#well the rest of the movie also kept me up

[lonely-dog-draws]

my main takeaways from I Saw the TV Glow:

oh my goqhdbgkwbfxsdkwc

scary moon

[borom1r]

finally knocked The Monster Project off my watchlist and that was… disappointing?

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ early morning moments with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

You’ve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriend’s, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didn’t mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.

“You fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.” You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before he’s interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. “Sorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.”

Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what you’re talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie he’s been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.

The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. “Damn, I was out like a light.”

You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing it’s time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.

He’s still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and you’re still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

“Minho.” You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.

He doesn’t respond so, you try again. “Minho!” this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.

“Minho, are you awake yet?” You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. “No.”

“Oh, okay.” you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. “Sorry.” you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.

“Liar!” You’re nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldn’t help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.

He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

“Binnie.” You’re gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. “My love, I know you’re awake.”

“Then you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.” He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.

“I had a good cause, I promise.” When he doesn’t budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesn’t spill over. “I made breakfast.”

Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobody’s ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?

“I love you.” The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.

Love is the greatest gift he’s ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes you’ll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that you’ll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when you’re both old and grey, impaired taste and all.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You won’t be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.

Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.

Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, you’re awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjin’s eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriend’s other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest. 

“Good morning, love.” He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.

He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, you’re not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.

“Your morning voice is so hot.” Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. “What?”

You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. “Tell me more, baby. What did Chan do?” “He wasn’t even there!” See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldn’t take the hint and finally kiss you again?

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

“I had a dream about you.” Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. “Was I hot?” “You cheated on me.”

He gasps dramatically but doesn’t move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Asshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.” 

You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how he’s been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.

“You were very mean, actually.” Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. “Please let me make it up for you.”

That’s what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each other’s bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and you’re both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.

So, you’re more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.

“Baby,” his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, “wake up, angel.”

You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.

When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what you’re about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.

Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. “Kiss me!” Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. “Not until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.” Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. “I have a surprise!”

Now why didn’t he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesn’t move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features.   

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone. 

That’s why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.

“Your feet are cold.” But Seungmin doesn’t respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldn’t. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since you’ve known him, Seungmin didn’t smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.

You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.

As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.

Jeongin laughs, incredulous. “No way! I’ve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.” He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.

“I’m not complaining.” Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. “I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”

He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didn’t want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like he’d ever admit it out loud.

“What did I say?” He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so you’re face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. “I don’t know, I don’t speak gibberish.”

He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. “You also snore.” “I do not!” 

[ovaryacted]

SECONDHAND SMOKE

─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant f! reader || WC: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: Waiting for Logan back at the X-Mansion, he welcomes you into his arms and enjoys his cigar with you on his lap.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUTTY. Thigh Riding. Dirty Talk. Kissing. Scent Kink. Light Oral (f receiving). Established Relationship. Older! X-Men Logan implied. Age Gap Implied [Logan looks to be in his 40s, Reader is in their 20s]. Reader is a telepath & telekinetic mutant with a human appearance. Telepathic communication. Logan is a tease and a lover boy, he uses multiple terms of endearment. They match each other's freak.

A/N: I've been meaning to upload another Logan fic especially since watching the D&W movie on Friday, and I wanted to share this with y'all. This story is also technically part of a larger idea, but that will be talked about later. I have other things planned for Logan as well for X-Men Logan, old man Logan, and variant Logan. That man is not going to be safe on my watch. Thank you to @ozarkthedog for the proofread and the motivation to keep writing for this man, and shout out to @zloshy for taking part in the aesthetics and the encouragement with the yap sessions. I adore you both. Anywho, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You’ve been waiting for him all day while he was out with the rest of the leading group of X-Men, something regarding a history lesson that needed to be handled. You stayed at the mansion on Xavier’s orders, tending to the younger class of gifted mutants until the veterans arrived by nightfall. To keep yourself occupied, you perused the many books Logan kept on his shelf towards the far end of his bedroom, picking up a well-loved novel from Hemingway to delve into. 

Carefully turning the pages, the wording and storytelling entranced you, each paragraph manifesting into visions that played in your head like a live-action film. Half of your senses remained in the book while the other listened for the familiar creaks of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hallway.

You sensed him before you saw him. Halfway into the book, you lift your head at the sound of the door opening, spotting Logan standing by the threshold of the room’s entryway. Closing the door behind him, he steps towards where you sat on his bed, holding your chin upwards to face him. Bending forward, he placed a soft kiss on your lips, followed by a content sigh that made a smile creep up on your face.

“Hey,” you said, meeting Logan’s softened gaze as he moved away from you to the other side of the room, plopping down on the leather armchair in a heap. He exhaled heavily through his nose, throwing his head back along the edge of the chair. “Long day?”

“The fucking longest,” Logan grumbled, his brow bone creasing before he relaxed.

“I thought you liked hanging out with Scott?” you questioned, the end of your voice trailing off into a playful tease as you sat up on the mattress.

