes rolled, finding yourself often having to go back and fix things once he’d done them. Lando was far from the most domesticated man in the world, relying on others to get him by with how little time he actually spent at home.

You folded the last of Lando’s bits before leaving him to it, walking downstairs and into the kitchen as you started to get yourself sorted for preparing dinner.

Soon enough footsteps followed behind you as Lando joined you in the kitchen, sitting up on the worktop. You could tell straight away that he was bored, following you around like a shadow.

“How can I help you?” Lando asked as he watched you open up the fridge. “You always sort dinner out, so I want to be able to help you out tonight.”

Your eyes flickered around to look back at Lando, “is this because of what I said upstairs? It’s alright Lando, go and do something if you want, I really don’t mind.”

“No, I want to help and do something around here.”

Your head nodded, opening up the cutlery drawer and taking out a knife, placing it down on the chopping board, tapping it for Lando to move across to.

“You can be trusted with this, can’t you?” You teased, pointing at the knife. “I’m not going to end up having to drive you to hospital, right?”

“I’m not completely incompetent babe.”

You took the vegetables and showed Lando how you wanted them cut, making sure that your instructions were clear, making it impossible for Lando to go wrong. He listened intently to what you had to say, determined to prove to you, and himself, that he could help.

There were a few nerves as Lando got started, his eyes full of concentration as he chopped things up. He didn’t want to put a foot wrong, it was a simple job, but for some reason Lando felt the pressure.

“Maybe once we’ve eaten tonight, we could look at building your new desk for your office,” Lando suggested as he stopped for a moment, noticing you freeze beside him.

“Washing, cooking, building, are you sure that you’re going to cope?”

Lando’s head nodded, an excited smile on his face, full of encouragement. “I promised you weeks ago I’d build it and I haven’t, it’s unfair to leave you waiting around for it any longer.”

“Do we have the equipment to build it though?”

Lando gasped, his head nodding back at you, with his toolbox hidden around somewhere. He wasn’t quite sure when he last used it, but he knew with a bit of a search around he’d locate it. It was an old one, one that his dad gave to him for times like this, one that Lando had very rarely used.

He could still feel your eyes watching him, doubtful as to how things would go, knowing that construction anything more than Lego was a tricky job for Lando.

“I can do it,” he assured you, his voice a lot more insistent. “And if I get stuck then I know where you are so you can come and help me.”

There was a confidence in Lando’s voice that had you trusting him, having done most things yourself, you weren’t going to deprive him of his chance to be a little more domesticated.

“If you want to help out, I’ve got a long list of things that need doing around the house,” you smiled, walking over and snaking your arms around his waist. “I could keep you entertained for weeks with all these jobs.”

“You’re right though, I should be doing more to help you,” Lando whispered.

“You’re busy Lando, when you come home it’s important that you rest,” you replied, resting your head against his back. “I’m not expecting anything from you.”

You didn’t expect, but Lando did of himself. He’d never thought about how much he contributed around the house, but now that you passed a comment, even just a joke, it definitely had Land thinking.

“You’re busy too, just because you’re not flying around the world to do it. We’re a team, therefore this house needs to be taken care of by two people,” Lando assured you.

“If you want to do more, then I guess I wouldn’t mind.”

Lando nodded as he finished up the job that you had given him, with your body still pressed up against his. He wanted to learn and do more, hoping one day to teach his own child how to do all of the jobs that his dad had taught him to do.

I really do, more than anything.”

You could see just how sincere Lando’s eyes were, how serious he was. The thought of you continuing to run around after him was one that made him feel so uneasy.

“Why don’t we have dinner and then we can build the desk together?” You proposed, “that way you can help out, and we can have fun doing it together.”

“I’d like that, a lot,” Lando whispered, “I want to be more domesticated, like those men you see in all the movies, the ones who can just figure everything out, can take on a job no matter how big or small.”

“You want to be a hero?” You teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “What am I supposed to do though if you’re doing all of these jobs for me now.”

“You can just sit and relax,” Lando instructed, “that’s the least that you deserve anyway, I don’t want you to do anything other than that.”

“I can just sit and tell you when you miss a bit,” you laughed, “or when you’re not doing a good enough job.”

“That’s the least that I’d deserve, right?”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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crtter · 22 hours ago

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Hey everyone, given the recent news and all, I imagine some people might be considering leaving the country if the hostility aimed towards and the loss of rights of women and the LGBT+ community keeps on increasing during this second Trump presidency. Immigration is an extremely bureaucratic process in most countries, though, so if I could suggest a potential alternative, easier way out of the US if it ever comes to a point where such a thing would be needed, Brazil, my home country, is particularly friendly and considered a “model country” when it comes to our laws regarding requests of asylum. For example, people who apply for a refugee status in Brazil:

• Have a very good chance of being granted it. Just last year, over 77 000 people were granted asylum in Brazil [1]

• Are almost never under the risk of being deported, even if they came to Brazil under unregulated means and/or under fake documents [2]

• Have the benefit of a very straightforward, 100% free of charge process to apply for asylum that doesn’t require a lawyer and can be done almost fully online through filling a form on a website, with the exception of getting a physical copy of your application process at the nearest federal police station [3] and

• While getting an official refugee status can take a long time (sometimes up to two years in certain cases), just by being officially registered as being in the process of obtaining said status, asylum-seekers have the right to obtain “temporary” valid Brazilian IDs, a legal work permit and also are granted rights identical to those of Brazilian citizens, such as the right to free education, free healthcare, and social assistance. Apart from having to renew those documents once a year, these privileges are never revoked [4]

Most importantly though, the Brazilian Refugee law of 1997 defines a person eligible to obtain refugee status as being, between other criteria, someone who

“has well-founded fears of persecution for reasons of race, religion, nationality, social group or political opinions, finds themselves outside their country of nationality and is unable or unwilling to seek the protection of that country” [5] which includes members of the LGBT+ community, as it’s explicitly stated in the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees website that

“Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex people may be eligible for refugee status [in Brazil] on the grounds of persecution due to membership in a particular social group. UNHCR recommends that people who are subject to harm, inhuman treatment or serious discrimination because of their sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression or intersex status and whose governments are unable or unwilling to protect them should be granted refugee status.” [6]

To sum it up… if things escalate to the point where you feel like you’d be safer leaving the US than staying in it, Brazil is one country that would welcome you practically immediately. Tumblr tends to bury posts with links so I’ll add sources on a reblog, along with more information.

