#was supposed to be a much shorter thought

[wizardingsouls]

james doesn't offer more than a sound that could be taken as agreement and protest at the idea of moving, truthfully already nearing his limits of soaking. shorter than usual, sure, but not unheard of even when he hasn't been emotionally reeling beforehand. the main contention was not wanting to give up any time with remus, unsure if the other would be ready to sleep too or go busy himself elsewhere in the house first. he didn't want that; he wanted this.

a thought no sooner settled than the moment undone, remus detangling from him again and this time climbing out of the bath entirely. " forgot what? " james asks in disbelief as he sits up fully alert, feeling suddenly cold compared to a moment ago even though the water hadn't yet lost much of its temperature. at least he gets the consolation of watching moony towel off, which is always a treat. " remus-- " but the other man is already disappearing out of the bathroom to pursue whatever task james had reminded him of, leaving him to sit alone.

it doesn't take long for the renewed silence to bother james, resigned to resting against the edge of the tub as he's already debating hopping out too and tiredly rubbing at his eyes. might as well take the opportunity, he supposes, and his glasses are back in place by the time remus comes back in. he accepts the apology kiss without complaint, though he's sure he still looks confused, a little disappointed when remus doesn't climb back in the water with him.

" they got both of us tickets? " he asks in surprise, vaguely aware this was the year for the world cup but entirely too occupied to think more on the subject. next month. james doesn't even get the chance to start fretting about it before remus is saying he'll stay with sirius and closing off any opening for arguing. harry would love it, the extra time with his friends, and it would give james the opportunity to get to know them better. " you're the best, you know, " james smiles, leaning into moony's touch. they would need to run the plan by sirius sometime in the next few days, so he would know it was coming. but it sounded fun.

turning his head enough to press a kiss to remus's palm, he takes the interruption as the sign it's presented itself. " that's going to have to be the last thing we talk about tonight, or i'm going to fall asleep in here, " james hesitantly admits, though he can't resist reeling the other into another kiss first. its briefer than before, if only because he doesn't want to keep remus knelt on the cool tile longer than he needed to be, and then he's urging the other to stand back up with him. he briefly flirts with the idea of simply stealing remus's towel before deciding against it and stepping out of the tub to reach for a new one, though there's no rush to drying himself off.

" i assume the tickets already have some secret safe spot you've decided on so i can't inconveniently lose one of them. " he's teasing, of course, happy to have an event to look forward to. just also a little nervous about being somewhere without either of them with him.

the ease of trading and sharing touch feels like a treasure. the results of the years james had spent needling for more and the story remus hadn't told him yet about what life had really been like after the attack. he knows moony will share, eventually, like he always does. for tonight though, this counted as answer enough about everything. all of them showed their weariness in different ways, after all. it showed in james most often in the lapses of silence when he used to be almost as difficult to shut up as sirius, and merlin help anyone who got both of them yapping at the same time.

" thanks for the permission, " he echoes playfully, gaze following their hands and eyes half-closing when they stilled again. how was he? exhausted, firstly. emotionally wrung out, still aching a little from being on the floor so long earlier. fucking thrilled knowing with complete confirmation that both remus and sirius still love him as much as he loves them. a dozen more things, all in different directions. " ...i'll concede to being tired. " which would be silly to not admit at this point anyway. but he considers even more carefully before deciding that wasn't enough of an answer.

james shrugs a shoulder, just enough for the movement to be noticeable without disturbing their comfort. " i'm glad to know for certain where we stand, but with everything going on, mostly tired is winning. and it was probably a good thing you had to pause before i did. " and that was edging into the too honest territory, james almost abrupt in being done talking about it. for as much as he enjoyed attention in general, he didn't much like focusing solely on himself, especially when asked to do so in a reflective state. " you know, i never thought i'd end up such a homebody. aside from getting sirius and harry, i just realized i haven't really gone anywhere lately. "

he hadn't gone much of anywhere since waking at st. mungo's, truthfully. once he could get out of there and back home, the focus was getting to a point where they could get padfoot. there had been the one meeting with the minister himself, technically, but the man had come to him when he was still working on not being bedridden. remus did the shopping on the occasions they needed anything, until harry had moved in too and the pair sometimes went together. but james had been so busy focusing on people that it hadn't even occurred to him to worry about places too.

[wannabanauthor]

For some reason, I'm craving Jealous Buck

when it comes to BuckTommy because Buck gets so serious when it comes to Tommy having other friends. I wonder what would have happened if he and Tommy platonically had gone out for that beer, then a handsome guy offers to buy Tommy a drink.

"No, thank you, we're good," Buck says and holds up their beer pitcher.

The stranger of a man chuckles nervously and glances at Tommy. "The offer was for him, not you." He fully faces Tommy, ignoring Buck. "You seem like a craft brew type of guy."

Buck taps the man on the shoulder. "Excuse me, we were in the middle of a conversation. Please leave."

"Evan," Tommy says, giving Buck a stern look.

Buck looks at him, a deep irritated frown putting his face in shadow.

"What?" Buck asks. "He's being rude. We were talking."

The stranger looks between them like he's watching a tennis match, and understanding dawns on his face. "My bad, I didn't realize you were on a date. I'll leave." And the man exits rather quickly.

Buck doesn't even pay attention to that last part. He turns back to Tommy with a bright smile on his face. Tommy's shocked expression doesn't even register.

"Now, tell me more about what was it like being a pilot in the army," Buck says, resting his chin on his hand and leaning forward to listen to Tommy's response.

"Evan..."

"I bet you were the biggest guy in your unit." Buck is practically drooling at the thought.

Tommy's disciplinarian persona vanishes in an instant, replaced by a cocky one. "I mean, yeah, in more ways than one."

Buck eagerly leans closer. "How so?"