“Sweetheart, that man has a pretentious stick up his ass. You couldn’t pay me to spend time with him.” You laughed at his mild irritation, knowing Logan’s faux vexation towards his friend was a facade to cover his true feelings of fondness.

Reaching for a box of cigars to his right, Logan clipped the cap off a fresh one and popped it between his lips, holding it by his teeth. He glanced at you, the corner of his lips curling up in a mischievous grin.

“Come here, you gotta light this for me.”

With a smile, you obliged, quickly rising on your feet and striding to where he sat in the chair, swinging your legs around to situate yourself over his denim-clad lap. Straightening your back, your eyes briefly flashed black as you materialized the metal lighter from its place on the bookshelf before Logan, flicking the spark wheel until the red flame brightened his chin. The foot end of the cigar sizzled as it burnt to ash, the familiar scent of finely aged tobacco filled your nose as he drew in his first breath.

“Sneaky.” He mumbled around the cigar, taking a harsh pull of air before curling his fingers to hold it, huffing the smoke out on the next exhale.

“I call it being efficient.” You grinned to yourself, accepting the reciprocated hum rumbling through Logan’s broad chest. Your fingers skimmed his collarbones that peeked through the white tank under his flannel, admiring the bob of his throat and the steady rise of his body whenever he breathed.

“What were you up to in here? Snooping through my shit?” His sight darted to the burgundy button-down you wore, ending right at the top of your bare thighs. He brought his free hand to caress your leg, running circles over your skin and feeling you shiver slightly under him. “I was looking for this shirt last week, you know?”

“First off, this was gifted to me,” you stated with a roll of your eyes, smacking Logan across the chest and forcing a dry chuckle out of him. “And secondly, I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Hmm, so you’re saying you missed me?”

“Surprisingly, I did.” You sneaked your other hand towards Logan’s neck, curling your fingers around the thick hair at his nape. He almost purred at the touch, smoking his cigar and looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Besides, it’s nice and quiet here. You also gave me permission to be here for your information.” 

Since dating Logan, it has been a slow start to accomplishing milestones for either of you, taking things one step at a time to avoid scaring the other off. Now that things have been good between you, he gave you free reign to be in his bedroom at the mansion, usually spending the day here for some solace or sleeping in his bed instead of yours on the other side of the estate. On a mental note, he intended to make your presence in his life more permanent.

“Damn, I forgot I gave you permission to take my stuff,” Logan quipped, somehow becoming more cocky than he usually was. You loved him for it either way.

Asshole. Although you didn’t verbally say the word, he heard your voice in his mind, taking the telepathic route. His smirk widened as he took another drag of his cigar, the smoke heavy in the air as it circled the two of you.

“All yours, darlin’.” He offered you a wink, squeezing your thigh with his other hand to keep you in place, seated on his thick thighs.

You spent a few minutes talking to him, giving him a rundown of your relatively calm day and mentioning the book you read earlier. It was oddly domestic, something that most mutants would not be able to partake in, and Logan silently thanked whoever granted him the opportunity to experience it.

A comfortable silence occupied the room once Logan was halfway down his cigar. Enjoying his company, you nuzzled into his neck, taking in his natural scent. A mix of pinewood and leather filled your senses, musky and so clearly him, your belly twitched at the warmth of his body against yours. Absentmindedly, you began to litter kisses over his skin, placing a few more along the base of his throat and moving upwards to the corner of his jaw. He could smell the shift in your behavior; arousal mixing in with the lingering haze heightened his senses, and his attention was directed back to you.

“Need something?” His voice dropped an octave as he asked you, running lines up and down your leg, the sensation making you squirm.

“Need you, smartass.” Holding his face, you kissed him on the cheek and once more on the tip of his nose, reaching his lips along the way. His eyes closed at the touch, wanting nothing more than to feel the caress of your tongue and sink his teeth into your bottom lip. 

“I want you too, but I’m on my smoke break.” You were ready to pout at him before Logan adjusted your positioning, shifting you more off to the side so your pelvis sat on one of his thighs. The thickness of the denim covering the hard muscle of his leg rubbed against your underwear, a moan settling in the back of your throat at the contact.

“Get yourself off while I finish this. Promise, it’ll be worth it, hun.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, knowing what he was asking for, yet your cheeks warmed under his stare. He merely shrugged, raising an eyebrow and patiently waiting for your next move.

Doubtfully, you pivoted your hips forward, dragging yourself across the vast expanse of his thigh before drawing backward. The first few passes felt strange, but you quickly found your rhythm, rocking your hips in even thrusts. The material of his jeans rubbed just right against your panties; the thin fabric that separated your body from his added more friction to your sensitive clit. Your lower spine grew warm with Logan’s free hand idly holding your waist, calmly guiding your movements over him until he was confident you got it handled.