#Reporting live #Current events

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maxv331 · 2 days ago

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✮ What happened to hello | Lando Norris ✮

Summary: Quick little drabbled based on all the speculation of Lando getting a bad haircut because he wore his hat so much at the Mexican GP

Warning: none :)

word count: 848

a/n: I haven't wrote in a long time so I'm pretty rusty, go easy on me! I also wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to wrap up the ending, so yeah, sorry for that!

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

“Take the hat off Lando” You playfully demand with a squint of your eyes as soon as Lando’s face appears on your laptop screen.

You’re currently on day 14 of being apart since Lando left for the triple-header and it’s eating you both alive. You haven’t been apart for longer than seven days at a time, in almost a year. Everyone around you, even the fans, call you two codependent, but really, you were just in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible.

Between the time zone differences and you both working so much, you’ve found it difficult to spend much time together. You’ve found comfort in being able to keep up with Lando from all of the fan and official F1 content posted online.

You’ve gotten a giggle out of all the speculation surrounding Lando’s hair. It started on the first media day in Mexico, when it appeared Lando had gotten a haircut, but his hat stayed on the entire day.

The next day was when the rumors actually started, Lando hadn’t taken his hat off again and every fan you came across was freaking out and cracking jokes that Lando got a bad haircut and was embarrassed about it.

Initially, aside from enjoying all the posts, you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming Lando was mostly wearing the hat because of the heat; but then you realized Lando hadn’t sent you any photos without the hat on, and the handful of late night facetimes you had, he was already in bed with his hoodie up and it was mostly dark.

Whenever you and Lando are apart, you always made sure to keep each other still included in the day to day parts of your lives; you were always sending photos, videos and voice notes until you could facetime or be with each other again.

Lando hadn’t changed your familiar routine, he just never had hair showing, which was a little odd, but nothing concerning. You admittingly missed the post shower selfies or the sweaty, messy haired, tired post race selfies.

You’re instantly met with a giggle from Lando “What happened to hello baby.” Lando’s sat in his drivers room, he’d got a couple hours break between practice and qualifying and wanted to make the most of your shared free time to squeeze in a quick facetime with you.

“Hello baby” You grinned cheekily. “I’ve missed you so much, did you get a bad haircut?” You giggled

Lando raised an eyebrow as another giggle slipped past his lips. “Did I get a bad haircut?”

You nodded quickly “You haven’t taken your hat off the entire time you’ve been in Mexico, so show me”

“And how would you know that, hmm?” Lando asked with a smirk. Lando was initially confused, but now all he wanted was to play into the fun he was having.

A bright rosy blush crept up your cheeks as you briefly glanced away from Lando on the screen. Lando’s now grinning mischievously, enjoying getting to tease you. “Do I need to talk to Osc or have you been creeping on me?”

Before you even get a chance to answer, Lando starts giggling again and shaking his head. You pout and cross your arms. “A bad haircut is the only explanation for the hat and not getting my selfies”

“Your selfies?” Lando questions, once again raising an eyebrow. He knows exactly what selfies you’re talking about, but one thing about Lando Norris is that he loves to tease his girlfriend.

“I want my post race selfies back Lando”

Lando smiles widely, taking a moment to take in all of your soft sweet features. Lando hadn’t intentionally been keeping anything from you, the few days he had been in Mexico had been busier than usual and it slipped his mind. “I’m sorry my love, I promise you’ll get one after quali”

“I better” You murmur, arms still crossed against your chest. You did miss the selfies, but you weren’t actually annoyed with him, in fact any feelings that even remotely resembled annoyance or hurt from the past few days all stem from a place of missing Lando.

Lando knows you better than you know yourself, so he knows that if he doesn’t do something in the next few minutes, the call is going to take a sharp turn from playful and fun to somber and probably leave at least one of you in tears. Neither you or Lando were one to shy away from your emotions, but if Lando could hold off on it, until he could guarantee you his undivided love and attention, that's what he’s going to do.

Lando winks at you, before taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. “Is that better my love?”

A small gasp passes your lips, before you break out into the widest smile that Lando had seen in weeks. “Lando!” You squeal happily. “You look so handsome, why have you been hiding your hair?”

“I haven’t been hiding my hair, you doughnut,” Lando laughed. “It’s hot and I like my hat”

#Lando Norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x you #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #ln4 #Lando Norris fluff #lando norris

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sceletaflores · 1 day ago

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I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent.

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts.

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning.

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more.

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you.

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved.

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure.

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure.

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist.

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain.

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer.

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours.

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow.

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest.

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt.

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

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incorrectbatfam · 1 day ago

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i'm so scared

what will happen to my future

Everyone, take a deep breath.

Now, I cannot tell you what's going to happen for certain. All I know is things are gonna get more tense as steps will be taken backward and people will become more divided.

As we regroup, the first thing we need to do is evaluate the cards each of us hold. It'll look slightly different for each of us. It could be aspects of your identity that act as a protective factor. It could be your financial standing, education, connections, or platform. It could be the city or state you live in that allow more opportunity for progress.

After that, you assess the risks. That means determining where you are in terms of safety and how to protect yourself. What that also means is asking yourself what risks you are willing to take. I'm a stubborn ass who has no qualms taking direct action and the only way I'm leaving is if I'm dragged out kicking and screaming. I know that's not something that can be expected from everyone, but for every person that lays low, we also need people who are willing to take those risks and cause a scene.

