#the sun is hitting my face and it feels so good

[nobodyknowsimalesbian777]

Can't Wait - Abby (Tlou 2)

NSFW tags- masturbation, sub!abby, dom!reader, lowkey humiliation (a!receiving), mention of strap usage, pet names (baby, slut, princess)

authors note: sorry this took a little longer gang, plsplspls leave requests, this was my 2nd and i loveeeeeeed doing it

----------------------------------------------------------

abby was an incredibly strong woman, anybody could see that

years of training transformed her body into what most people would consider a machine,

perfectly tuned and built for the apocalypse.

her physique garnered lots of attention, from men and women alike, much to her disapproval

she knew people saw what her body was capable of, she heard the way people spoke about her

"she's so strong, but" and "can you imagine trying to sleep with a woman like that?" followed by laughs was something she often overheard

abby would pretend it didn't bother her, saying she didn't need anyone to like her body,

but you never missed the way her hands roamed her chest and arms when she was talking about it,

her fingertips pressing harshly, like they were trying to erase the parts people saw as too masculine

truly, you loved her body. you could spend hours tracing her meticulously sculpted muscles, feeling the way they connected

you loved the curve of her waist, and her ass. you loved her shoulders, especially when her blonde hair cascaded down her back like a sun-kissed waterfall

every part of her was designed so beautifully, like a physical manifeston of her determination

and you knew she was more then capable of throwing people around, regardless of their height or size

which is why watching her jerk her hips up into her hand, searching for friction on her neglected cunt was that much better

she was used to being the protector, always worrying about others safety, and pleasure

nobody would ever suspect her to be submissive, in any capacity, ever.

but then again, nobody was lucky enough to see her the way you did

you stood in the doorframe, arms crossed as you watched abbys naked body squirm under her own touch

her big hands covered her whole pussy, even as her middle finger slid in and out of her slick hole,

loud moans echoed in the room as her fingers hit that delicious spot behind her clit,

her back arched off the bed, pushing her fingers that much deeper

abby knew she was supposed to wait until you got back from your patrol,

you told her you had a surprise waiting, one that you wanted her especially needy for,

but abby, your poor girl, couldn't help herself.

she was cleaning your shared home, picking up laundry as she went, when she found your favorite pair of panties

just the image of you wearing them was enough to get her incredibly worked up,

she really did try so hard to distract herself, not wanting to disappoint you,

but she just couldn't help it, she needed to cum, and she couldn't make herself wait until you got home.

you let out a disappointed sigh, alerting the tall blonde that you had seen her.

abbys blue eyes met yours, her fucked-out face telling you that she was already so close

she couldn't seem to urge herself to stop, her movements becoming more needy as you stared her down

"i specifically remember telling you to wait" you mused, stepping into the room and standing at the edge of the bed

"i- i know" abbys whines were incredibly hard to resist "m sorry, baby. feels too...so good"

you traced one hand up her bare thigh, while the other reached up to push her hair out of her face

she looked at you doe-eyed, her brows furowing as she shamelessly held eye contact while getting herself off

your fingers traced around her stuffed pussy, reaching her wrist and pulling it up to your mouth

abby whimpered as you set her fingers in your mouth,

cleaning the slick off of them while you intertwined your fingers in her hair, making her watch the lewd act

her fingers left your mouth with a pop, abbys blue eyes locking onto your slick-covered lips

they followed you as you reached under your shared bed, pulling out a box

abby tilted her head, watching as you slowly opened her gift

her eyes fell on the black harness you pulled out, her eyes narrowing as she tried to figure out what you were planning

suddenly, her eyes shot open. she had realized when you pulled out a long, clear dildo from the box

abby felt her pussy pulse in anticipation, her legs closing instinctively

"think you're ready for your surprise now?" you asked sweetly, dangling the harness to the side

abbys tounge darted out to wet her quivering lips, her eyes looking back and forth from you and the toy you held

"it's so big..." she trailed off, the feeling between her legs growing with every word you spoke

you hummed, feigning sweetness "should've thought about that before you decided to be a slut, huh princes?"

----------------------------------------------------------

need to dominate a buff woman, also should i write smth for ellie??? do reply with your consensus

[butlervibesonly]

𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 | Austin Butler

• Summary : Y/n's having the time of the month, definitely not feeling good. But that is something Austin couldn't help with.

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : mentions of period, period pain, ...

It is that time of month again. You wake up to a sharp pain in your lower belly, or so called cramps. Oh, how you hate those. You groan quietly, trying not to to wake Austin up. You reach for the phone on the nightstand with your hand, looking out the window next to Austin's part of the bed. The sun has barely risen yet.

5:13 am. That is way too early. As soon as you put the phone back on the table, your lower stomach cramps again – and that is a sign for you to get up and get some painkillers. You carefully pull off yourself the comforter that you and Austin share and carefully slide out of bed.

When you arrive to the kitchen, you search for the painkillers, and as soon as you find them you pour yourself a glass of water, swallowing the pill. You're probably already awake enough, but it's still very early in the morning, so you go back to the bedroom.

Austin lies peacefully on his back, only in pajama pants so his bare chest shines in the morning breeze. His lips are little parted as he lets out quiet and slow snores. You lay back in bed with a smile. It will take some time for the pill to help and the cramps will continue, hopefully not too long.

Well, you wish for not too long. Another wave of cramps hits you and at this time you whimper more loudly than you would like to. Curling on the bed, you pull your legs to your stomach, shutting your eyes.

That obviously wakes Austin up. He blinks few times, trying to get out of sleep into reality. When he turns his head, he sees you curled up on the bed. "Darlin', what's wrong?" he asks, his voice groggy still so soft. You look at him, whimpering again.

"Um, it's the time, again..." you explain, curling back to your position. Austin hums in understanding. What he actually does is pulling you closer to him. "Did you took a painkiller?" Austin asks, his hand rubbing your back.

"Mhm, few minutes ago," you mumble. "It's going to take forever before it starts any effect!" you complain and Austin chuckles quietly. He turns so he lies on his side, facing you. "Let me help before it starts working."

He runs his hand through the covers as he reaches your stomach. Lifting up your shirt a little he actually spreads his hand on your belly, rubbing on gently circles. You start to feel the warm his hand provides and it feels so better.

"Is it better?" Austin asks, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Yea... Thank you..." He smiles in the kiss, finding you so adorable. "I felt like there was a demon fighting inside of me," you say, jokingly. "My poor girl," Austin runs his finger through your hair.

You both eventually fall asleep again, in each others arms, his hand still placed on your belly.

~ Later that morning ~

When you wake up again, this time it's the sun shining in your eyes. Looking at the bed, Austin is no longer here. He actually notices you're awake so he sits beside you. You can see he's fully clothed, a smile on his face.

"Morning, baby." he pats your leg. You smile, happy to see him. Your stomach no longer hurts but you feel more tired. "What time is it?" you ask, stretching yourself. "Around 9 am. I went shopping and got you some tea that should help with the pain, your favorite chocolate and also…” he pulls something out from behind his back.

"Some flowers." you look at the bouquet of little roses. "Awh! You shouldn't have, Aus!" your heart melts. Austin always knows how to make you happy when you're feeling horrible, and it's no different now.

"Why shouldn't I? I'd do anything for my girl." he plants a kiss on your lips. "Are you feeling better?" Austin asks, placing the flowers on your nightstand. "Definitely better than earlier." you say, sitting up. He pulls you in his arms, kissing you once more again.

"You'll be relaxing today, okay?" he says dominantly, making you smile. "Aight', doctor Butler."

"No, I mean it. You deserve a rest, understand?" You nod. You two spend the morning with breakfast in bed, watching some shows as Austin takes care of you.

[kayschariot]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

-

⛔️warning: I am not at all an astrologer, this is shit i’ve noticed. you might relate you might not

-

Libra sun(maybe even other libra placements) can be really good at manipulating. but they’re also really fun!!

air signs in general are so fucking smart.

Some scorpio people over share, specifically sun i think. Like people like to say it’s the most private sign but these mother fuckers will trauma dump on you. Maybe not scorpio moon, but definitely scorpio suns will just air out there trauma (esp with air placements..holy..)

Aries men love arguing with people, they fucking love pushing peoples buttons. not to mention they’re usually good at it.

I also notice Aries in general tend to have a rbf or a no emotion face

sun in the 12th house are most likely to get put in jail or some type of hospital, i know two people with this placement who where in jail.

ima say it, pisces are way more two faces then Gemini. that doesn’t always have to be a bad thing. Pisces just match everyone I guess.

TIP: please check the degrees in your chart and study them it makes so much more sense when you do.