Tommy grins and launches into stories of his time in the army, training, flying, wrestling with the other guys, always being on top aka the winner.

"There was this one asshole who made it his mission to always beat me when we sparred, but he never could. I would always pin him," Tommy rambles, but then stops, and his cheeks go pink. He tries to cover it up by sipping his beer.

"And then what happened?"

Tommy clears his throat and looks away. "We found more productive ways to handle our rivalry." His cheeks grow warmer as he remembers back when he and the guy had been alone in the locker room after a spar session.

It had started out innocent enough with Tommy giving his rival a pity compliment, only for the guy to tell Tommy that he hated him then pushed him up against the lockers and kissed him.

Tommy remembers fondly how the guy had made him come with a tongue down his throat and a hand around his cock.

He looks at Evan and sees a hint of desire in his eyes. The same hungry look he had seen on his former rival's face.

[idanielions]

Didn't expect the femslabyuls to get that much attention so here's their original designs before i changed them

[kastheory]

steve did not bully eddie in "the past" steve was a grade below him for 3 out of 4 years of his high school career freshman steve heard this weird loudass sophomore talking w his friends at 100 decibels in the hallway about fighting elves in the woods or something (steve did not know what larping was nor care to find out) and then he went to class bc are you insane hes not fucking w a sophomore you dont normally fuck w people ahead of your grade especially if they yell at people and wear chains and get into fights in the woods (with elves?) and you dont even have classes w them. you dont even care much about them in the first place beyond passing gossip like HAVE YOU GUYS EVER BEEN IN HIGH SCHOOL. sorry. anyway.

then steve keeps catching this guy in his periphery over the next two years shouting about board games and controversial food opinions and metal bands that steve likes a few songs from but could not ever imagine giving that much of a shit about. like at all. and by (steve's) year 3 the motherfucker is bouncing off the walls giving speeches about what the hell ever and saying he cant fucking WAIT to get out of this FUCKED UP PLACE!!!! YEP ITS TRUE IN LESS THAN ONE MEASLY YEAR ILL BE SAYING MY SWEET SWEET GOODBYES TO THIS BRAINLESS CONFORMIST PRISON!!!! and hardly anyone reacts beyond rolling their eyes or snickering to their friends about it and this includes steve because who cares literally who cares. this guys been causing a ruckus since the beginning of time and hes weird and unpredictable and not worth trying to shove in a locker he would probably evade the attack anyway like a nimble mouse or squirrel he might even try to bite you. and steve didnt shove anybody in lockers in the first place so who cares and yeah he has pretty eyes and a funny way of talking and moving around but WHO CARES

and then steve goes through the first round of nightmarish shit that would become a yearly ordeal and then wraps up junior year in a perfectly normal not haunted whatsoever fashion. and then hes a senior and in his subtly cringefail era (ongoing) and that freak guy is STILL HERE for some reason and kinda pissed off and possibly a bit devastated about it so okay great now steve has a few classes with this angry weirdo loudguy but. crucially. he has had a lot of OTHER SHIT to deal with lately (MONSTERS ARE REAL) (GIRL DIED IN HIS POOL) (GF RESENTS HIM) (HAS NO FRIENDS) (COLLEGE APPS) so the only effect eddie's constantly loudmouthed & often unwarranted input during class ever has is that it adds a little flavor to the constant metaphorical and literal headache of steves life.

and then he goes through round 2 of shit and finishes his senior year with little hope for a satisfying future ahead of him and never once thinks about that guy again except when his fellow grads whisper about oh my godd did you hear that the freak flunked out again hahaha and yep sure enough eddie's not there at the graduation ceremony. and he thinks huh i wonder what his fucking problem is and then he MOVES ON. the end. thats the extent of """their past""" at least in terms of any actual interactions btwn the two of them i promise okay listen to me. i was there

[necrotic-nephilim]

Nightwing: Brothers In Blood is such a fucking hilarious comic for DickJay content, given the bulk of the plot is Jason deciding to dress up as Nightwing and kill people which, Dick predictably is not fond of, as a concept.

There's so much in that arc that makes me unwell. Dick straight up saying he wishes Jason had died. The way they instantly banter when they run into each other before Dick gets mad at Jason for dressing up as Nightwing, then Jason begs Dick to work with him.

But what I think gets me the most is the outright confirmation of how even now, Jason still has a serious case of hero worship for Dick and just wants to be like him and get his approval.

nightwing (1996) #120

There's such a complex Jason has over Dick and it makes me Unwell. Jason identifying with Dick, wanting his attention, his approval. His love, even. I mean, later on when Jason gets kidnapped, in his mind he hallucinates Dick talking to him and it outright confirms he wants Dick to save him and Jason has a doomsday spiral about Dick not saving him, through his mental image of Dick.

nightwing (1996) #121

Jason wants Dick in his life, there's so much unrequited love and weirdness between them. They're so not normal about each other. Later on he sends Dick a note saying he just wishes they could be family again and I think it's so unhinged of Jason. Dressing up as Dick, just because of how much he loves and respects Dick. So much potential in that.

Also aside from all of that complex this comic is also hilarious for the bit it has where Dick accidentally takes a job as a model and has to dress up as Nightwing, specifically Jason!Nightwing because of the sex appeal Cheyenne (the woman Dick is seeing) thinks it has. And when he's on the runway and sees Jason in the audience he just jumps at Jason, in front of everyone, to beat the shit out of him, while dressed as Nightwing. Which the public thinks is a planned stunt to bank on the weird Sexy Rivalry between the two Nightwings currently running around. It's the most unhinged thing and I think it's so funny. Dick's sort-of-girlfriend makes him dress up as Nightwing!Jason because she thinks it's hot and it'll sell, then Dick beats Jason up in front of everyone, still dressed as Nightwing (specifically Jason), and it reads as a sexy performance modeling piece.

nightwing (1996) #120

Imagine being so weirdly homoerotic about your sort of kind of brother figure that you can't hesitate fighting him when you're supposed to be modeling and everyone thinks the tension is so good it's a part of the show. These two cannot leave each other alone with their weird tangled feelings for each other. I love it dearly.