These two components come together in the actions we take. Petitioning and protesting. Donating and volunteering. Providing counsel and sanctuary. Supporting nonprofits, libraries, and local businesses while boycotting the corporations working against our best interests. Educating ourselves, listening to people being affected, and raising kids to be empathetic people. Most importantly, it means voting at every level every time, not just when there's a candidate that aligns perfectly with your views.

And it is so tempting to find someone to blame, especially when half the country voted for this guy and a bunch of people didn't vote at all. You're scared. You're angry. So am I. These emotions can be useful tools, but they can just as easily devolve into hate—it's the easiest way to think in the face of uncertainty, but the least productive. Don't let the powers that be convince you that your neighbor is your enemy. We are only doomed if we stop having each other's backs.

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ellecdc · 2 days ago

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i have a small idea! (this totes bounced off that one poly!marauders pregnancy post)

sirius would absolutely find comfort laying on readers belly later on in her pregnancy animagus style🐾

I loved this! you must've read my mind; yesterday I was considering sending out a request for any pregnant!reader or dad!marauders prompts!

poly!marauders x pregnant!reader who Padfoot is obsessed with [1.4k words]

CW: fem afab!reader, pregnancy, discourse regarding shower temperatures

“Wait, so, explain to me why you can’t both just take a shower together?” Remus asked as he followed Sirius and James into the flat, the two boys having argued nearly the whole way home from the shops over who was going to get to shower first.

Sirius made a derisive scoffing sound as if Remus had asked something particularly ridiculous.

“Remus.” He muttered like he was talking to a troublesome toddler. “My hair and skin are only as beautiful as they are because I don’t scald myself under water heated by hellfire.”

“My showers are not that hot, Pads.” James argued, though Remus could hear the smile in his voice.

“My gods.” Sirius breathed out. “It’s starting to affect your brain cells too.”

James made an offended sound and swatted at Sirius. “Fine, out with you then; go take your freezing shower, but don’t come looking for me for cuddles when you can’t stop shivering.”

“I’d sooner find Moons for warm cuddles.” Sirius responded haughtily. “Those werewolf genes keep him nice and warm.”

Remus hummed in acknowledgement. “Dove may just have me beat there soon.”

All three boys took a moment to sigh lovingly at the thought of you; growing and stretching and likely more than a little uncomfortable but doing it so gracefully nonetheless.

“Sirius if you’re just going to sit here with hearts in your eyes…” James started, though he didn’t need to finish his threat when Sirius turned and took off in the direction of the shower.

“You do come out of the shower a little pink, love.” Remus murmured into the side of James’ face once he knew Sirius was out of earshot.

James scoffed but leaned into Remus’ embrace. “How does he know that hot showers aren’t how I get my hair and skin so beautiful?”

“Fair enough.” Remus laughed before he moved to put the groceries away. “But I don’t want Y/N getting into any showers with you; we don’t want her blood pressure rising.”

James hummed in agreement. “But you may have to tell her that; her showers are equally steamy.”

“Okay,” Remus agreed, “family meeting tonight about appropriate shower temperatures.”

The two worked through the kitchen in relative silence before James slowed in his movements; dark brows furrowing behind his wire frames. “Speaking of showers, I don’t hear one running.”

“Did he seriously fight you for dibs over the shower and then not get into the shower?” Remus laughed, causing James to stalk down the hall muttering something under his breath along the lines of “stupid no good sodding handsome boyfriend, going to be the death of me”.

Remus waited for the inevitable yelp when James startled Sirius from behind, digging his fingers into his ribs in punishment.

He waited for the two of them to start trading insults - far louder than necessary - that quickly divulged into heated kisses where they pressed each other up against various solid surfaces.

Except no yelps, no tickles, no insults, and no passion could be heard.

In fact, it was quiet…too quiet.

“Is there some weird portal in the flat that my partners keep disappearing through or something?” Remus called as he moved in the direction of the bedroom. “And where’s dovey?”

But the answer only came when Remus rounded the corner into their bedroom - nearly colliding with James who had paused just inside the doorway - to find you asleep, curled up on your side in bed with a placid looking Padfoot curled up behind you and his head resting on your waist; your ever growing bump (that you’ve insisted cannot possibly grow anymore) dutifully under his chin.

Remus made an affectionate tsking sound as he took in the sight. “Did you get distracted, Pads?” And the dog’s tail began thumping loudly against the bed, though Remus could tell Padfoot was working very hard to not move his body in any other way lest he disturb you.

The three of you always joked that whatever Sacred 28 gene allowed Pureblood's to appear impassive, bored, and to expertly save face was absent in Sirius, who never bothered hiding a single one of his emotions; the way he was feeling always displayed loudly and proudly on his face, though he claimed that was by choice rather than design.

But for as expressive or closed off as Sirius could or couldn’t be, Padfoot didn’t have a poker face to save his life.

An almost embarrassing coo left James’ lips as he made his way to the bed, kneeling carefully on the edge of the bed so as to not disturb you, before reaching over to place a hand on your bump.

Padfoot, for his part, snapped his jaw playfully at James, pretending to bite his wrist only to then lick his arm aggressively when James diverted his loving caress to the top of his head instead.

“She’s been so tired lately.” James murmured to no one in particular once Padfoot seemed appeased and he moved his hand to push some hair back from your forehead.

“You try building an entire new person from scratch.” Remus chuckled quietly, moving to stand behind James but pausing when Padfoot’s head shot up.

The canine stared down at your midsection with his ears standing straight up in the air before tilting his head comically at a nearly 90 degree angle.

James laughed, making a breathy ‘wha-’ sound when Padfoot’s head snapped in the other direction, snout still pointed dutifully at your stomach.

The dog let out a quiet whimper and pressed his wet nose into your side, causing James to laugh and Remus to tsk chidingly at him for risking waking you up.

“Is he kicking, Pads?” James asked then, moving his hand to the now damp spot on your shirt from where Padfoot poked you so rudely as the dog’s tail thumped excitedly on the bed.