As a person with Pluto in my 11th house, I am so private with my life especially with my friends. I also trust nobody in my friend group, even if i’ve known them for years.

Aries placements can also be shy and introverted as hell.

not an observation more of a question, scorpio moon people, does you mother tend to push you to do shit? even as a kid? over work you maybe? was she obsessed with you did it seem. like over do it?

chiron in 7th house…so…how are the 11 situationshipss…this depends on the placements tbh, but ik a couple with this placement that have so many relationships or situationships and have trouble finding ‘true love’

Saturn in 9th house, your father could’ve 1. been gone 2. been hella religious. there’s way more to this placement not just that lmao.

Why are air sign prominent men so fruity?

Aries and pisces are so hit or miss

For some reason i genuinely think a man with ARIES, TAURUS, LIBRA/LEO his chart would actually be the most lazy narcissist ever. Depends on the placements but i do feel that could be really bad. my reasoning for this is Aries is such a hit or miss sign and as i said love to push people’s buttons. So when you add taurus which is known for being kinda lazy along with libra/leo(signs that can tend to be SELF centered) i think it would throw me off.

yeah being famous with a scorpio in the 11th house is cool until it’s not. your fandom will be fucking disgusting. obviously everything has a good and bad side but they will be obsessed with you and sometimes not in a good way. Unhealthy, like your your fans guilty pleasure bullshit.

if you have sun in the 9th your probably religious.

-

This was just for fun, i have some of these myself and i mean no harm. Lmk if you agree.

[jeridandridge]

I Want Something Bad

This wound needs more salt! College Years installment from anon request 🤍

This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. The alarm clock on your nightstand ticks away, the moonlight coming through the floor to ceiling window of your bedroom makes you sigh. Melissa was flying in tomorrow afternoon and for some reason you felt sick. Maybe because the last time you saw her it felt like a goodbye. Maybe because six months ago she was married and you were out of the country, unable to face those fears and desires you had regarding the woman.

Tossing and turning you shift to face your nightstand, hand resting on your pillow as you eye the silver picture frame that sits on the dark wood. Melissa had clung to you during graduation that day. Sat together in the chairs your heart jumped into your throat when her fingers laced with yours, eyes forward on the stage of the auditorium. Outside in the sun she wrapped her arms around your waist squeezing you so tightly you were sure you’d be bruised. Six hours later you were driving away in the dark headed back to your childhood home, tears in your eyes and your hands shaking on the wheel at the thought of her going off and marrying someone else. You still wanted her even now.

Morning comes sooner than you’d like it to. The warmth from the morning sun through the window warms you, hoping it was a good omen for the rest of the day. After a shower and a cup of coffee, you feel almost normal again as you get in the car for the Portland airport. During the drive your mind wanders, would Melissa be different now? You hadn’t seen her in almost a year, she was married and set to start teaching with a full life in Philly.

Getting closer to the pick up terminal you can’t help but smile when you see the redhead walking towards the car, sun glasses on and a Philly sweatshirt as always. Pulling into the line you put the car in park, hardly able to get out before Melissa is in front of you wrapping her arms around your neck. The smell of lavender hits your nose and her ring clad fingers bury themselves in your hair.

“Well hi,” you chuckle almost nervously, hands resting on her back.

“Hi yourself, big shot.” The redhead chuckles squeezing you tightly.

Letting go of your best friend you smile when she lifts her sunglasses, finally able to see those gorgeous eyes.

“I’m an intern not a big shot.” You chuckle putting her suitcase in the trunk closing it with a thud. “You ready to see what Portland has to offer?” You grin.

“Let’s get goin, hon.”

Settled in the car Melissa smiles at you, her hand reaching for yours where it rests on the center console. Eyes flicking down from the road you move your hand to reach for the radio,turning it up a bit to drown out the thought of that gold band and the man you despise. You felt as if it would burn if it touched your skin. “I’m happy you’re here finally. You ready to start work next month?”

Eyes on the road you miss the hurt in her eyes as she brings her hand back to her own lap. “I am, Kristin Marie even gave me a mug for my desk.” She chuckles.

“Aw, the wicked witch has a heart.” You tease. The thought of you being on opposite coasts hurt, but now you could throw yourself into your work opting to climb the social ladder at your current art gallery. Even if it was an internship you planned on running elbows with as many higher ups as you could.

The first afternoon and evening with Melissa goes well enough, you take her to your favorite coffee shop and bookstore knowing she’d enjoy the cozy atmosphere. Throughout the day you couldn’t help but dodge every touch she attempted to make on your arm or lower back, so much so that you almost dropped your coffee when her fingers brushed your elbow to rest her hand in the crook of your arm on the walk back to the car. You wanted her, you wanted her bad and you knew you could never have her.

You’ll just have to sit in it for this week.

“Hon, you better let me cook for you while I’m here.” Melissa breaks the comfortable silence as you two stand in the elevator going up to your apartment.

“I can’t turn down a Schemmenti meal.” You chuckle unlocking the door. “I stocked up on groceries last night.”

Inside Melissa goes through the fridge and cabinets pulling out everything she might need for a nice meal. It felt… nice, normal even after so much time spent having awkward phone calls two time zones apart to be moving around the kitchen together. As you wash the vegetables while the redhead prepares sauce, you glance up with a smile.

“So, have you managed to teach Joe how to cook anything yet?”

Melissa scoffs shaking her head. “No, he’s either at work or he comes home and sleeps.”

Turning back to the task at hand you hide your eye roll looking down at the cutting board. Typical. This was the man that threw a fit when he lost at beer pong for crying out loud. Of course he wouldn’t help his wife cook.

Melissa continues to stir, eyes landing on your back boring into your soul.

“I’m surprised you brought him up.”

Glancing over your shoulder you meet jade eyes. Composing yourself you shrug. “He’s your husband, I do know the guy.” You chuckle.

It’s quiet for a moment, the sound of the blade landing on the cutting board with each chop makes your palms start to sweat.

“You don’t like him.” Melissa states plainly, no malice in her voice as she keeps her eyes on the stove.

Biting your cheek you take a breath before lifting your head. “Hey,” you get her attention meeting her eyes with the best smile you can muster. “I’m happy for you, Red. I really am.”

It made you want to vomit saying those words but if it made her happy that’s all you care about. Jade eyes crinkle at the corner just as they always did, and that was the end of that.

Through dinner and the rest of the night you find yourself relaxed with your oldest friend. The tension that had been there is gone, even enough for Melissa to curl up into your side on the couch. Her right hand rests on your Jean clad thigh as you mindlessly watch a sitcom on tv, making comments here and there about the show. You wanted this all the time. You wanted to come home and make dinner with Melissa sod badly. To cuddle up with her on the couch after a long day so badly.

You’re brought out of your love drunken haze when the phone rings on the table behind the couch.

“You gone get that, hon?”

“No, let it ring.” You hum not caring enough to answer the phone at ten o’clock on a Friday night.

The machine clicks, and a smooth female voice comes out. “Hi, sweetheart! I guess I missed you. I was calling to see if we’re still on for drinks Tuesday night. Give me a call soon, bye!”

As soon as you hear Lena’s voice coming through the speaker you feel Melissa stiffen against your side.

“Well she sounds like fun.” Melissa chuckles with a tight smile.

Keeping your eyes on the tv you shrug. “She’s a curator for the gallery, I’ve been seeing her for a couple weeks.”

“You didn’t tell me?” Melissa pulls back looking at you. “Cmon, hon. What she like?” She asks with a quirked brow.

You’d seen this look before many times all throughout college, she puts a smirk on but the excitement doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Well…” you start off in another cycle you’re sure will continue for as long as you know the redhead.

[skeedelvee]

Carry On Countdown Day 4 - Daydreaming

For this year's COC I've decided to put together daily fic rec lists! Let me know if you find any new favorite reads from these <3

For todays prompt I've gone with fics that involve dreaming

A Dream is a Wish by @dragoneggos

Rated T, 17,239 words

This one is really sweet! Dream friends to dream lovers to real life lovers ❤️

"I began to cherish the time we had, the few hours in a day where I could pretend I didn’t hate him, where it wasn’t Agatha’s hand I was holding, but his. Where I could watch him unabashedly, and whisper nonsense to him until the sky opened to the sun. I dreaded the coming of day. In the darkness, we could pretend." Simon Snow doesn't know who the boy who's been haunting his dreams is. But Baz Pitch knows. Baz knows that it's been Simon the whole time. Simon he's been sharing dreams with, sharing everything with since they were eight years old. But how do you tell your arch nemesis that it was you who held them while they cried? It's even harder to tell them, when you've been kidnapped by numpties.