[beanghostprincess]

"Jealousy and other pathetic feelings"

(Zolu/Sanuso fanfic)

Luffy’s like the sun. So bright and hot that it burns if you approach him enough. Everybody wants to stare at him, but only Zoro is brave enough to get blinded and melt in his rays. Usopp, on the other hand, is so domestic and fragile Sanji fears he might slip in between his fingers like sand. It’s delicate. Both things are. - Zoro and Sanji pining over their boyfriends and moping around with jealousy because Luffy and Usopp are acting closer than usual.

This is a silly fluffy prompt that @leiatroublecat gave me and I turned it into a bittersweet, character analysis, angsty fic because I am a menace to society! That being said, I hope you all enjoy it!! <3

[bonestrouslingbones]

girl help im writing an extra secrety secret thing and it may involve writing from the perspective of someone who has maybe the little beginnings of a crush on fluff and i am having so much trouble because i need to show that in a written physical description and i genuinely cannot think of a single thing about fluff that somebody would find physically attractive

[cuteniaarts]

Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl

17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019

[slicksquid]

maintaining anonymity irl via the customers at my job calling me a man for some reason

[hummingbird-games]

Geminigeminigeminigemni PLEASE tell me Crushed is dropping soon????? I bought the queer games bundle and played the game and I need the rest. Also, will the rest of the characters be partially voiced too?

BYEEEEEEEEEEEEE 👋🏾☠️

Oh my goodness friend, see—

The game is basically finished EXCEPT for the art. Like sprites are being worked on (which takes time, and I’m at the mercy of refreshing my email each day aha) and then there’s the profile pics for the phone—which I’m commissioning my sibling to do. sometime soon. once we both know what we want them to look like. aha—

I want to create a trailer too, something else that requires the finished art, so that will go out either before the game or in tandem.

But to answer your question, I don’t know 😭😭😭 I know for sure it will be summer. Like anywhere between now and the last day of August. But I pinky swear that once the art is done I can give a concrete date. The ball will be back in my court and I’ll know how long it’ll take me to finish things up.

As for voice acting, I would love to have auditions for the characters but that is a feature I haven’t 100% committed to and if I do it will be added after the game is out so there’s no extra delays.

[lieutenant-amuel]

Okay, I got back to writing WBTL yesterday and now I think this story could’ve been a lot better if I didn’t write it from Valerio’s POV.

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

This has been haunting me since forever. How tf does Kourin’s hair work.

Like yes I know she’s not the only person in cfv with Anime Hair but at least Aichi’s lil swoopy bang thing and Kai’s hairstyle and even Chrono’s fucking spiral could happen with enough hairspray and patience but how does Kourin’s ponytail hold her hair up??? The ponytail only seems to be connected to the hair in the loop, by all logic it should fall off the top of her head but it doesn’t how does it work 😭

[astrxealis]

i am so used to my pinned post i kinda don't want to change the format but i want to

[eupheme]

— trouble will find me

[part ii | masterlist]

bodyguard!logan x mobster’s daughter!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: 70s era, dofp/bonedaddy!logan, bodyguard!logan, reader is the daughter of a mobster, reader is shorter than Logan, club setting, use of alcohol, cigar smoking, mutual pining, flirting, light brat taming!logan, references to violence, competence kink, semi-public vaginal fingering, kissing, forbidden relationship

a/n: I can’t stop thinking about dofp!logan sleeping with the girl he’s guarding, this is inspired by that scene! huge thank you to @pr0ximamidnight who let me chit chat about this little idea. you are amazing! 💖💕

His eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip, “‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You hum, “But what if I want a little in me?”

You can feel his eyes follow you.

Which shouldn’t really be surprising. It's his job, of course. Keep an eye on you, keep you safe.

But there’s something in the way he watches.

A curl of smoke from a lit cigar. Fingers tracing the rim of a half-downed whisky, a worn leather jacket thrown over a broad shoulder. The tilt of his chin when your eyes meet his - dark and narrowed, missing nothing. Slipping over you like the soft silk of your dress.

Indulging, almost. Unashamed.

You might have a crush.

You're trying not to think about it too much.

Tonight, you're just trying to enjoy the after-party.

It's all bright lights.

The room is bathed in pinks and yellows and flashing red. Disco club music pumped through the speakers, the panels of the floor flickering to the beat. You've been here for two hours already. Nursing tequila sunrises and pink squirrels. Sweat sticking to the nape of your neck, as the minutes tick by, bleeding past midnight.

He's not going to stop you, just yet. You can have your fun tonight - sway to the beat of the music - as long as you play by the rules.

Logan is so different from the ones before him.

Tripping over their feet to check on you. Breathing down your neck, with their padded-shoulder suits smelling like cigarettes and cheap cologne. Too afraid for themselves, of your father, to actually do a good job of protecting you.

Stifling and all too willing to tell you yes to anything.

It was exhausting.

Logan had come recommended - an acquaintance of a friend. He'd 'get the job done' from what you heard. Motivated. Needed the cash and would listen, no questions asked.

Just the type your father thought he could sway - a half-wild guard dog, his salary a leash. Heeling at the click of a tongue, the snap of fingers.

It's not how you saw him, though.

His silence was not obedience. There was nothing bought about this man - watching you from the line of leather booths along the wall.

You've wondered if maybe - you're just desperate to find some form of kindred spirit in someone. Too used to feeling like an accessory instead of a person. Your appearance at your father's events drove home his image. The good, family man who was oh so generous with his time and money.