“Please.” Remus scoffed playfully as he reached forward to place his hand next to James’. “Don’t you mean she?”

“They” you corrected suddenly - though your eyes remained closed - as your boyfriends (two human and one currently canine) hovered around your midsection “are lucky they’re so loved when they’re currently using my ribs as a kick drum.” Your breath hitching in time with James and Remus’ hands feeling a strong thump and Padfoot’s head tilting the other direction.

“Awe, I’m sorry, angel.” James cooed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You should be.” You grumbled, though Remus could see the faint upturn in the corner of your lips. “It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” James shrilled.

You hummed in agreement. “They were very well behaved before you showed up.”

“How do you know it’s not Moony’s fault?”

You cracked one eye open to look at Remus who simply winked at you.

“Just do.”

“Pads?” James tried then.

“If it was Sirius, I would say the chances were equal.” You admitted as you settled back into the pillow. “But baby is well behaved for Padfoot.”

“Well…” James started, looking helplessly between his partners. “Well this is just not fair.”

You let out a groan and shoved your face into the pillow at the interruption of your nap when Remus finally took pity on you.

“Wasn’t someone supposed to be showering?”

James looked over at Padfoot who simply stared back at him before letting out a long sigh and resting his head back down on your belly. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Looks like there’s been a change of plans, Jamie.” Remus translated.

“Fine.” James grumbled, though Remus could tell his ire was only for show. “Do you wanna join me, Moons?”

“I showered this morning.” Remus declined as he took James’ spot next to you on the bed.

“I’ll shower with you, Jamie.” You offered as you went to rise, pausing when all three boys protested.

Well, James and Remus protested. Padfoot let out a bark.

“You should rest, angel.”

“Leave Jamie to his hellfire showers.” Remus agreed. “I’ll run you a bath after dinner, how does that sound?”

Apparently that sounded lovely, because you easily fell back into your pillows with a smile on your face, a dog resting its head on your stomach, and Remus rubbing his thumb lovingly against your temple.

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yanmuffins · 2 days ago

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waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!! ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

#anonymous #asks.#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batman #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 days ago

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HELLOOO idk if ur requests are on rn so take ur time with this request and get to it at ur own time but i was wondering if u could make a short one shot fic abt reader who is in a relationship with katsuki and is at home while he's out in patrol and she sees his location with life 360 and sees that he's beside some sort of restaurant or supermarket so she texts him smth like

i see ur beside the ramen place i like can u buy dinner tonight 😊

AND THEN KATSUKI IS JUST 🤬🤬🤬 WTF HOW DO U KNOW WHERE I AM ARE U OUTSIDE RN

all lighthearted and funny :))

THANK UUU SO MUCHH 💞💞

LMFAOOOO thjs js so funny😭😭😭 tysm for this ask i hope i did it some justice :33 hope you’re still stickin around to read it anon ! Short lil drabble, much luv xx

“since you’re by that ramen place i like you can get some for dinner 💋💕”

“ ? what the fuck”

“?? where are you.”

“?”

before you can send another text message, your phone lights up with your boyfriend’s caller id, you giggle.

“hi, baby.”

“where the fuck are you at ?”

you snort, readjusting on your sofa “what are you talking about ?” you ask teasingly.

you catch the sound of people talking as you hear katsuki grumbling to himself “i don’t see you.”

you giggle, kicking your legs a little “and why would you need to see me ?”

katsuki groans, already exasperated and growing more and more impatient, you’re surprised he hasn’t started cursing your entire bloodline yet “quit it with that mysterious bullshit, how do you know where i’m at.”

and just to mess with him, you respond “i see you.”

it’s quiet on his end for a moment, aside from the chatter on the street “yn. i’ll fucking kill you.” you throw your head back and laugh “once i find you, you’re done for. your ass is grass.”

“i like it when you talk dirty to me.” you joke, he scoffs hard on the other end “freak.” you hear him mumble, you giggle some more.

“i’m at home, just saw your location and decided to ask you to get me some food.”

“get you some food.” he bites, scoffing in disbelief.

“us, get us some food. pretty please, suki ?” you use your sweetest voice, maybe he might even be able to imagine your puppy dog eyes through the phone.

he laughs sarcastically “right. what makes you think you deserve to get anything after that little stunt you pulled, huh ?”

you pout, whining so he knows you are “i was just kidding, was jus’ a little jokey-joke.” you can’t help but tease him a bit more.

“yeah, my ass.” you snort loudly, laughing and the huff he lets out clearly lets you know he’s not amused, you can see him rolling his eyes at your antics.

“we’ll see.” is the answer he graces you with. you squeal, cus you know that means you won. katsuki is quick to remind you he didn’t say yes, but you already know his mind’s been made.

“i’m surprised you didn’t ask me why i have your location on my phone.” you hum.

katsuki sounds utterly confused by your question when he responds “why would i give a shit about that ? s’not like i get somethin’ to hide. don’t care if you know where i’m at.” he responds simply.

“sides, i know how obsessed you are with me, so—”

“i’m hanging up now, katsuki. get me my ramen. toodles.” your bitter tone makes him laugh, and just to piss you off some more he adds in a honeyed sweet “see you later, babe. love ya.” before he hangs up. you huff shaking your head. a text pings and you swipe up to check it, it’s from katsuki again.

“i’m not getting you shit btw.”

he does indeed come back with ramen.

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fastandcarlos · 1 day ago

Text

Post Race Massage : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: after another gruelling race, charles looks to you to help his aching muscles recover

You couldn’t help but laugh as Charles let go of a groan, his hands pressing against his back as the aches of the day caught up with him. He dropped down onto the bed beside you, his sad eyes glancing across at you as he struggled to deal with how much his body hurt.

It had been a long weekend of racing for him, pushing his body to the absolute limit, but when he had a collision with Sergio during the race, his body was finally done in. After jolting in his seat Charles felt his body scream out in pain, a pain that had stuck with him for the rest of the day as you got back to your hotel.