I'd Gladly Eat You for Breakfast by @whogaveyoupermission

Rated M, 6,981 words

Always love a good sex dream fic and this one’s great

When Simon has a sex dream, Baz asks for a demonstration.

Gates of Ivory and Horn by @aristocratic-otter

Rated E, 16,094 words

This one’s dream-ish, but I think it counts! Simon is shown two visions of the future and has to pick which ones real. SO GOOD!

Simon Snow falls to a Humdrum attack and is locked in a deadly dream. To survive, he has to choose the dream that is true. But Simon's not historically been good at recognising lies...

Cumdrop Buttons by @martsonmars

Rated E, 4,427 words

Simon has always been food motivated, so this fic is so him. And great for the holiday season! 🎄

“So good,” he whispers, lips wet and shining with saliva and precome. “You taste so good. I want to swallow you whole.” I shouldn’t find this as erotic as I do, but this is Simon, and of course eating people turns out to be a huge turn on for him. (I should add cannibalism to the list of his love languages, right next to homicide.) When Simon wakes up from a biscuit-themed wet dream, Baz has no other choice but to indulge him and roleplay his own "demise by mastication".

A Restless Mind by Theweatherbee

Rated E, 21,360 words

Dreaming and daydreaming in this one! Truly excellent! Pining Simon is the best

He was staring at Baz's legs, at his footwork, at his legs again, at his arms, and his legs just a little bit more, and then his face—he was staring at Baz like he’d never seen him before, which was ridiculous, because he’d spent most of his academic career staring at him. And then Coach Mac blew the whistle and Baz jogged to a stop, breathing heavily, and he pulled up his jersey to wipe the sweat off his face, and Simon's insides were performing some complicated acrobatics as he stared helplessly at Baz's stomach. A thought came to Simon, unasked for, something that hit both like a realization and like something he had always known. Baz was proper fucking fit. Baz was unreasonably fit. Baz was...Baz was looking right at him. In which Simon has a dream that has him looking differently at Baz. Baz notices.

✨Gratuitous self rec✨

Buttered Up by me! @skeedelvee

Rated E, 799 words

Baz and butter? It’s Simon’s perfect dream! 😂

Simon has a dream, it involves a gratuitous amount of butter and a tiny Baz Pitch.

If you have any recs that fit the prompt that I've missed, feel free to leave them in the comments! There's plenty of gaps in my reading so there's a good chance I may not have read it.

Also I've had a hard time finding if some people are here on Tumblr, so if you know someone who hasn't been tagged, feel free to leave that in the comments as well <3

@carryon-countdown

[outer-space-face]

GUYS !!! I'm at a really beautiful foresty park!!!

Everybody say "Hi really beautiful foresty park!!!" :DDD

[mymelodyisme]

My sister’s graduation day 😤 let’s go 👏🏽

[celestial-toys]

been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying

[cuteniarose]

It’s almost 6 a.m and I can’t sleep because I’m being plagued by thoughts of The Latest OC

[transkingcobra]

Hm

[goatmilksoda]

Mental health issues are SOOO funny.

Me: Well, I'm not actively trying to kill myself and I'm not in the hospital so it's probably all just in my head and I'm just making it up for attention. I think if I was faced with a real crisis this wouldn't matter.

Anyone I'm speaking to (Concerned): Can you get some medication? Can you quit your job ASAP?

[rafecameronssl4t]

Golf day || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: INSPIRED BY THIS TIKTOK

Warnings: pure fluff hehehehe

Word count: 497

A/n: if anyone has any tiktoks that they want me to turn into a Rafe fic, send them thru pls!!!! I love finding random vids on my fyp that are so Rafe coded. ALSO BEGGING FOR MORE DAD!RAFE REQUESTSS

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Do you think she’ll enjoy it?” Rafe questions, turning his head to you, his eyes lingering on Mabel, comfortably nestled on your lap. He looks genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed with worry.

“You know she loves watching you do anything,” you reply with a reassuring chuckle, trying to soothe his anxiety. As you adjust the tiny hat on your daughter’s head, you can’t help but smile at her innocent excitement.

It was Mabel’s first time at the golf course, and Rafe had been on edge all morning. He’d peppered you with questions like, “Don’t you think it will be too hot?” and “What if she gets bored?” His nervousness was palpable, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.

You had spent the morning reassuring him, reminding him repeatedly that Mabel would be perfectly fine. You knew she would be thrilled just to watch her dad play golf, her eyes following his every move with awe and admiration.

“Do you think she’ll like this spot?” Rafe asks as the golf cart comes to a gentle stop under the shade of a large oak tree. “Babe, you’re the one playing,” you giggle, enjoying his overprotectiveness. Rafe laughs softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Mabel, do you like it here?” he asks, his voice tender as he tickles her chin. Mabel responds with a delightful giggle that melts your heart.

You adjust Mabel on your lap so she’s facing Rafe, her wide, curious eyes tracking his every move as he unloads his golf clubs. The sun casts a warm glow over the course, and you can’t help but admire how handsome Rafe looks in his golf gear. “Doesn’t Daddy look so handsome, Bels?” you murmur to Mabel, pressing light kisses on her rosy cheeks. She giggles uncontrollably and tickling sensation.

Rafe turns at the sound of her infectious giggles, a broad smile lighting up his face. “You girls doing alright?” he calls out, his eyes sparkling with joy. You chuckle, giving him a thumbs-up and lifting Mabel’s tiny hand to wave at him.

Remembering that Rose wanted a video of Mabel’s first time at the golf course, you quickly pull out your phone and aim the camera at Mabel’s expressive face. She’s watching Rafe intently, her anticipation palpable.

As Rafe lines up his shot, you can see the concentration etched on his face. The moment the club makes contact with the golf ball, sending it soaring through the air, Mabel flinches in surprise. You can’t help but laugh, immediately clamping your hand over your mouth, feeling a bit guilty for laughing at her reaction.

Rafe shields his eyes with his hand, squinting into the distance to see where the ball landed. Satisfied with his shot, he turns back and walks towards you and Mabel, a broad smile lighting up his face. “Daddy’s pretty good, isn’t he?” Rafe chuckles as he reaches you, gently lifting Mabel from under her armpits and pressing a loving kiss on her round cheek.

You quickly snap a photo of the sweet moment. Their joy is infectious, and you can’t help but chuckle as you send the video and picture to Rose. Mabel’s earlier reaction to the sound of Rafe hitting the ball plays in your mind, making you smile.

Rafe notices your amusement. “What’s so funny?” he asks, his curiosity piqued as he sees you smiling at your phone. You glance up, grinning, and show him the video of Mabel’s startled reaction to his golf swing.

“Aww, I’m sorry, babygirl,” Rafe says with a laugh, his eyes softening as he watches the video. “I’ll let you know when I’m going to hit the ball next time.” Mabel, already captivated by her dad’s presence, giggles and reaches out to touch his face, her earlier surprise forgotten.

Rafe’s heart melts as he cradles Mabel in his arms, swaying gently. “You’re my good luck charm, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice filled with love. Mabel coos in response, her tiny hands grasping at Rafe’s shirt.

[i-love-ptv]

Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Goin’ On ˚̣̣ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣

Pairing: Husband!Rafe Cameron x Soccer-mom!Wife!Reader

It’s not easy being a soccer-mom, especially when dads hit on you at every game as if you’re not married to Rafe.

Wc: 1,596

Fluff, Protective Rafe making an appearance, kinda pushy guy (idk what to say)

An: I’ve really wanted to write a fic based on this song, and this idea randomly popped into my head so! Am I using the names I wanna name my kids? Yes, yes I am.

Not proofread tbh

Feedback always appreciated lovelies!! xx

“I’ll be back, ‘mkay doll?”

You hum in acknowledgement, eyes peering back at the field after looking up.

Your husband, Rafe leant down and places a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Yeahhh, Daddy’s gonna be back, baby.” Rafe coos at your two year old, who was sitting on your lap, babbling freely while peering at him with her big doe eyes.

Rafe walks off the bleachers; in search of the concession stand to buy food for the three of you.

You brush your hand over your young daughter’s head, making sure her somewhat oversized hat is still covering her head entirely. Her hand wraps around your index finger.

It was oddly humid today, if you continued moving, you’d break a slight sweat. You can't even imagine what your daughter -Stacy must be feeling, running around on the large grassy field under the beaming bright sun.

You were proud of your baby girl though, nonetheless. And so was Rafe, of course.

You shout loudly when you notice the game is about to start, bellowing out a “Go Stacy!”

Stacy’s eyes easily found yours, for you and Rafe would always sit in the same spot on the bleachers.