Articles were written weekly about how philanthropic he was.

You had no idea if anything ever came from the numerous events you hosted - an attempt at doing something with your education. How much was skimmed off your blood, sweat, and tears, funneled back into what he did best.

Maybe you both saw through the bullshit.

He'll last longer than the others, at least.

More than once you've been halfway out the door, headed off to East Village or SoHo, only for him to catch you by the scruff of your sweater - whisking you back inside or into the Lincoln Town Car before you realized what happened.

An angry fist connecting with the nose of a man who had gotten too close at a gala last week. Cornering you in the coat room. Logan, charging in like a snarling beast when you had whimpered his name - red dripping down to stain the pressed white collar as the man was hauled away.

You’ve been thinking about that for days.

There was no sucking up. No flashing of a holster under his arm, some grandiose promise that you don't need to worry. You've never even seen Logan near a weapon but somehow, you feel more safe with him than you ever have with anyone else.

But this bit of internal tenderness that has sprouted, paired with his competency, has been seriously cramping your style.

It’s been enough that he's been hard to get out of your mind. Two weeks of teasing and poking at the limits set. Never giving you much, with that glare - thick arms crossed over his chest. A little thrill rippling up your spine, when his voice goes low and gruff.

The lights go dim, as the music begins to slow.

With the way your eyes wander, you know he sees you when you pick up a partner.

A man that moves with you, peeling off to crowd your space after your hips swivel with the hustle. His hand dipping low from where it rests on the small of your back.

Bold, when he bends to ask you 'if you'd like to get out of there'.

You meet Logan's eyes when you tell him yes.

Telling yourself that it's just to forget him. Definitely not because you're desperate to see the look on his face. To hear that tone he takes when he's pissed off.

A way to ascertain if you've taken root in his mind, even for just a moment.

There's zero chance Logan heard you from across the room. But it doesn't stop him from moving. Pushing to his feet, cutting straight through the crowd to wrap a hand around your bicep the second you start peeling off with the stranger - heading towards the side door.

"No fucking chance." It's gritted out, as he yanks you to him. Your shoulder collides against his chest as he steps between you and the man.

A sloppy hand pushes against his arm. The man's eyes are hazy under the neon lights as he makes a grab for you.

"Come on, man. I saw her first."

Logan pivots you away with a snarl, "She ain't leaving with you, bub."

Another sloppy shove, glancing off the brown leather jacket.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Logan's tone drips with warning, with knowing, "Gonna regret starting something in a room full of people like this."

And it's now that he takes in how big Logan is. The flex of splayed-wide fingers, knuckles curling into a clenched fist. A look in his eye that says that punches won't be pulled - not tonight.

The stranger takes a step back. It's enough.

You're already getting hauled away before they can answer. Guided into one of the many VIP rooms. A snarled "get the fuck out of here" to the attendant, before Logan's crowding you against the bar - hands bracing on his hips.

Fuming, you push yourself up to sit on the top - an attempt to get closer to his height.

"What was that about?" Your chin lifts, as your arms cross.

His eyes flash - a curl of his lip, "Can't you make my job easy, kid?"

Kid. It always makes you bristle. So far from that, and it's the way he says it. That dripping edge, like he knows something you don't.

"Maybe he was a friend." You deadpan.

"Yeah. Real friendly," He scoffs, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, "You think your daddy is gonna like you going home with a piece of shit like that?"

That makes your teeth clench - a glare sent his way, "I don't think it's any of your business."

"It's literally my business, sweetheart." Logan huffs. His hands curl around the edge of the bar, braced on either side of your knees.

Your breathing hitches, for just a second. The soft name is ground out between his teeth, but it still shoots straight to your pussy.

You haven't been this close to him before. Enough to see the bleed of brown to green in his hazel eyes. The sharp mark between his brows that you want to press your thumb against.

The shorn-down hair at his chin, before it grows thick across his cheeks. Handsome in a way that makes you ache, your fingers curling into fists to keep from touching him.

There's been moments alone - car rides, lounging in the armchair in the corner of your room when he barks at you to hurry up.

But it hasn't been like this.

Maybe it's the opportunity. Maybe it's the amber glitter of tequila in your veins, but you let your palms press against the shining wood. Your knees inch a little further apart, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs.  

"That the only reason you whisked me away?” Your eyebrow lifts, "Kidnapping, if I recall, is one of the things you're supposed to be keeping me safe from."

"You are safe." He deflects, "'s not kidnapping when it's me.”

Those eyes are still on yours. Not dropping to where his hips nearly press against the edge of the bar top.

You break the eye contact first.

“Well, it’s fine.” You sniff - as if his actions had been your idea, “I didn’t want him anyways.”

Logan grunts. There’s the slightest brush - the flex of his thumb at your thigh, where your dress rides up. A long look before he’s pushing back to step away, but your fingers reach out, catching on his white shirt.

“Are you going to ask me what I do want?”

There’s the slightest twitch of his nose. Lips parting to show the peek of a tongue, caught between teeth. The briefest dip of his eyes. Down to the shadow between your breasts, pressed together as you lean forward to catch him.

“I know what you want, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Not gonna happen.”

The rejection stings, and you pout, “What isn’t?”

A sigh, and he’s stepping back into your space. Your hand flattens against his stomach, hard muscles beneath as his head tilts.

“You want a man to take you home. Treat you nice.” Logan’s eyes burn into you. Wide hands curving around your knees, thumbs pressing into flesh, “I’m not that guy.”

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. How it thunders to the beat of the music muted outside this room. Dropping down to pulse between your thighs.

Wondering if he’s thought about you, the way you have him. How he could both see and miss so much at once.

“You’re wrong,” Your head shakes, “I don’t want that.”

A breath, before you’re confessing, ”I want you.”

Logan's eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip.

“‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You echo, “But what if I want a little trouble in me?”