His steps were slow as he moved, his arm clung onto you for a little bit of support, it was unlike anything that you had seen from Charles before. As he laid himself down, it was the most comfortable that Charles had felt for hours, finally able to relax a little.

“Who knew racing was so cruel on the body,” you teased, brushing your hand through Charles’ messy hair. “I thought you’re supposed to train so these things don’t hurt as much.”

Charles frowned across at you, his usual confidence had been replaced by plenty of pity for himself, eyes searching in hope of a little bit more sympathy from you.

You watched Charles for a few moments, thinking through of ways that you could help him. You remembered the things that you saw Charles’ team do in his driver’s room plenty of times before, confident you could do the same thing.

“Why don’t you lay on your tummy?” You suggested, shuffling off of the bed so that Charles could roll over. “I’m sure there’s something that I could do to help you out and ease some of that tension.”

Charles did as you said, with plenty of moans and groans, letting you know just how sore he was. You struggled to hold back your laughter as he did so, as much as you felt sorry for him, seeing him be so dramatic never failed to leave you in disbelief.

Once Charles was comfortable, you pushed the legs of his trousers up so that you could get to his calves, pressing your hands into his muscles and massaging over them. Another moan came from Charles, this time one that was filled with relief and comfort.

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop, that feels incredible,” Charles told you.

You smiled back down as he rested his head against his arms. “If someone were to walk past our hotel room right now, they’d have some serious questions about what we’re doing.”

“With how sore my body is right now, this feels so much better than sex my love.”

A chuckle came from you as you continued to massage the tension and knots out of Charles’ muscles. You moved your hands up his leg, reaching the top of his thigh, pressing in as firmly as you could to try and help him.

“I’ll bare that in mind,” you smirked, tapping against Charles’ bottom.

He continued to sigh in relief, finally able to relax again. “Maybe it’s about time I accept that I’m not exactly a young racing driver anymore.”

“How many times do you have to be told to do your warm ups properly before you listen?”

Charles only had himself to blame for the pain that he was in, assuring you and the rest of his team that warming up was pointless. He was still young, fit, he didn’t need to stretch his muscles out, all he was doing was driving a car, or so he thought.

“Take your top off,” you instructed, hearing a hum of delight come from Charles, only to feel you slap your hand against his back.

Your eyes rolled as he took his top off and threw it on the floor. Your legs straddled around his body, sitting yourself just below Charles’ bottom so that you could get to his back.

As soon as your hands landed at the top of his back, Charles’ smile turned up. Your hands massaged over him once again, digging into all the right places to try and untangle the knots that you could feel building up.

“Good?” You questioned, although you already knew the answer, watching as Charles turned his head around to be able to look back at you with his smile.

His head nodded in response, “I mean my body is still killing me, but you’re working some pretty good magic making it feel better right now.”

“I’m glad I could help you out.”

“I could get used to this.”

“Having your girlfriend sit on your ass whilst she massages your body, I’m sure that you could,” you teased, “you can wipe that smile off of your face as well.”

As much as he wanted to, Charles simply couldn’t, he was enjoying himself far too much. It was nice enough to have you help him, but feeling you sat on top of him was definitely an added bonus that he could get used to as well.

“You know, seeing as you’re getting old we might have to invest in some things to help you when your body is sore,” you told him, “have you seen those massage guns that all the gym people are using these days?”

“Trust me, no massage gun can make me feel as good as your hands,” Charles assured you, pushing back against you as you dug in against his spine, moving your fingertips around in circular motions.

“Try and not sound so smug when you say that,” you challenged.

Charles’ head shook, “I would love to try, but I’m feeling so smug right now, almost like I’m in some sort of dream.”

He didn’t want to make his body suffer, but if this was how you treated him after it, maybe it would be worth it for Charles after all. He had a whole team of experts around him, and yet none of them took care of him as well as you did.

“I think I’m almost done,” you told Charles, only to feel his hands reach back and rest on your hips, refusing to let you leave from where you were sat. “We can’t spend the night with me straddling you like this.”

“What about if I turned over into a different position instead?”

“I thought you were supposed to be tired and achy?” You reminded him, knowing exactly what Charles was hinting at from the suggestive tone of his voice. “You’ve suddenly changed your tune.”

“I was, but then you gave me some godly massage and suddenly I feel like I’ve found a bit of energy again,” Charles smirked, sending you a knowing glance.

You didn’t quite know what to say as Charles raised his eyebrows across at you, tensing his back so you could see his muscle definition, knowing just how much it turned you on.

“If you moan in the morning that your body hurts, I’m going to have no sympathy for you,” you warned, sitting up so that Charles could turn so that he was facing you.

“It’ll be worth it,” Charles promised you, “and anyway, I got another podium today, so we’re supposed to be celebrating that, aren’t we?”

“That’s true, congratulations old man.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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beloveds-embrace · 3 days ago

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DUKEDOM!141 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (/nf please and thank you :])

Original post

Enjoy!! :D

Something all of them like to do is doll you up, and it becomes almost a private little routine between you and them.

John, as your husband (can you tell I love referring to him like this?), steadily takes control of deciding what you wear for the day even long before your request. It’s something that just… happens. He comes into your bedroom early in the mornings, and your maids scatter away to leave you both be with little giggles, excited at the prospect of you two finally getting ‘close’.

John doesn’t care for them. He greets you with a soft good morning (a few weeks later, he’d greet you the same but would gently caress your face with the back of his hand, the touch so gentle despite his roughened skin. It makes you into a blushing mess, though you tell yourself it’s just so that the peeking maids won’t suspect anything) and then goes straight to your closet, sweeping through the rows and rows of delicate, soft dresses with a discerning eye to select what attire you’ll wear for the day.

Of course, he does ask you what you feel like wearing, how you feel today in general, where you plan on going or meeting- everything to ensure the dress he’ll choose for you would be perfect. John doesn’t wait to see you in the dress, though.