Her eyes were slightly wide due to your shout, despite you and Rafe always cheering for her during her games.

She’s motioning for you to ‘shh’, putting her fingers to her lips before getting into her position.

“Which one’s yours?” You hear to the left of you, the unknown voice makes you tear your eyes away from the field.

You smile shortly at the unfamiliar man next to you, “Number 22.”

You can’t help but notice how he’s rather scruffy looking, an odd contrast to your upkept husband with his neatly buzzed hair.

“Mine’s number 13.” He says, flashing his teeth at you.

You gasp and shoot up a little, making you look down at your daughter on your lap. “Valerie’s yours? Oh she’s just the sweetest!”

The man chuckles, looking deeply in your eyes. This makes your eyebrows raise, slightly in confusion, but mostly in discomfort.

He hadn’t done anything out of the norm, you’d randomly talk to the other moms around too, but something about him made you uncomfortable.

“My name's Brandon, and yours?”

You introduce yourself briefly, before turning back towards the game.

His eyes dart to your left hand, looking for a ring, for any indication that you belong to someone else. He smiles sharply when he finds your fingers bare. This goes unnoticed by you.

Little does he know, you do have your ring on, just around your neck.

Your biggest fear was your youngest accidentally pulling off your ring, resulting in you losing it. Or, even worse: it pokes her eye or something of that nature.

You suppose you could be considered a ‘Helicopter-mom’ at times, simply going to the extremes to make sure your kids are happy and healthy at every point in time.

Rafe is the exact same way, maybe even a little worse. But you knew he was just protective, he loves this life that he has with you, since he had no idea the two of you would’ve been together for so long.

You had started dating Rafe when you were 18 and he was 19. It was good for the first few months, disregarding the few arguments that you had. But then, you had caught Rafe doing cocaine.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to shake the look on his face from your memory.

You weren’t supposed to be at the party, you said you were busy filling out college applications.

So when he was mid-line, and he saw you standing there all dolled up, watching him with glossy eyes, he felt his heart shatter into pieces.

You weren’t supposed to find out, he wanted to keep this away from you, to keep you close to him.

He promised that he would try and stay sober for you, but eventually he’d give in every time the opportunity was in front of him. This resulted in several arguments, and surprisingly, a break up.

But things are different now. You both are in your 30’s, you got married, and of course, had two beautiful babies together.

Rafe knew he’d be crazy to fuck things up now, when he has the perfect life right in front of him.

Speaking of which; you’re really starting to wonder what the hell is taking him so long just to get some goddamn hotdogs and drinks.

You’re bouncing your knee anxiously, which makes your daughter giggle. You wish she wasn’t finding this amusing, but you know she can’t help it.

“Well who’s this cute girl, huh?” The man coos, tickling your daughter’s side.

“Her name is Noelle.” You huff, your mood quickly shifting due to this stranger touching your daughter.

He lets out another chuckle, you wish you never had to hear it again. “Sounds like you’re quoting Teenage Dirtbag to me.”

You give him a pointed look, you’re really getting sick of his pestering. “That’s where I got it from.”

Abruptly, the crowd starts cheering madly. You look around and see Stacy's team celebrating briefly; they had just scored a goal.

You cheer and clap, grabbing Noelle’s chubby hands and making her raise her arms wildly while giggling with her.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could-” Before Brandon could finish his sentence, none other than Rafe Cameron comes stomping up the bleachers, huffing and puffing angrily.

He sits down and sighs, “God, I’m sorry babe. The line was so long! I swear I’m going grey right now.”

“And I missed the goddamn play!” Rafe exclaims. He looks over at you and immediately goes quiet once he sees those wide baby eyes that look at him curiously.

“Da?” Noelle mutters, reaching her tiny hands towards Rafe’s larger ones.

“Yeah. Da’s here babygirl, do you want your food? Huh sweet girl?”

Rafe hands you your food, setting his food aside so he can put Noelle in his lap. He begins to split half his hotdog in pieces for her.

You glance to the left, you notice Brandon looking like a fish out of water.

Rafe is the CEO of one of, if not the biggest business company around. And Brandon had just borderline harassed his wife, who was holding his child.

Brandon sneers at the two of you in silence while the game continues, nearly boiling at the fact that he couldn’t have you.

Your head is laying on Rafe’s shoulders, you’re rubbing circles on Noelle’s shoulder as she settles down.

“Everything alright babe?” Rafe asks, trying to peer down at your face.

You untuck your necklace with your wedding ring from your shirt, fiddling with it. “Yeah, now that you’re here Ray.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a few seconds.

“…What does that mean?”

You hesitate to answer, but you do regardless, “Nothing! It’s just uh..That guy next to me, was kinda like hassling me I guess.”

This makes Rafe straighten his back.

“He do somethin’ to you doll?” Rafe questions in a whisper. You know you have about 30 seconds to try and calm him down before he’s banned from every soccer game left in the season.

“No, okay? I’m fine, it’s cool. I need you to calm down Ray.”

Rafe’s nose is flaring, “What about Ellie? Did he touch her?”

You feel your throat closing up, your heart is damn near pounding out of your chest.

You don’t say anything to Rafe, but that look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know.

You grab his bicep, trying to keep him grounded. Even though he’s changed, some parts of him haven’t.

Rafe speaks lowly in your ear, but not too much to frighten you in any way. “I’ll take care of it, okay? Don’t worry y’pretty little head about it.”

Rafe presses a firm kiss against your cheek, then presses a softer one to your lips.

After 30 more minutes, and 2 more goals, Stacy’s team wins.

You and Rafe cheer loudly, letting out “That’s our baby girl!”

You meet Stacy at the bottom of the bleachers, holding Noelle in your hand as the littlest claps her hands between Stacy’s face.

You’re too busy congratulating your daughter to notice Rafe pulling Brandon aside while his daughter, Valerie is off talking to her friends.

Rafe puts a firm hand on his shoulder, “Hey man.”

Brandon lets out a nervous laugh, “Hey there, Rafe Cameron, right?”

“Yeah, let’s keep this short. I better not see or hear you talking to my wife again, do you hear me? I don’t give a shit what happened.”

Rafe continues shortly, “And keep your fucking hands to yourself, if I find out you touched my either of my daughters again, I swear to God himself I’ll put you under.”

The two men are holding eye contact, one looks with confidence and borderline rage, while the other looks with fear.

Rafe walks down the bleachers, meeting you and your girls.

“You were amazing out there sweetheart!” Rafe smiles while pulling Stacy into a bear hug.

“Jesus dad, you’re crushing me!” Stacy laughs with a slight wheeze.

Rafe ruffles her hair and puts his arm around your neck.

“All good to go?”

You nod your head, and with that, the four of you begin to walk to Rafe’s parked car.

Rafe realizes that this isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on at a soccer game, or anywhere in fact. And this definitely won’t be the last.

Cause everybody’s in love with Stacy’s mom.

[imaginedisish]

My Girl (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!! So sorry this took so long. Here is the secret relationship/breeding kink fic. I honestly really like this one...and I hope you guys do too. Was listening to "Juna" by Clairo while writing it, but went with "My Girl" for the title. ENJOY!

Summary: You and Logan have been in a secret relationship for months, but everything comes to a head when a new mutant visits the Institute, and won't leave you alone...Logan shows him, and you, who your man is.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Thigh riding, Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), breeding kink, praise kink, possessive!Logan, jealous!Logan, unspecified/implied!Age Gap, established relationship, creepy!OC who hits on reader and doesn't lay off, minor violence, afab!/fem!reader, fluff/feelings, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it?

Word Count: 5,313 this is why it took so long also, smut right under the cut...

You remember the first time he fucked you, vividly. 

It was late at night, after a mission. You almost died in his arms. And that was what broke that thing inside him, the burden of time that he carries, that deep-seated pain that made it justifiable to stay away from you. He had held back for so long—had done his all to resist falling for you. He was screwed from the beginning, and he knew that. But he had become so terrified at the thought of losing you that he hadn’t realized it could happen all the same if he stayed away—if he forced himself to remain a friend. 

So, when he fucked you that first time, that first night, he fucked you like it’d be the last—the only time. 

“Goddammit, so fucking perfect,” he mumbled, his lips bruising yours, shoving himself deep inside—as deep as you could take him. “Needed you this whole time. Can’t live without you.”

“Logan,” you whined, his hips snapping against yours. “D-don’t stop, please.” “Never gonna stop, pretty girl,” he promised. “Can’t go back. Can’t be anywhere but here.”