The smile you give him is sweet, a tilt of your head as he catches your hand. Thick fingers curl at your wrist, holding your hand in place. A thumb pressed up against your pulse.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.” He rasps, voice low.

You’re undeterred.

“Could get on my knees.” You coo, “You could show me. Would you like that?”

Logan’s jaw grits. His grip loosens just long enough to feel your wrist flex - before he guides your hands, pressing your palms flat against the polished wood.

“It’s not going like that,” He husks. The tone is the same as when he’s ordering you around, one that makes your back go straight, “Those are staying right there. Got that, honey?”

All you can do is nod, as his hands skate up your thighs. Fingers massaging into flesh, soft and smooth as he eases them wider apart. Fitting himself closer between them.

The way he looks at you now is the way he did before.

Focused, as your dress inches higher. The fabric pooling at your hips as they tilt toward him, the pretty lace between your thighs now on display.

“Look at you,” His tongue clucks. A finger tracing the elastic edge, as you clench in anticipation, “Need this, don’t you?”

Drifting across, a thumb pressing against the fabric. It sends a jolt through you, your fingers almost reaching for him before you remember.

“Good girl.” He muses, as your hands flatten again.

The slightest pressure as the pad of his thumb slips up. Nudging against your clothed clit, as you inhale a sharp breath.

Pressing, and circling. It’s agonizingly slow, his eyes flicking up to watch the way you bite back a whimper. Your hips flexing into his touch, aching for more.

It lifts, so he can see how the fabric has dampened. Clinging to your skin, his knuckle tracing your seam.

“Making a mess.”

You can only whine in reply. Afraid that he’ll stop if you make too much noise. If you move - he’s made it clear he’s in charge here, and for once you’re willing to follow.

The pad of his thumb pulling back, a faint shine in the neon-bathed room.

“That for me?”

Your head nods, “Logan, please-”

There’s a sharp flash of teeth. Fingers pressing low, fitting against you, “You want me here?”

“Yes.”

You need him. Need anything he’ll give you, the sharp pinch in your palms where your nails bite into flesh.

“Ask me.” He coos.

“Please put use your fingers,” It comes in a rush, “Want you in me-”

Logan smirks, as his fingers slip beneath the waistband. Air sucked through clenched teeth when he meets slick, soaked skin. A teasing swirl against your clit before he’s parting you.

The tip of his middle finger tracing your hole, before it dips inside. His hips flex against the wooden edge, when you clench around him immediately. Trying to draw him deeper, as he works himself further in.

His fingers are much thicker than yours. A second already tracing where he opens you up. Teasing the tip in as his hand flexes, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.

Your head tips forward. Each breath growing shorter, as you’re stretched around him. That slight ache unfurling into pleasure. Panting, as the pump of his fingers grow louder - the muffled cadence of skin against skin each time his palm collides with your cunt.

The fabric strains against his hand, his knuckles pressed against the soaked fabric.

Something bright burns in your belly, as your knees press into his hips. It makes you break the rules - a hand grasping at his arm. Anchoring yourself with your grip.

“I wanna watch. Let me see you.”

He lets you. A tap against your hip so you can lift. Carefully pulling your underwear down, easing them over the heels of your boots.

The lace disappears into his jacket pocket. His palms against your inner thighs, spreading you open. A throaty groan when he sees you, one that he can't quite manage to bite back - the rough sound shooting straight through you.

You both watch, when his fingers fit inside you this time. Two sinking down to the knuckle, slick and shining.

Unable to bite back the moan this time, though he does not shush you. His eyes fixed on your face instead, watching how your brow pinches when his fingers crook deep inside you. Searching.

The way you go jolt and then go tense when he finds it, a soft cry loosening.

“You been fucked like this before?” Logan growls, his fingers dragging against that soft spot inside you with his emphasis.

Your head shakes, when he does it again. Eyes dropping to watch his how hand looks, how you wrap around his fingers. The slick shine as they pump a little faster.

His other hand taps against your thigh.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“No,” It comes out hushed. Needy. “Never.”

His lips part with his groan, baring his teeth. With the way he touches you - his thumb moving to rub circles against your clit - it’s not long before he has you close.

A swiftly building pressure in your belly. That space between you eases as your knees close around his hips. His head tilting until his nose ghosts against your cheek.

Breath hot against your neck, as he inhales you. The slightest scrape of teeth that makes you bear down on his fingers - so careful not to leave a mark behind.

“Logan,” You pant. “That feels, ah, I think I’m gonna come-”

He groans against your skin, keeping the same pace. Feeling how you forget yourself - grasping at him, arching into his touch. Your muscles going tight as your breath grows short - panting.

“Give it to me,” Logan growls, “Come on my fucking fingers, baby.”

It’s impossible not to listen. You come, with his thumb pressing against your clit. His fingers notched deep inside you, as he feels your pulse racing beneath his lips.

The moan that rips from you pitches up, and then goes silent.

It leaves you breathless. Deep waves throbbing inside you, as you dampen his palm. Washing over and pulling you under, as your vision darkens.

“That’s fucking it. Come on, honey.” He coos, “Just look at you, so fucking pretty.”

The pump of his fingers goes still, the tips still crooking, as the tight pulses wane. The air comes rushing back into your lungs as you come back to yourself, your hands fisted in his jacket.

His chest heaves. Eyes hungry, when he slips from you. Slick clinging to them, webbing between his fingers as he pulls them up to the light.

Before he’s focusing on you again, his other hand thumbing at your lip.

“Open.”

They part automatically. Closing around the fingers he feeds you. The salt of his skin pairing with the sweet tang of your release, too blissed out to do anything but suck them clean.

“Good girl.”

It’s soft, as his fingers press down. Spreading, until you’ve cleaned yourself from them. Only when they slip from you, does his head dip.