He knows he’ll be seeing you all adorned and dressed up later, when you come down to dine with him. He can compliment you and pat himself on the back, then.

If he makes sure to match his cufflinks with the colors you are wearing, it will simply make whoever notice it think you two are such a lovely couple. And he still hopes that your maids will accidentally not tighten or cover up your hemline just so he can fix it himself for you.

John aside, Kyle takes care of your hair and jewelry. He makes you sit on the vanity, still alone and with none of your maids around, and then he begins the tender ritual of brushing your hair (if it’s not too curly for daily brushings). His hands, warm and careful and gentle, would then take care of oiling each strand. No oils or butters have been spared in the efforts of tending to you, and Kyle himself often turns the routine into a simple, but so effective, head massage session for you.

(Later, Kyle wonders what he needs to say and do to take over the job of the maids who help you bathe. You are always complimenting how good his hands feel on your hair, and he can show you how much better he is at using them for your body.)

Johnny eventually begins doing your makeup, on certain occasions. Once the truth comes out, the two of you are closer, and on one night, he tells you about his big family, his sisters and how they’d make him and his brothers help them get ready for events and parties.

It’s a simple question born out of your curiosity- what’s the makeup like where you were born, Johnny?- that has him in your bedroom often now, the other chefs taking care of the kitchen while his hands, clean and gentle, dab creams and whatnot on your face so delicately- like you are one of the cupacakes he decorates for your tea time.

He wants to kiss you so badly. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and expression peaceful, patient and so trustful of his ministrations. He really, really wants to kiss you and see if the lipstick he’d applied on your pretty lips tastes as sweet as it smells.

Simon, though, is the one who slowly begins adding more and more to your dresses. John already supplies you with so much, but Simon is the one largely in charge of the silk and fabric importation and he knows well what styles will be popular next season, what styles will looks better on you and which colors suit you best. It’s not just dresses, but also matching fabrics and ribbons to go in your hair for when Kyle or your maids style, and for your pretty neck during more casual tea parties.

Not occasionally seeing you in the dresses he sends doesn’t bother him; you will be spoiling the others with the sight, and he can listen to them thank him in several ways afterwards and rest with the thought of you all dolled up, happy and thriving with them.

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monstersholygrail · 2 days ago

Text

New City, New Life

5k celebration ‘Choose your own adventure’ story

Orc x fem!reader— cum eating, dry humping, fingering, voyeurism, rough sex, clitoral stimulation

Pt1

“Hey neighbor, I was just talking about you,” your hot Wolf Hybrid neighbor says as you walk over to his little group hanging out in his driveway.

His Orc, Naga, and Wolf friends all flash you a knowing smirk, their varying fangs glimmering sends a heat in your belly before you quickly stop yourself. You had to tone your horny ass self down. You didn’t wanna make a bad impression on a new city of people by being desperate for everyone’s cocks. You didn’t think that would fly here. As they stare your cheeks begin to heat up in a way you know is noticeable.

“Mentioned how I wanted to bring over a cup of coffee I made you,” he adds as if sensing your thoughts and trying to reassure you.

So he wasn’t going around talking about you to all his friends? Something tells you that’s not exactly true as his eyes gleam with arousal. You imagine it as you take the cup of coffee from his hands. Your hot neighbor sitting around with his equally hot friends, going over every little dirty detail. Raving about how good your tight cunt felt around his thick cock. All of them growing hard as he recounted the noises you made and how desperate you were to be filled while imagining it was them with you instead.

A choked whimper escapes you that you quickly try and hide beneath a pleased hum. You try your best to look casual as you subtly rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. But you’re briefly brought back to reality as your hot neighbor hands you the mug of coffee.

“Thank you for this, but—“ you say as you bring the mug to your lips only for your neighbor to brush a clawed finger along the edge of the cup and tilt it up, forcing you to take long gulps of the nicely warm drink. You meet his burning gaze, unable to look away, the tension simmering between you. And in front of all his friends. Fuck you can feel how wet you’re getting.

When he finally removes his finger you lower the cup with only a bit less than half left. Your mouth smacks as the taste bursts across your tongue. It was bitter as you expected coffee to be but also a bit sweet and… salty? It was certainly creamier than you expected it to be. You liked it. Probably more than you liked whatever blend you usually get. You’ll have to ask what his special ingredient is later.

“Thank you again but I was wondering if you guys could give me a ride? I’m in a really tough spot and I just need someone to get me going,” you say, voice strangely huskier than normal.

You clear your throat, glancing away, and look back up to all four of these damn fine men staring down at you as if they’re about to pounce. Your pussy flutters, clamping down around nothing at the thought of them actually doing just that. Their claws digging into your plush form, fangs grazing your sensitive skin, their big tongues ravaging your body to prepare you for their giant cocks.

“Work that is,” you add, voice growing husky all over again.

Your Wolf Hybrid neighbor chuckles darkly, the sound shooting right down to your core. He glances at his friends and a silent conversation passes between them. Then all of them are moving toward the car as if suddenly eager to get in.

“C’mon, sweetheart. We’re headed to work ourselves but we’ll get you off. Who are we to deny someone as cute as you?” He says smoothly, his raspy voice making that sound much more suggestive than you think he meant to.

Your hot neighbor rounds the car, taking the drivers seat. While his Wolf Hybrid friend quickly takes passenger. As if he didn’t want you getting to it first.

“You’ll have to ride in my lap though,” His Orc friend immediately says with a smirk as he hops in the backseat of the car. You follow after him, not wanting anymore seats taken from you.

“And why would I do that?” You ask, not wanting him to know how much you like the idea.

Just as you’re about to sit in the middle seat instead, the Orc’s giant hands are gripping your waist and plopping you down in his lap. Before you can argue or pretend to complain, the Naga gets in last and he curls half his long rattling tail into the middle seat while the rest takes up the remaining one.

“There’sss no more room,” the Naga says, forked tongue slipping out as he speaks and a second later his eyes dilate.