For months now, you’ve been together—but nobody knows. There’s no doubt about commitment—nothing casual about the relationship in the slightest. You start and end every day in Logan’s bed. You’ve talked about running off together, getting married, and settling down. For the first time in his long life, Logan sees a future where he’s happy—genuinely happy. 

The sun peaks through the curtains. You curl yourself into Logan’s chest. His arms are wrapped around your back, holding you tight against him, even in his sleep. You listen to his breathing as the fall breeze creeps through the open window. Everything is calm and quiet in the morning, when everyone is still tucked away in their bedrooms, sound asleep. 

Logan groans, tugging you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Go back to sleep.” His voice is heavy, laden with exhaustion. “Too early.” He kisses the spot just under your ear, and you moan involuntarily, feeling extra sensitive in the haze of the morning. He smiles softly against your neck, and kisses you again, his teeth grazing your skin. You moan louder this time, intertwining your legs with Logan’s. “Love those pretty little noises you make.”

“Feels good,” you murmur, his thigh slotting between your legs, pressing against your core. You can’t help but grind down on his thigh, rocking your hips back and forth. “Need you, Lo,” you beg. 

“You’re gonna ruin me,” Logan husks, his palms warm against your bare skin as he slips underneath your shirt—which is really his. 

He’s slow in the morning, pressing soft kisses on your bare shoulders, letting his touch linger longer than normal. He likes the peace of it all—waking up to each other, smelling you next to him, feeling the other side of his bed warm and full of you. When he fucks you, early like this, he takes his time. 

His fingertips trace the curves of your stomach, falling into your dips, gripping your flesh. Logan breathes you in, his lips softly melting into yours. “Still too early?” You mumble between soft, lazy kisses. 

“Never too early to want you,” Logan husks, dragging his thigh against your core again. “Always need you.” You can feel his erection through his boxers. “Gonna take care of my girl. Gonna make you—”

There’s a knock at the door. “Logan?” It’s Scott’s voice on the other side. He knocks again. “Logan, you in there?”

Logan tries to ignore him, his fingertips dragging down your sides, bumping into the hem of your panties as he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses down the hollow of your throat. You let out a breathy moan as Logan bites down on your pulse point. He smiles under your jaw at the soft sound, content that you can’t hold back. 

“Logan,” you whisper, running your hands up his arms, to his shoulders, your fingertips finding the nape of his neck. “He’s not gonna stop.”

Sure enough, Scott knocks again. “Logan, I know you’re in there,” he calls, banging on the door now. “Wake up. We have some tech guy on his way.” 

Logan groans into your neck. “Why do you need me, Summers?” Logan licks your collarbone teasingly, hiking your t-shirt farther up your body. 

“He’s…a mutant,” Scott explains. “He can speak with machines, computers, code—you name it, he can do it. He’s gonna fix some stuff around the mansion. Charles asked me to make sure you’re awake just in case…” Scott trails off.

Logan finishes Scott’s sentence. “In case everything goes to shit?” 

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Scott huffs, likely shaking his head on the other side of the door. “But yes. In case things don’t go as planned. I’m also looking for—"

But Logan cuts Scott off, saying your name for him. 

“Yeah, I can’t find her. Do you know where she might—”

“On a run,” Logan chimes in, and you suppress your laughter by pressing your face into his chest. “She’ll be back soon.” Logan’s arms wrap around your back, holding you against him. 

“Alright,” Scott says, shuffling, slowly stepping away from the door. “If you see her, let her know what’s going on, okay?”

“Trust me bub,” Logan husks, his fingers digging into your flesh, tickling you. “I’ll make sure she knows.” 

Scott mumbles something unintelligible as he walks down the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he disappears down the stairs. 

Logan’s lips are attached to your neck again, sucking playfully. “Where were we?” He teases, his nails grazing down your back. His palms settle on your ass, squeezing your flesh tightly in his hands. 

You moan, your chest flush with his. “Logan,” you whine. “We need to get up,” you insist, your hands pushing against Logan’s broad shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscular biceps. “Can’t stay in bed anymore.”

Logan grunts, his thigh still nudged between your legs, rocking into your core. You want him, and it’s tempting to let him take you right here, right now. But you can’t. And he knows it. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and pulls you tightly into his chest. “Later,” he promises, his lips finding the shell of your ear. You smile at the thought. There was always a later with Logan.

You snuck out of Logan’s room, unnoticed, as always. It was still early—too early for the ruckus of a morning at the mansion to begin. You got ready for the day and slipped downstairs. You’re still shocked at just how oblivious the rest of the team is. Truly, no one knows about you and Logan. 

You’re in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of coffee, waiting for the day to start. Familiar, heavy footsteps approach, and you smile before you can even see his face. 

“Hi pretty girl,” Logan coos, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your front. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his chest and the strength of his heartbeat. He presses a chaste kiss to the crown of your head and walks over to the coffee pot. 

Scott enters the kitchen as Logan takes his first sip of coffee—one second earlier and he would have seen Logan holding you. “The guy is here,” Scott announces from the doorway. He looks at you and smiles. “Oh! Hey! How was your run?” He asks cheerfully. 

You almost spit out your coffee, remembering what you were actually doing this morning. “Great!” You say, doing your all to hold back your laughter. “Surprisingly relaxing.” Logan snorts and plays it off like he’s sniffling.

Scott smiles, none the wiser, and nods, cocking his head towards the hallway just outside the kitchen. “Come meet the tech guy!” He backs out of the doorway and into the hallway. Logan settles his coffee cup—which reads #1 Professor—next to yours on the counter and gives your waist a quick squeeze as you hop out of the chair. You walk shoulder to shoulder into the foyer. All the signs of your relationship are there—out in the open—and yet, still, no one seems to catch them.

You step into the foyer, and there’s Scott and the Professor by the front door, chatting with a younger man—who’s about your age. The man’s eyes find yours, and he smiles softly. “Hi there!” He calls, waving. “I’m Mark!” He strides away from Scott and the Professor and towards you. “But you can call me Techno.” He smirks and winks, extending his hand out, waiting for you to take it.

Logan grabs his hand instead, gripping it tightly, catching Mark off guard. “Wolverine,” Logan growls. “And you can’t call me Logan,” he adds, gritting his teeth. “So, you turn on computers, bub?” 

Mark grimaces, wrenching his hand from Logan’s grasp. “A little more than that,” he asserts, closing his eyes and bawling his fists. You look up as the lights flicker, and televisions turn on and off. Your cell phone rings in your pocket, and you pull it out. The screen reads: Incoming Call from Mark.

Your lips part. “How did you…” You trail off. 

Mark shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “My powers essentially let me communicate with electricity and tech,” he explains. You can practically hear Logan seething beside you. 

“A technopath,” Charles offers as he rolls over to join the three of you with Scott in tow. 

“Exactly,” Mark says, nodding to Charles. “Makes it easy to put my number into pretty girls’ phones.” Mark winks at you, and you press your lips into a straight line in response. 

You shake your head. “I’m not inter—”

You’re cut off by the sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing. “These,” Logan pauses, lifting his claws to Mark. “Make it real easy to hurt creeps who put their numbers into girls’ phones without asking first, bub.” 

Mark rolls his eyes, and the corners of your lips twitch up. You try to force down your smile, try to slow the rhythm of your heart. You secretly liked when Logan got possessive over you. He was inherently protective, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on just a little. 

“Let’s stay on course,” Charles reprimands, guiding Mark to the hallway to the left with a wave of his hand. “Let me show you some of the machines I’d like you to work on.”

“It would be my pleasure, Professor Xavier,” Mark says harshly, his eyes locked on Logan as he backs away to follow Charles and Scott.

Logan lowers all but his center claw, giving Mark the middle finger as he turns around. “Don’t mind Logan,” Scott says as they disappear into a room, the door shutting behind them.

“Logan,” you whisper, now that everyone is gone. “Don’t worry,” you assure, bringing a hand to his shoulder. 

He turns to look at you. “He’s a fucking creep.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

 It is not going well, or fine.

Mark is something of a nuisance. He’s only been here for an hour, but he has already created multiple excuses to talk to you, to pull you away from whatever task is at hand. 

You’re in the middle of teaching an English class, discussing Mrs. Dalloway with a group of older students. “So, what are we to make of Clarissa and Sally’s relationship?” You ask the students, to no avail. 

This was your hardest class of the day—especially given the fact that you’re not even a decade older than most of the students. You had joined the X-Men in your early 20s, your powers having shown themselves a bit later than in most mutants, and only a few years have passed since then. Convincing the students who have been here their whole lives that you deserve to teach has been nothing short of a challenge. 

So, when Mark butts his head in on your class, annoyance burns through your body. You take a deep breath and swallow down your frustration. 