A soft sound as his mouth presses against yours. There’s the sweep of his tongue against your lip, needy and insistent. You part for him, swallowing the moan as he tastes you. Teeth and tongue - deepening the kiss as his hands grip at your waist.

Letting your hands grasp at his shoulders. Tug at his hair until you’re pulled flush against him, your tits crushed against his chest.

Hungry, threatening to devour you, until you mumble his name.

Bringing him back to himself. Sharing a breath, Logan’s forehead pressed to yours when he pulls back. Those spit-slick fingers dropping down.

Palming himself roughly, where his cock strains - thick and hard against his jeans. A bitten-back groan, the word “fuck” rumbling deep in his chest as his hips flex into his hand.

“You going to listen now? Get that out of your system?” It comes out ragged, and you’re nodding.

All your sharp edges smoothed down. Blissfully complacent, as his fingers get a better grip on your waist. Bringing you down to the floor with wobbly legs, his hand coming to grasp at your upper arm.

“Good.” He growls, “Come on.”

A sharp tug, and you almost trip over yourself to follow.

“I’m taking you home.”

ahh I had the idea for this and had to jot it down! and I do know he goes by james/jimmy in the 70s because it’s pre-weapon-x, but I'll be keeping it as logan for this. (And I am thinking this will be a two-shot - give her a chance to get what she wants 😏💖)

[emphistic]

What is Love?

Picking Yuuji up from school was not a rare occurrence. On the other hand, picking Yuuji up from school while accompanied by Sukuna was a rare occurrence.

Kids are flocking to you like birds, asking if you were Yuuji's mom, and who that creepy man next to you was — this all reminded said creepy man about why this was a rare occurrence, and how it should stay one.

The final straw for Sukuna snaps when a little boy, probably around Yuuji's age, approaches you with his hands behind his back. "Hi, you are very pretty. Can I be your boyfriend?"

You looked a bit taken aback, before remembering this was a kid talking to you, and kids could be quite . . . odd. "Um, thank you! You are very sweet, but, I already have a boyfriend."

Sukuna smirks to himself, a smug expression painted on his face.

"That's okay. I have two girlfriends; you can have two boyfriends," the kid giggled. "He doesn't have to know."

At this, Sukuna glares at the little boy, fully prepared and ready to beat him up, but he halted, as you placed a coaxing hand on his arm.

"Umm—"

"Here!" The boy shoved a daffodil into your hands, it was covered in dirt and had a few missing pedals.

"Oh! This is—"

"I picked it up from over there," he pointed a little finger across the school. "It's pretty. And you're pretty. So it's for you! Hehe, pretty flower for pretty lady."

Just then, Yuuji came running out of the school's doors — backpack aggressively shaking and threatening to fall off of his little arms — and into your arms, well . . . legs actually. But he demanded to be in your arms.

"Up! Up!"

"Okay, Yuuji." You hoisted him up and he immediately went to bury his face into your neck, calming down from his hyper-ness when he breathed in your perfume.

"How was school, baby?"

"It was so fun! I missed you though." You felt Yuuji frown in your neck.

"Aww, well I'm here now. Let's go home, kay? Then we can make up for the time you missed me, how about that?" You rubbed Yuuji's back.

"Okay!"

Unfortunately for the other boy that was still staring up at you — and now Yuuji, too — he was long forgotten by you. Your full attention now on Yuuji.

When the pink-haired kid is finally in the car, after wrestling to not be strapped down by the seatbelt, he immediately goes to working on an assignment. Strange, you thought, looking back at him through the rear-view mirror. Yuuji hates homework.

This continues when you three get back to the apartment. Yuuji immediately slips off his shoes and takes off to his bedroom, assignment and pencil pouch in hand.

You turn to looked at Sukuna, "I thought he wanted to play first?"

Sukuna shrugged, not knowing what his brother was up to, "He's a weirdo, you know that."

You frowned, "I'm bored."

"I know a way to pass the time."

An hour later, you exit your shared bedroom — planning to start on dinner — just to find notes and drawings all over the apartment. On the floor, in the potted plants, on the coffee table, shoved in crevices on the couch, everywhere.

Picking up a few piece of paper, you find yourself reading:

"Deer Y/N,

You are so nise to me.

You are very good at macking food.

I love you!"

"You are so amazing!"

"I love you so mutch!"

"Y/N is good and nise and prety."

Some drawings even depicted you and Yuuji holding hands.

While eating dinner, you decided to question a very smiley and giggling Yuuji, to find out that he had an assignment to show his appreciation to someone he loved.

Most of the notes were only directed to you, but some of the drawings had Sukuna too. The rest of the evening, Yuuji spent telling you and Sukuna how much he loved you guys. Quietly, and going unnoticed by Yuuji and you, Sukuna reciprocated his brother's affection.

A/N: loosely based on this ask — this was supposed to be wayyyy shorter, but i got a bit carried away

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso

[lovscb97]

tags: park sunghoon x fem!reader, established relationship, size kink, strength kink, bulge kink, d/s dynamics, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (plz don’t), breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink?, nicknames (baby, princess, angel, hoonie, etc), slight fluff, lowkey pwp, reader is described to be shorter than hoon and is easy to pick up/throw around, reader is also very down bad for him (aren’t we all), etc

wc: 2.67k

add. notes: hoon won the poll i put out so i present to u my first ever enha work :3 thank u very much to everyone who voted n this will def not be the last enha fic i put out so do not worry there is much to come for hyung line!!! also icon creds to @/v4mpjay :3

. . . 

sunghoon doesn’t know how much longer he can take this. 