You blush, knowing he can probably taste your arousal in the air. In fact, they all probably can. The realization has you blushing deeper and growing wetter on the hot Orc. Especially as the Orc tugs you closer to his chest and you can feel the distinct bulge of his half-erect cock pressing deliciously along your clothed slit.

Hot neighbor starts on his way and you share your new place of work with them. They’ll know exactly where you are now nearly every day. It sends a strange thrill through you. Wolf Hybrid neighbor tells you that it’s on the way to their place so they’ll drop you off first but that it might take a little longer. They usually like to down the back roads.

You find that you don’t mind as you’re a lot more than just comfortable sitting in the hot Orc’s lap. That is until they actually start driving down the back roads and their… bumpy terrain.

A small grunt escapes you, eyes widening as the car starts rocking. Each jolt of the car has the Orc’s hardening length rubbing right up against your pussy. Your throat tightens as you try and choke down your moans. The Orc feels huge and he’s rubbing over every inch of your cunt. You swear you feel him rocking in sync with the rock. But what would be crazy.

Small talk fills the car and you’re grateful no one seems to be able to notice your inner torment. Small whines leave you as you practically bounce on the Orc’s clothed dick. It sends shocks through your system and you quickly grow more and more needy. The need to be filled and stuffed full itching at your skin.

“I think you’re wet enough f’me now, sweetheart. My patience grows thin. Fuckin’ need to get inside ya,” the Orc says, breaking you out of your lustful daze. It’s only then you register his panting breaths and the way everyone’s eyes shift toward you in the car.

“W-what?”

You yelp as the Orc jerks off your slacks and panties in one swift move and hooks your legs over each of his knees, spreading you wide for the whole car to see. Your glistening folds spasm as they’re exposed to the cold air.

Thoughts run through your head at a mile a minute. You should want to stop this. To scramble off this sexy Orc’s lap. But you only get more turned on, your arousal gushing out of you at the thought of him so suddenly taking you.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been wantin’ to fuck me since your fine ass walked over. That’s how this place works, right?” The Orc asks, almost mockingly.

His words wash over you, clouding your mind, as his hands explore your body. Slightly clawed fingers trail down and dip into your soaked folds. A low moan leaves you and instead of trying to get away you melt back into his chest, hips rolling with the movement of his fingers. He takes the time to prep you for his length and it slowly has you becoming an absolute mess in his lap. And you haven’t even had his cock yet.

You suck in a sharp breath as the hot Orc’s fingers leave you only to replace them with his thick angry tip. His pre-cum creating an even bigger mess of you. Your mind threatens to gain clarity again but then the Orc is pushing you down and splitting you open on his cock.

“Nngh! Ooh… Oh fuck,” you cry out, throwing your head back. The stretch of his girth forcing your gummy walls to accommodate him has your eyes rolling back. The deeper he goes the more you swear you’ve never been filled this good in your life.

The fact that you’re in a car full of men shifts back to the front of your mind and you lift your head to see them all still watching you with a fierce intensity.

Your hot neighbor continues to drive but you notice the way his eyes keep flicking back to you in the mirror. While his Wolf Hybrid and Naga friends each have all their cocks out, languidly stroking them to the sight of you stretched pretty on their friend’s cock. You whimper, basking in the attention, and a second later the Orc starts slamming you down on his massive cock.

“Fuck, dude, you were right. What a perfect pussy. They’re drenched f’me, just slipped right in. So warm and tight. Poor thing won’t get a moments rest in this place,” the Orc huffs and the car erupts into soft breathless laughter.

Aha! You knew your hot neighbor had talked about you with them. The praise is all you focus on and it has your walls squeezing the Orc’s length, wanting to make him go mad. A low growl vibrates from his chest to your back as he feels you get even tighter. His claws sink into your hips as he starts using his grip to fuck his cock up into you at a bruising pace. His thrusts syncing up perfectly with the rocky jostling of the car that only seems to be getting worse.

You cry out as the car’s movements also deepens the Orc’s momentum. You swear you can feel his dick all the way up in your throat. He’s stuffing you so full of him you don’t know if you can take it. You arch back into the Orc, putting on a show for him and everyone in the car. Through hooded eyes you watch as they furiously pump themselves to the sight of your body. It gets you so fucking hot. Their lustful eyes raking over your form. All of them wanting a piece of you, all of them jealous of the one who gets to fuck you.

The Naga flicks out his tail, the rattle on its tip moves in between your legs, wanting to do anything he can to give you more pleasure. You wait with bated breath and shriek as he rattles his tail, the vibration sending sparks throughout your body. The Orc snarls in your ear and picks up pace, jerking up his hips and meeting your thrusts in a way that has your toes curling.

“How do they look?” Your hot neighbor growls, knuckles white on the steering wheel, and sounding borderline feral. His cock aching against his slacks.

“They look so fucking sexy, man. Their tight pussy can barely take him,” His Wolf Hybrid friend moans, his hips twitching as he jerks himself off even harder.

“But they’re doing ssso well. Pretty thing will be ruined for anyone else,” the Naga adds, roughly rattling his tail against your clit. He thrusts up into each of his hands that pump at both of his dicks. You mewl, vision blurring at the intensity that wracks through you.

“Fuck, I think they’re about to cum!” One of them shouts but you’re too lost in the haze of pleasure to focus on which one it is. But then the Orc’s hot breath is curling around your ear and your mind clears enough to hear his rumbling voice.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuckin’ let go and cum on my cock. Squeeze the damn life out of me, you can do it.”

The cord snaps and jaw drops, fierce screams echo throughout the car as you explode all over his cock. Waves of ecstasy wash over you and you try your best not to pass out. The sight of you coming is a vision of pure art and none of the other men can hold on much longer.

The Naga lets go first, shooting his cum over any inch of bare skin he can reach. The Wolf Hybrid is close to follow in his friend’s footsteps as he cums all over you two. Seeing you all wrecked and messy quickly has the Orc slamming into you, burying himself to the hilt and shooting spurt after spurt of his cum deep inside you.