“Hey!” He chimes, his head poking through the open classroom door. “Mind if I take a look at your computer really quick?”

The class perks up, more focused on you than they were just seconds ago. You fake a smile, nodding and pushing yourself off the front of your desk so that he has space to access the computer. 

He slips behind the desk and smiles widely. “You didn’t have to move,” he remarks. “Would’ve been nice to have you close.”

You want to gag. You turn away from the students, whispering so they can’t hear. “Listen,” you chide, narrowing your eyes. “I am not interested, so could you please—”

“What are you doing in here, asshole?” Logan’s voice echoes against the walls of the classroom. For the first time all year, the class is paying incredibly close attention. “The Professor told you to check the computers in the lab down the hall.” Logan fully enters the room, striding over to Mark, his hands bawled into fists at his sides. “Beat it, bub.”

“Whatever,” Mark mutters, his head down as he exits the classroom. The bell rings, and the class stands, grabbing their things and filing out the door. 

You groan. “Please read the next twenty pages for tomorrow!” You shout over the hubbub and shuffling of students. “I know it’s a challenging novel, but I think you guys can…” The students are gone before you can finish your sentence. “Handle it.” 

Logan smiles sympathetically, closing the distance between you and him. His presence is comforting, warm, everything you’ve ever needed. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Sorry,” he apologizes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Didn’t mean to make your class harder than it is already.”

You take a deep breath, your annoyance fading away. “You helped,” you whisper. “Mark is the one who ruined things,” you insist. “He won’t leave me alone.”

Logan chuckles. “You don’t like him?” He teases. “Don’t like a guy your own age flirting with you?” He’s egging you on, trying to joke, but you can tell part of him is a bit serious. 

You shake your head. “Only like you.” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat and Logan grunts. 

He reluctantly pulls away, the palms of his hands dragging down your arms, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Gotta get to my class,” he husks, his fingers slipping, tugging longingly as he steps to the door. “Meet me after?” He asks, but he already knows the answer. You’ll be outside his classroom door before the bell rings, waiting for him.

You nod, and he smiles, his hands gripping the doorframe like some invisible magnet is pulling him away, and he’d give anything to spend another second with you. He slips down the hallway, and into his classroom. 

You spend the next thirty minutes or so grading papers, waiting for the period to end so that you can walk across the hall to Logan’s class. Another few minutes pass, and you start to collect your things, readying yourself to meet Logan. Your heart thumps in your chest at the thought, even after all the months you’ve spent together. 

You grab your bag and head to the door, closing it behind you and locking up. You cross the hall and stand outside Logan’s door. He’s teaching a younger group of kids—ten to eleven-year-olds. You would trade places with him in a heartbeat if you could. The younger students loved you. There was no question of respect, no doubt of your power. But Logan was given the class as a challenge—Charles wanted to test his patience. 

And, honestly, seeing him with the children did something to you. You loved watching the way he doted on them, carefully explaining material in a way they’d understand. He was an excellent teacher, and one day, you’re sure, he’d make an even better father. You find yourself falling into fantasy: Logan, late at night, a baby—your baby—on his chest. You can see it now—him changing a diaper, teaching the child to walk. Your heart squeezes in your chest, your eyes falling closed as you daydream about the future—your future together. 

You’re so distracted that you don’t hear Mark walk up to you—don’t feel his hand grab your shoulder.

You yelp and jump. “Oh my god,” you mumble, turning around and coming face to face with him. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand lingering for far too long on your shoulder. He finally peels away, his arms falling to his sides. He leans against the wall, trying to appear casual and cool. “What are you doing tonight?”

The bell rings before you can think of a polite way to shoo Mark away, and the students exit Logan’s classroom, happily shouting greetings in your direction. You stood outside Logan’s door every day, and the students were always excited to see you.

A few of them run up to hug you, complaining about Logan’s gruffness. When they hear Logan’s footsteps approaching the door, they bolt down the hallway, their laughter booming against the walls. 

Logan steps out into the hall, and he groans audibly when he sees Mark next to you. But Mark ignores Logan, his eyes trained on yours. “Got plans?” He asks again. 

You roll your eyes. “Dude, I’m not interested!” You groan, too irritated to pretend to be nice. Mark smirks and parts his lips, ready to persist like the creep he is.

Logan steps in front of you, his claws already out. “Listen, bub,” he growls, his claws just inches from Mark’s chest. “If you don’t fuck off and stop harassing my girl, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Mark scoffs. “My girl? What are you, her father? You can’t possibly be dating her.”

You can see the anger in Logan’s eyes, the honest rage. “Lo,” you soothe. “Don’t do it.” But you know it’s too late. His decision is already made.

Logan shoves Mark against the wall, his claws pressed against his throat. “I’m her fucking boyfriend, bub,” he grunts as Mark squirms helplessly under his hold. 

“Oh, her boyfriend?” He teases, despite the fear in his eyes. “Aren’t you too old to be a boyfriend?”

Logan shoves him harder into the wall, and Mark yelps pathetically, like a small dog. “More serious than that,” Logan asserts. “Guessing you wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?” 

“Alright, break it up!” Scott’s voice echoes from down the hall. He runs over, Jean and the Professor by his side. Rogue and Gambit follow close behind. But Logan doesn’t budge, the tips of his claws almost digging hard enough to draw blood. 

You bring your hand to Logan’s shoulder. “He isn’t gonna hurt me,” you whisper to Logan. “I could handle him easily if he tried.” You slide your hand to the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him, to relax him. “Nothing’s going to happen, okay?” 

Logan retracts his claws and lets go of Mark, who stutters away from Logan and into the center of the hallway. “I’m getting the fuck out of here!” Mark shouts, but Logan doesn’t react. He simply intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“You okay?” He asks, his thumb brushing circles into the side of your hand. 

You arch a brow. “Are you okay?” You smile and lean into him. 

“So…” Scott trails off, interrupting. “You two are…”

“Together.” You finish his sentence, your eyes still on Logan’s. You can feel the tension in his shoulders stretch down to his hand. He’s rigid, still on edge. You know he needs to get out of here, needs to be alone with you. 

“How long has this been going on?” Scott asks, genuinely caught off guard. “Did anyone know about this?” 

You turn to the team to see heads shaking side to side—save for the Professor. “I did, of course,” Charles confesses. “But I felt it was best left a secret until the two lovebirds decided otherwise.”

Rogue shakes her head, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “I can’t believe you never told me!” 

“Told you what?” Jubilee calls from down the hall, approaching the group. She blows a bubble as she stands next to Rogue, her eyes trailing down to where your and Logan’s hands connect. Her eyes widen and her bubble bursts. “No way!” She cheers, jumping up and down. 

“Settle down,” Charles laughs, extending his hand down the hall to where Mark was just moments ago. “Scott, make sure our technopath friend makes it out the door alive.” Scott nods and heads down the hall. Charles turns to you and Logan. “As for the two of you,” he pauses, winking. “We’ll discuss more at a later point.”

You smile in understanding, and Logan squeezes your hand—another sign it’s time to go. He’s still worked up about Mark; he needs to get this out of his system, needs to relieve all the built-up tension. 

“Got something I need to take care of,” Logan says to the group, tugging you down the hallway.  

He strides through the mansion, practically yanking your arm out of your socket. “Logan,” you whisper, trying to catch his attention. You’ve never seen him like this—rage and jealousy like fire in his eyes, dripping from his pores. He leads you up the stairs and towards his bedroom, and it suddenly dawns on you what exactly he needs to take care of. 

Logan pushes the door open and slams it closed the second you’re inside. His hands are immediately on you, grabbing at the pillowy flesh of your ass, pinning you to the door. His lips find yours—hungry and rough, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching your face. He tastes you, his tongue seeking more of you as it swipes across your lower lip. You open your mouth, inviting him in, your tongue tangling with his.

Logan hoists you up without breaking the kiss, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his erection straining inside his jeans, pressing against your heat. He grinds into you as one hand slips under your top and drags up your back, holding you tightly against him. 

“Need you,” he mumbles against your lips. “Always fucking need you.” He tears you away from the door and towards the bed. He throws you onto the mattress and climbs over you, slowly, like an animal stalking its prey. “Tell me you need me, pretty girl.”

“N-need you,” you stutter as he settles on top of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. 

“I’m not too old for you?” Logan teases, one of his hands loosening its grasp on your arm and trailing down your body, settling on the hem of your shirt. “You don’t wanna be with anyone else?” He hikes up your top, pushing it above your breasts. 

You can feel the heat pooling between your legs. “No,” you whine, arching your back as his fingertips play with the bottom of your bra. “Only wanna be with you,” you breathe as Logan slowly, teasingly pulls your bra up. “Please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “Want you to fuck me.” 