it all started when he began going to the gym regularly, slowly bulking his figure up and feeling himself grow out in his clothes. what used to be his lanky frame that greeted him in the mirror gradually turned into a built man with lean muscles and sharper features, adding to what was already there initially. it wasn’t like this wasn’t what he wanted though, albeit the entire reason why he even started working out in the first place being to improve his health and build better habits for himself, but the outcome wasn’t too bad in itself. he got used to feeling stronger, more lighter on his feet or less out of breath when he climbed the stairs, and it was enjoyable to know that he could lift twice his weight and still feel good as new. in some way, things felt like they were going swell.

that is, until you came into the picture.

now, sunghoon’s always known that you’re small compared to him. even when standing side by side, his height next to yours is a little laughable, though he supposes you’re used to that considering you’ve always been shorter than most of your peers. he’s well aware of how you have to go on your tippy-toes when you guys kiss, and the soft feel of your little hands in his is something that spins in his mind constantly when your fingers lace together. it doesn’t help that you always ask him to fetch your favourite mug from the top cabinet too, his larger physique towering over yours each time he leans over from behind you. he likes to tease you about it, revelling in the way you pout cutely back at him whenever he makes fun of you jokingly despite the small smile playing at your lips, but little do you know about the twisted fantasies breaching his thoughts every moment you spend together. he wonders if you would be disgusted? would you dump him and tell all your friends about what a creepy loser he was? sunghoon can’t help but imagine the worst case scenario, and it would be easy to bury these emotions down the hatchet had it not been for the fact that he’s started to think he is going mad too. 

every time sunghoon comes home from the gym, every time he enters your shared apartment, sweat dripping down his forehead and his water-bottle empty, he swears on his dead grandmother that you start checking him out. it doesn’t help that he's always been attentive either, always needlessly easy at picking up the cues of your discomfort when you're outside in a social space for too long, or being able to tell instantly when you're anything other than the happy go lucky girlfriend he usually sees you as. so, when your lingering gaze begins to trail across his arms a little too long whenever he passes your shared bedroom on his way to the shower, or when your mouth opens and closes to swallow before you're pressing your thighs together subtly each time he moves to wipe himself down each time he’s home— it all sparks something in him. it told him to finally, finally indulge in the nasty thoughts he’s kept tucked away to himself once and for all.

except he doesn’t. because at the end of the day, sunghoon is a gentleman. he pulls open the doors for you with nonchalance written all over him despite his burning ears, and he brings you back your memorised coffee order alongside a few sweet treats when he knows you’re on your period. he holds you close when you’re asleep in bed together, rubbing a gentle thumb against the skin of your cheek because he’s aware that’s what it takes for you to fall asleep, and makes sure you know he’s always going to be there for you in any time of need, even if he’s a thousand miles away. he’s never once made you doubt him, never once given you any reason to suspect he could be anything beyond the perfect, storybook written boyfriend he’s always been. 

until today, at least.

it was a day like any other, a day where you wouldn’t have expected things to take the turn they took at all. you and sunghoon were tangled up in your lavender sheets with your leg thrown over his, the morning sun streaming through the beige curtains you’d picked out on your ikea date together, and no alarms were intact to disturb you as it was the weekend. that’s probably why you both found yourselves in your current situation, your mouths meeting sloppily for short kisses and your boyfriend’s cock buried to the hilt inside you, thrusting ever so gently every other second as he whispered sweet praises to you between the meshing of your lips. the only sounds heard beyond the chirping of the birds outside your window were your soft moans and his low grunts, alongside the quiet noises of your slick dragging against his dick.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good.” sunghoon mumbles, pressing gentle smooches along the skin of your chin and jaw. you reply back something unintelligible, too lost in the euphoria he’s providing you to even form a coherent answer, which only makes him chuckle. he pulls back to admire your figure underneath him, a smile spreading across his lip at the sight of you laid out oh so pretty and pliant just for him. for him. all for his use. his use and his use only. the eventual thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and sunghoon momentarily slows down his movements in fear he’ll accidentally lose control of himself and fuck you into the sheets. his loss of momentum causes you to whine out loud though, large doe eyes blinking up at him in wonder, almost as if asking what happened, which does not make your boyfriend’s job any easier.

“hoonie, faster.” you beg softly, one hand coming up to grip his shoulder as the other bundles up the duvet underneath you. “please, wan’ it so bad.” sunghoon feels like his resolve is on the brink of snapping at your words, and he quickly resumes his previous pace (albeit still slower than what you wanted but better nonetheless) with gritted teeth, trying to think of something, anything that would distract him from the realisation of how fucking small you look under him, or how soft your hand feels resting on his skin. it doesn’t help that the sounds spewing from your lips are so cute, only spurring him on further to do what he longs to. 

“yeah, angel? want it faster? want hoonie to fuck you deeper?” he groans out instead, biting his lip at the sight of you nodding almost instantly to his words. your hole clenches even tighter around him as he speaks to you, and he shudders at the sensation. “shit, don’t do that, princess. might cum too quickly.” he exhales shakily, confused when you shake your head. “don’t care. cum f’me. wanna feel it, please.” you plead almost instantly without thinking, sunghoon’s eyes darkening as the request leaves your mouth. his pace comes to an immediate halt after that, and you make a noise of complaint at the loss of pleasure in your lower region, legs kicking up slightly in protest as you eye your boyfriend who’s currently trying to compose himself above you.

“don’t.. don’t say stuff like that.” sunghoon sighs, eyes closed shut as you cock your head to the side. you’re about to ask him why when he speaks up again. “i won’t be able to hold myself back if you do.” he professes darkly, opening his orbs back up to look deep into yours, his smouldering gaze making you shiver. you involuntary tighten around him at his confession, and he hisses at the feeling, head snapping to look down at you and the blush spreading across your cheeks. 