“Such a pretty slut you are, sweetheart. So easily made a mess from our cocks. You’re perfect,” the Orc rasps in your ear and you preen under his praise.

The rest of the car ride is spent with the monsters cleaning you up as you lay limply in the Orc’s lap. You take the time to regain your strength and you hope you’ll be able to feel your legs enough to walk into work.

When you arrive your hot neighbor gets out and greets you as the door opens. He helps you out and you immediately melt into his embrace. Your Wolf Hybrid neighbor laughs, leaning down and kissing the crown of your head.

“Next time, darling. Now get into work,” he murmurs intimately in your ear. Giving your butt a nudging pat.

As you walk in on wobbly legs, you glance around the lobby, looking for the headhunter that recruited you. He was meant to meet you and show you the ropes of the job. But he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you wonder what you’ll do next. You could ask the Demon Guard by the door where you could find him, head down the closest hall and hope you find the headhunter down one of the rooms, or you could head to your Minotaur Boss’ office and hope he can show you around.

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davinawritings · 1 day ago

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Werewolf neighbor that can’t hold himself back from breeding you once he smells you ovulating.

Warnings: Oral (fem receiving), Major Breeding Kink, Slight Overstimulation, Knotting

Pairing: Male Werewolf x Female Reader ( Reader could be read as human or monster or hybrid)

You had moved into his apartment complex a few weeks ago, and he had tried to keep his distance.

He had only really seen you on that first day when you were guiding the movers to your apartment, which happened to be on the same floor as his. You had given him a shy smile, and he quickly responded with a tense nod before entering his apartment and slamming the door shut, already feeling his cock hardening.

Unfortunately, he could pick up on your smell whenever you were in the hallway due to his heightened senses. It never failed to send his blood rushing to his cock, but he always managed to keep himself locked away in his apartment, rutting into his own hand.

As he hears your door unlock tonight, he waits for the inevitable moment when your delicious scent will hit his senses. Like every other day, it does, but it is much sweeter this time. His cock is almost instantly hard, and a low growl is involuntarily released from his chest.

All of his instincts are screaming at him to breed your fertile pussy, and he groans at the realization that you smell so sweet because you are ovulating. His legs move faster than his brain, and before he knows it, he is in the hallway and pacing towards the elevator where you are calmly waiting.

He grabs you and pulls you over his shoulder, causing you to gasp. “ What are you doing?” you ask. He doesn’t answer and carries you back to his apartment and bedroom. He lays you down on his bed, and you stare at him wide-eyed. He watches as your eyes trail over his tall body stopping on his throbbing cock, hidden only slightly by some gray sweatpants.

He smirks as you lick your lips. He quickly strips you of all your clothes, pulling your legs apart to settle his face between them. You let out a low whine as his breath hits your wet center. “ I’m going to get this pussy nice and ready for my cock, and then I am going to spend hours breeding this beautiful body. Got it? I’m not stopping until I’m sure you are carrying my pups”, he says, his voice rough with lust.

You moan out a simple “please”, your body on fire with need. He licks a stripe up your slit and moans, giving you a grin before burying his head in your pussy and eating you like a god. Every lick has you clawing at the sheets and moaning in pleasure.

He moves to fucking his tongue inside your already dripping cunt, and you cry out at the feeling. His snout rubs your clit as he shakes his head back and forth, and you scream as you cum on his tongue, back arching off the bed.

He crawls up your body and doesn’t wait for your orgasm to end before starting to push his thick cock into your still convulsing cunt. Tears come to your eyes at the stretch and overstimulation, but you just pull him closer, needing to feel him fill you completely.

“Fuck. Your pussy feels so good. So fucking tight around my cock. You can take it. Just a little more”, he tells you. You look down, already feeling so full, and see that there really is still more. You whine, gripping the sheets and bracing yourself for the last few inches of his impossibly large cock, wanting to take all of him.

His clawed hand wraps around your hip, and he gives one last hard shove, pushing the final few inches inside of you. “Such a good girl. Taking all my cock. Fucking perfect”, he says, and your cunt clenches at his praise.

He slowly withdraws his cock, relishing in your soft mewls, before thrusting back in and starting a brutal pace. He nips along your neck and chest as your hands claw at his shoulders and back. He never relents in his thrusts, loving the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock.

You cry out for him, your own release washing over you multiple times, but his instincts won’t allow him to stop until he has filled your womb with his seed.

He flips you over onto your stomach and enters you from behind, fucking you into the mattress. You moan at the new angle, his tip bullying your g-spot and your clit being repeatedly shoved into his silk sheets.

“I tried to leave you alone, pretty girl. I could fucking smell your sweet cunt each time you left your apartment and every fucking time I had to rut into my own fucking fist”, he says, each word followed by a harsh thrust.

“I tried, baby. I rea- fuck. I really fucking tried, but when you walked out today, I could smell this perfect fucking pussy ovulating. Your body practically screamed that it needed me to breed it. I just couldn’t hold myself back”, he growls out, and you feel his cock start growing at the base.

His knot starts catching on each thrust, expanding quickly with his fast-approaching orgasm. He switches to grinding, his knot no longer allowing him to thrust in and out of you. His cock rubs against your g-spot relentlessly as his hips grind your lower half into the bed harshly, your clit being dragged against the silk sheets over and over.

You scream in ecstasy as you cum once again, cunt clenching around his knot as you milk his cock for his seed. He growls loudly, claws digging into the mattress as his cum begins to fill your pulsing cunt, his knot keeping all of his cum locked inside of you. His short thrusts don’t stop as rope after rope of cum continues to fill you, the pressure and fullness making you whine.

After a few minutes, he finally stops and rolls you to your sides, keeping you pressed firmly to his chest and firmly locked on his knot. He releases a small chuckle when you give a small yawn and snuggle further into his chest. “Go ahead and rest, baby. You have a long night ahead of you once my knot goes down.”

🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤

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