Logan smirks, finally tugging your bra and top over your head and casting them to the floor. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, palming your breasts with his free hand, rolling your nipples under his thumb. 

“Fuck,” you moan as he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

Logan hums, his fingertips trailing across the valley of your breasts, doing the same on the other side. Logan pinches harder, and you moan louder this time. “That’s it,” he coos, his lips finding your pulse point, sucking roughly. “Don’t be quiet, darlin’,” he demands. You whisper his name, your voice whiny and needy. “Show me how much you need me. Keep making those pretty little noises, baby.”

“Feels good,” you whimper as his hand traces down your stomach, to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in his fist and yanking it up to your waist.

He chuckles darkly. “You wore this just for me?” He asks, his thumb hooking inside the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. “Wanted to make it easier for me to fuck you?”

“Fuck, yes, just for you,” you pant, watching as Logan lifts himself off you, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head. He dexterously unclasps his belt buckle and throws the leather to the floor. He balances on his forearm as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down his thighs along with his boxers. “I’m all yours, Lo,” you promise as he presses his forehead to yours.

Logan’s hand glides down your side, slipping between your legs and finding your folds. You moan as his fingertips prod at your entrance, spreading your slick. “Fuck, all this is for me?” He pinches your clit before swiping through your folds again. “You’re soaked already, princess.” His fingertips brush your clit, tracing achingly slow circles into the bud. 

You rock your hips against Logan’s touch, searching for more friction. “Logan, need you,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I’m yours.”

“All mine?” He whispers, his touch suddenly disappearing. You groan at the loss of contact. “Say it again, pretty girl,” he demands, guiding his cock to your folds. 

“All yours,” you answer, trying to move your hips lower to feel just an inch of him. “Please just—”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slams into you, down to the hilt with one thrust. He throbs against your walls as he works you open, his hips still, his cock splitting you in two. “Fuck,” Logan grunts. “So fucking tight. Perfect little pussy. Wanna stay right here forever. Maybe I won’t even fuck you. Maybe I’ll just make you sit on my cock.”

But you need him to move, need him to take you. “Logan, f-fuck me,” you choke, trying to move your hips. His hand grips your waist, stopping you from sliding up his length. “Please, move,” you plead. 

“So impatient,” he chides, kissing you bruisingly, biting your lips. He finally pulls out and slams back in, bottoming out again. His hand slides down your waist and slips between your legs. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I want?” 

His hand is just above your clit, inches away from where you need him most, waiting for your answer. You nod emphatically. “Yes,” you say with pleading eyes. “Anything. You can do anything just please—oh fuck!” Logan pinches your clit and starts his machinations, swirling around the bud. He pulls out and pumps back in, setting a ruthless pace. 

His hips snap against yours, taking all of you with reckless abandon. His lips swallow your moans, consuming you, drinking you in. Of all the times he’s fucked you, it’s never been quite like this. There’s a hunger in Logan’s eyes that you’ve never seen before, an undying need you’re not sure can be satisfied. Something feels different about this time—more intense, fervent, and feverish. 

Logan thrusts in and out of you, bottoming out with every pump, still stretching you out. His fingertips stroke your clit roughly, your walls already fluttering around him. He curses under his breath, his chest heaving against yours. 

“Look at you,” he groans, fucking into you. “So beautiful like this. Always so beautiful.” You can feel his cock twitching inside you. “Wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

“I-I already am,” you stammer, his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. “Always gonna be yours.”

“Want more than that,” Logan grunts, his hips rocking, his pace quickening. He’s so deep inside you—hitting exactly where you need him most with every thrust. 

“Whatever you want,” you pant, your chest pressing flush to his. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Yeah?” He growls at the shell of your ear. “You gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me stuff you full of me?”

“Yes, please,” you cry out as he pumps in and out, shoving himself as deep inside as he can possibly fit. You feel so full, so complete. Nothing compares to having Logan this close, to having him be so connected to you. You’re already coming undone underneath him, falling apart. “Want you to stay inside.” And then the words fall from your lips without a second thought. But you mean it, and you want it more than anything…

“Wanna have your baby, Lo.”

Logan groans at your words, his cock throbbing with need. “Fuck, don’t tease me like that, sweetheart.” 

“N-not teasing,” you stammer. “I mean it.”

“Shit,” Logan growls, his skin slapping against yours, your words spurring him on. He’s letting himself go, letting himself plunge deep inside you, fast and hard. “Such a good girl,” he praises, his length dragging against your walls, pushing deeper still. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Yes!” You cry out, the fire burning in your belly spreading up to your spine, coursing through your veins. Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tightly.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you, his hips stuttering. “Want you forever.”

You throw your head back as his fingers swirl around your clit. “You have me Lo, always gonna have me.” Your walls clench down around him, and the tension snaps. Electricity shoots up your spine as your orgasm crashes into you. It’s intense—more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. Pleasure washes over you in waves, heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

Logan is right behind you, whispering a string of praises as he finishes inside you. “Did so fucking good for me. Always so perfect, beautiful.” His thrusts slow until he’s still inside you, but he doesn’t pull out. “Don’t wanna move, princess,” he husks, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“You don’t have to,” you say, your voice hoarse. Logan rolls you onto your side, hoisting your leg up and over his hip, keeping himself deep inside your cunt. You close your eyes, your heartbeat finally steadying, your chest still heaving in time with Logan’s. 

The silence is comfortable, calming. You listen to Logan’s breathing as he runs his hands up and down your back. “You okay?” He asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. 

You hum. “I’m perfect,” you mumble, burying your face into his chest. “Do you really…” You trail off, suddenly nervous to ask the only question on your mind, despite everything that just happened. 

“Yes,” Logan answers immediately. “I meant it. Wanna be a family. Wanna be with you forever.”

You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his back. You can feel his cock growing hard inside you as you move to get more comfortable. “I want that too, Lo,” you sigh. “More than anything.” You smile against him, thinking about your future, thinking about how all this started because some asshole wouldn’t leave you alone. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice. 

You look up at him. “You’re crazy, you know that?” You joke, your smile widening. “You could’ve hurt that guy.”

Logan’s smile widens too. “Just crazy about you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He flips you onto your back and hovers over you, his cock still deep inside you. “Should’ve kicked his ass.” You bite your lip, waiting for his next move. “You’re my girl,” he groans, sliding out of you slightly. 

“Yours,” you breathe as he thrusts back in. “All yours.”

tags: @cosmiccandydreamer @alsoprettyinpink @alastorssimp @1800-fight-me @iamburdened @chaoticweirdogeek @loganobsessed @seasonofthenerd @witch-lemon @the-occasional-artist1125 @https-murdock @afw5 @wolviesgirl @the-ruler-of-death @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[chocum]

soft morning sex with ken.

he’s just so raw and warm. kissing you so sweetly, so gently, as if you’ll break and crack and crumble if he applies too much pressure. holding and handling you like the precious thing you are.

trailing down the ridge of your neck to your chest and he’s cupping your tits, taking his time with each one because moments like this with you always seem to move too fast. suckling them before coming off with a low pop, his smile lazy, gradually tugging at the corners of his swollen lips.

kisses down your tummy, petting your clit, “baby so wet and needy for me” he purrs, groggily, and it sounds like rich dark chocolate, melting and dripping down your throat. “did you dream about me or somethin?” as if he hasn’t been toying and teasing your body the way he knows you, his wife, loves.

you roll your eyes, “no”, but you’re smiling too. running fingers through his mused bed-head because he’s just so handsome. the sun peaking through lacy curtains and hitting against the sharpness of his features. needy first thing in the morning, licking up and down your sloppy pussy, before letting his tongue prod and dip into your sticky walls. he loves the way you taste. tastes like his. closing his eyes, leaning, resting against the fat of your thigh like a pillow to just eat his fill.

he thinks you sound so cute in the morning. husky yet still soft to him, especially when you whine out his name, your body curving, tangled in the smooth sheets as you come undone on his tongue.

pulls out his cock to just rut into you softly, cups your face, staring into your pretty eyes, his browning irises, pupils dilating as they stare into yours. leaning down, he kisses the warm bridge of your nose, your forehead, then lips. pressing his against yours, kissing you so slow likes he’s trying to taste each and every individual bud on your tongue.

“look so damn pretty like this, my love, feel so good. you always make me feel so good”

praises fall from his mouth, his breath hot, so close to your face. so intimate, refusing to pull back, to rid himself of your warmth because he swears he’ll die without it.