“i-i don’t.. don’t want you to hold back.” you mutter whilst looking away meekly before he can even comment on your actions. you meet his stare again after a beat of silence, but there’s something dark and sinister swimming in it now, and by the time you can even process what it is, he’s suddenly sheathing himself back into your warm walls, plowing into you with a heightened pace as if this is the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you. your moans tumble out of your mouth before you can even stop them, and you swear you hear sunghoon growl at the way you keen from his movements. 

“yeah? don’t want me to hold back? want me to absolutely destroy this wet cunt with my cock? ruin it for everybody else and mould it to the shape of my dick?” he grunts, a smirk spread across his face as you wildly nod at his words. “what, too fucked out to speak now, baby? where’s that confidence from before, hm?” you whimper at his condescending tone, the noise travelling straight to his core as he curses, continuing to plunge himself deep into you. the tip of his cock brushes against that spongey spot inside you, and you cry out when he angles his thrusts to hit it each time he drives inside your pussy. 

“who knew you were such a slut, huh baby? tell me, how long have you wanted me to spread you open and fuck you like i hated you?” sunghoon pants, tongue lolling out to lick at the sweat gathering on your neck. “s-so long, hoonie!” you mewl in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bites down on your skin. “wanted you to— hnng, wanted you to bend me over and throw me around so bad!” sunghoon laughs breathlessly at your answer. 

“yeah, pretty? want me to use my big arms and toss you onto the bed? you should’ve told me sooner that you were such a whore.” you clench at the degrading name, and sunghoon almost stumbles into you at the sudden jolt of shock. “would’ve done everything you wanted me to. wanted it just as bad as you, did ya know that?” he grits out, pace unrelenting and unforgiving as he proceeds to pound into you. “you’re so fucking small, baby. makes me so goddamn hard every time i think about it. just want to, oh fuck— want to hold you down and make you take it.” 

“do it! do it, hoonie, please do it! make me take it, i wan’ take it for you.” you sob, and sunghoon physically feels the last of his self restrain break in half. he’s far too fucked out now to go back to his old ways, far too gone in the dizziness of making you feel good. his only goal now is to make you cum violently around him, and he’ll stop at nothing to achieve that. “gonna do it, baby. just wait, gonna fuck you so dumb, you’ll be begging me to stop.” he pauses momentarily to grab at the plush of your thigh and tosses your leg over his shoulder, resuming his past actions in the blink of an eye as you cry out at the change. he hits deeper, more harsh this way, and you swear you can feel him battering your cervix with each thrust delivered to your abused cunt.

“fuck, look at that.” sunghoon laughs in disbelief, his eyes fixed on the slightly evident bulge of his cock thrusting in and out of you in your stomach. “taking my cock so well, princess. you gonna cum for me soon, yeah? gonna cum for hoonie and make a mess of me?” he coos at the way you’re drooling, swiping a thumb up to wipe at the spit leaking out of your mouth before sucking it off, the visual of it only making you whine even more. by now, the bed is stained with your leaking arousal, but neither of you care, especially not when he involuntarily moves his hand to press down on your stomach. his movements only cause you to double over in pleasure, and before either of you know it, you’re shaking through an orgasm, thrashing and wailing as tears stream down your face.

“shit, shit, shit! that’s so hot, oh fuck.” sunghoon moans. “you did so well, angel. did so fucking good for me, you deserve a reward, don’t you? don’t you, my baby?” he rambles, and you whine in overstimulation as his thrusts grow more frantic and misplaced when he begins chasing his own release. “get ready, princess, ‘m gonna fill you up. gonna breed you so, so good and make you take it, yeah? you’ll take it, won’t you? take it so good for me like you always do.” by this point, you’re both trembling and whining out loud, sunghoon pistoning his hips into you as he desperately fixes to cum. he can feel the pressure building up, his balls tightening with each harsh thrust he delivers inside of you, and you’re more than ready to feel him ooze out of you, encouraging words spilling from your lips.

“do it, hoonie! do it, please! make me full and fuck it back into me. i’ll take it so good, so good, please baby, please.” you’re babbling by now, too fucked out to think let alone speak, but your words seem to send sunghoon over the edge because by the time you’re even halfway through your sentence, he’s shooting ropes inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. there’s so much of it that it almost leaks out despite his cock keeping you plugged up, and you watch his beautiful face contort in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and eyes clenched shut as he continues filling you up. 

“fuck..” sunghoon sighs out once he’s come down from his high, looking down to grip his cock and pull it out slightly only to push it back in when your cunt gushes with his release, causing him to bite his lip at the sinful sight. you whine when he moves back into you, his large arms caging your smaller frame in as he leans down to pepper salty kisses all over your face. “my good girl.” he whispers, slightly collapsing on top of you to catch his breath. his weight on you feels comforting, almost natural as you wrap your tired arms around his back tightly, pressing your bodies together even more than they already are to feel closer and connected to him.

“i didn’t know you were into that.” sunghoon speaks up after a moment of silence, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. he moves so he’s laying on his side, cock still keeping you plugged up despite the awkward position. “into what?” he deadpans at your reaction, and you giggle. “c’mon, babe. you can’t seriously look like that and expect me to not be feral for you.” you smile, and sunghoon huffs out a laugh, spooning an arm around you as he pulls your body closer to his warm one. “still, who knew my girl was so freaky?” you swat at him, and his chest rumbles with laughter, the sound sending an odd pool of warmth flowing through your chest. you both lay there in silence after that, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the serenity and afterglow which comes from what was quite literally the best sex of your lives. 

“i love you.” you hear sunghoon mumble suddenly, his voice drowsy as he yawns cutely, a large grin spreading on your face at the simple three words which leave him. you reach out for his hand, lacing your small fingers in it before bringing it up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the back. “love you more, hoonie.” you sigh out in satisfaction, eyes slipping shut slowly as sleep welcomes your tired senses.

you gradually drift off, thoughts filled with sweet dreams of your boyfriend and his precious laughter. 

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3