“ba- baby, i’m so close” honey coated grunts trapped against your lips, breathed into your very core as his strokes grow messy, losing rhythm before he’s emptying himself into you. decorating your walls and filling you up how he likes. how you like.

he just loves being able to wake up by your side.

[autumnscribbles]

truth | rc

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader, rafe x sofia

summary: y/n overhears sofia and hollis unintentionally, and as rafes friend decides to tell him

warning: swearing, that’s about it i think

wc: 1.8k

a/n: thank you to the anon who sent this in! i’m loving the rafe angst lately, i’ve been having so much fun getting back into writing!! I legit couldn’t think of a title so for now there isn’t one lmaooo

part 2

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

The fresh night air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath. You always loved walking at night. The air always felt better, the way everything quieted and slowed down always brought you peace. You loved to sit on the dock, listening to the crash of the waves. You watched the stars, mentally pointing out your favorite constellations as you spotted them.

You were brought out of your trance by a familiar voice coming from one of the boats in your vicinity.

“How much?”

You turned your head, leaning your body to try to get a good view. You spotted Sofia, sitting on a boat with that blonde lady you saw the other day. What was her name again? Holly?

“25, dear,” she said. “No questions asked.”

You slowly rose to your feet, trying to get a better view and be more in earshot. You had to stop your jaw from dropping when you heard the conversation. Twenty five grand for Sofia to convince Rafe to take the Goat Island deal. The well put together woman tried to make it same like it was for Rafe’s benefit, but you could tell by Sofia’s reactions that it wasn’t. She just wanted the money, she didn’t care how.

“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

You saw Holly…Hollis! That’s what it was! She handed something to Sofia, and you caught a glimpse of what looked like cash inside. The conversation started wrapping up and you quickly picked up your pace, walking in the opposite direction and off the dock so neither of them saw you.

The sound of your shoes on the pavement sounded too loud in your ears as you hurried back to your house. You knew you weren’t supposed to overhear the conversation, but what were you supposed to do with that information now that you had it? You had to tell Rafe, right? He was your friend. You couldn’t let him get screwed over, especially not when he thought Sofia had good intentions.

You sat on the edge of your bed, breathing shallow as you went over everything you heard. You let out a mix of a sigh and a groan as you flopped onto your back, staring at the ceiling. You’d sleep on it, and decide how to go about telling Rafe tomorrow. You were supposed to meet him at the beach, maybe you could catch him alone before that.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

The sun was bright and unforgiving, your eyes squinting automatically as you walked down the street. You decided you’d meet Rafe at his place before going down to the beach together. You needed to catch him alone.

You already felt the sweat forming on your forehead as you approached his front door, knocking urgently. When he didn’t answer, you knocked again. Eventually, the door flung open, his eyes half closed once the sun hit his face.

“Can you chill out?” he groaned, shielding the sun with his hand.

You could tell he had just woken up. Usually you’d feel bad, but honestly, you didn’t care. You needed to talk to him, to tell him what you heard and saw last night.

“Rafe I need to tell you something,” you said. “It’s important.”

He groaned slightly before stepping aside, silently inviting you in. He disappeared for a minute or two, arriving back with two mugs of coffee in his hand. You let him take a few sips, waiting for the caffeine to be in him before you started explaining. He needed to be alert and awake when he heard it.

“I was out at the dock last night, just clearing my head,” you started. “And I overheard something I think you should know.”

He stared at you, urging you to continue. His bright blue eyes were fixated on you now, fully awake.

“I saw Sofia and…Hollis?” it came out as more of a question. “I heard Hollis telling Sofia that she would give her 25 grand to convince you to sign the deal.”

“What?” Rafe said, his eyebrows ruffling together and his head shaking as he set his mug down on the coffee table beside him. “You must have misheard.”

“I saw Sofia take the money, Rafe,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I know you really like her and everything but I really thought you should know and-”

“Just stop, y/n!” Rafe cut you off, raising a hand as if to pause you. “Spare me the fucking dramatics. Why are you trying to fuck with me?”

His jaw clenched, twitching as if he was biting his tongue. You hit a nerve, you could tell. You sat up a bit straighter, trying to show that you were serious. He wasn’t believing you. He didn’t want to think you might be right.

“I’m not!” you protested. “I just thought you should know. I think this Goat Island thing is sketchy, and she’s in on it.”

“Are you seriously that fucking jealous?” he asked, his voice raising as he stood up, towering over you. “You seriously can’t handle the thought of me being happy with someone so much that you have to make shit up?”

“Rafe this isn’t about Sofia!” you defended, standing up to match him. “I want you to be happy, but I can’t not let you know she’s being shady behind your back!”

“No, you know what y/n?” he asked, not waiting for the answer. “I’ve waited for you forever. Just waiting for the day you finally give me the time of day. For once, my attention is on someone other than you. And you can’t fucking handle it.”

You took a step back, your mouth opening slightly. You were at a loss for words. He really thought this was a jealousy issue? That you made up a whole complex story just because you don’t like Sofia? Sure, you were a little hurt when they got together. She was beautiful, and kind, and there were moments you wished he looked at you the way he looked at her. But this wasn’t about hurting her, or getting your way.

“You just loooooved pulling me around behind me like your puppy,” he continued, matching your step back with one forward. His voice lowered and his eyes narrowed, meeting your gaze. “You loved holding me close. You know how I feel for you, and you love it, y/n. You love the attention and you love how you can use it to your advantage.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” you screamed. “You’re fucking delusional Rafe. I’m trying to tell you something serious and you think this is just a love triangle? A lovers quarrel?”

“Stop messing with my head!” he shouted, tapping his temples with his index fingers. “That’s all you do, is fuck with my head! All the time!”

Your mind was reeling. Is that how he felt? Like you were just stringing him along. You never knew Rafe saw you as anything other than a friend. If you weren’t so focused on trying to tell him the truth, you would have held on longer to what he said about waiting for you. Did he mean he had feelings for you all this time? You always buried your feelings for Rafe, pretending they didn’t exist. It was easier that way. Easier to accept you’d never be together.

Rafe had always made your heart flutter, but the baggage that came with him often kept you at a distance when it came to getting closer. He was your friend, you cared for him. You never told him about how you truly felt, because you knew it would likely be a bad idea to be romantically involved. You assumed he’d never feel that way about you anyway, so you buried the hatchet.

“Fine,” you exhaled. “Don’t come to me when you find out your little girlfriend screwed you over. It’s your 400k, not mine.”

Trying to keep up an air of strength, you clenched your jaw. You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t react emotionally. He’ll find out the truth eventually, the truth always comes out. He’d admit you were right if you gave it time.

Until then, you walked out his door, leaving it open behind you. His earlier words still coursed through your mind. The mean ones, and the ones about his feelings for you, but as always, you swept them under the rug. You couldn’t face the truth yourself.

You felt something tug at your wrist, turning around to meet Rafe’s blue eyes once again. You thought they looked glossier, a sheen over them. Was he tearing up? No way, Rafe Cameron never cries. Not over this.

“Y/n,” he said lowly, a stark contrast from his previous shouting. “Tell me the fucking truth. Are you just saying this to fuck with me and make me question my relationship with Sofia?”

“No, Rafe,” you said honestly. “I know what I saw. This isn’t some ploy to get you to break up with her or be with me instead. I’m just trying to protect you.”

It was the truth. Despite how you felt about Rafe, you wanted the best for him. If Sofia was what was best, you’d support it. You almost wished you hadn’t seen what you saw at the dock. That way, you wouldn’t have to insert yourself in their relationship at all. You could continue to stand on the sidelines, watching his life pass with you becoming less and less present.

“Protect me,” he scoffed, mocking your words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked harshly.

“Protect me from what, huh? My little poor heart being hurt?” he asked sarcastically. “It’s too late for that, y/n. You can’t protect me from anything when you’re part of the problem.”

You shook your head at him, at a loss for words. He clearly wasn’t done speaking, but you ran out of snarky retorts. You felt like you had whiplash from all the directions this conversation was going. He stared at you for a moment, his mouth slightly open, his hands running over his newly buzzed hair. You heard him release a quiet sigh, his head hanging down.

“No one will ever be good enough in your eyes,” he said, looking back up at you. “Not Sofia, and not me. I was never good enough for you, and Sofia isn’t good enough for me. So you can’t protect me from ‘heartbreak’, y/n. Because you are the problem.”

He pointed a finger at you, his teeth clenched together as the words left his lips. He turned around swiftly and walked back into his house, slamming the door behind him. Unable to process what just happened, you stared blankly in his direction, met with nothing but the front of his house. By trying to help, you somehow managed to make things so much worse, and so complicated.

“Now what?” you said to yourself under your breath.