Logan leans back into the chair and plants his feet on the floor, giving you more leverage to work with. His keen eyes take in the way you flutter yours shut, eyebrows furrowing in concentration at getting the perfect angle and drive. He can hear your heart beating in your ribcage and can feel the pumping of your blood flowing through your veins to rush between your legs.

Muffled moans pour out of you, gripping the fabric of Logan’s shirt and tilting forward a bit more, digging your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. The secondhand smoke from his cigar amplified the incessant throbbing down South, a second pulse that pounded through your body with a need clawing at your gut. The motion of your hips grew more persistent as your slick seeped into your panties, known to Logan when his nostrils flared to catch your scent in the air.

“Feeling good, princess?” You heard his voice filtering through the light mess of your thoughts, focusing on making yourself feel good under his orders. You hummed against his neck, nodding and keeping your even pacing as you leaned into his muscular body.

“Yeah, I know it’s good. Bet your pussy is just crying for me now, probably tastes just as sweet too.” Logan’s vulgar mouth only motivated you to grind your hips harder against his leg, reminiscent of a bitch in heat the more you moved over him.

There was something erotic about getting yourself off while Logan observed and enjoyed his smoke. To him, you were quality entertainment, a sight for sore eyes after a hectic day full of learning things he was trying to retain. Your mind grew clouded, full of the many ways Logan handled you, things like this that kept you on your toes the way he knew how. Flashbacks of this morning flickered before your eyes, reminiscing the feel of his tongue slipping inside you and his bicep tucked under your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Logan could picture it too, traces of your daydreams passing by in his head, instances where he made you feel so good you had nothing left to give. He wonders how wet you are, could taste your cunt on the back of his tongue, missing it since he left you with a weary grin on your face as you slept in his bed. He hopes you stained the worn denim that separated the two of you and prays that you leave your mark on him, no matter how temporary.

“Getting close?” he asked. He didn’t hear you respond, but your voice remained floating in the confines of his skull.

Yes. Fuck yes. So close. Fuck me. Fuck me. Please.

“I will sugar, promise I will.” His hand ran up the curve of your spine and gently curled around your neck, pulling you backward to hold his gaze. Your glossed-over pupils dilated at the sight of him, irises darkening and filling with ink. The embodiment of your powers made him curious at first, with blackened eyes at the indication of specific actions, but he quickly got used to seeing the signs every time he made you fall over the edge.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Make a mess on my jeans, and I swear I’ll treat your pussy the way she deserves, the way she needs. Let me feel it.”

Logan. Logan. Logan.

“Fuuuck…” You whined under your breath, doing three more harsh passes over his thigh before your body abruptly tensed, legs shaking and pressing into his hard body as the wave slammed over you. Mind clear and body lax, you hummed against Logan’s throat, pulse thumping against your lips as you placed a light kiss.

He took one last pull of his cigar before smudging it into the ashtray on the end table to his left, ideally saving whatever was left of it for after he fucks you. Wrapping his thick arms around you, he brings you closer to him, pulling your hips over his to hover over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Need something?” you taunted, parroting his earlier words with equal tone and sarcasm.

“Yeah. Need to clean up the mess you made.”

Crashing into your lips, he kissed you deeply for the first time that night, curling his tongue around yours in affectionate swirls and releasing an audible groan. Holding you close, he stood up on his feet and picked you up with ease, strolling towards the bed in three strides. Lighthearted giggles tumbled out of you, making Logan’s heart beat in tandem with yours. The sides of his face creased as he mimicked your smile, tugging hastily at your sodden underwear and tossing them to the side. Rough fingers curled around the soft flesh of your thigh, parting your legs to admire his handiwork as he heard your voice in his head again.

Greedy.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” As if to prove your point, he licked a broad stripe up the length of your cunt, your wetness coating his tongue as he placed a complimentary kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves, re-igniting the fire he started.

 “Now be good and let your old man have a taste.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

it's been a year since i lied to you and told you that yes ive moved on so can we please be friends again. can you really blame me? i thought getting good at suppressing our memories from that one month meant moving on. i didn't know that i would feel a lump in my throat when you called me suddenly in the middle of a sunday even tho the plan was to talk once a week and we had talked only 3 days before. i didn't know i would feel butterflies in my stomach when i heard your laugh so close to my ear, but can you really blame me for being reminded of you giggling talking about the logistics of kissing on your study table?

but it's been another year since we've talked on the phone. those memories are so distant and blurry and full of light and happiness that i can't even believe they happened to me, it feels like they happened to a different person. so you don't have to worry, because ive moved on now.

remember when i used to tell you that i miss you so much i can't think about anything else, that i spend all my day reading our old chats? and you used to say, you need to stop and there are other people in the world? well, you don't have to worry about feeling uncomfortable now. i passed the exam i failed because i was too heartbroken over you. i go to tuitions and then i go to internship and i come home so late that all i do is eat and sleep. ive been doing better these days.

and you were right, there are other people in the world. but do you know, i asked a girl to come watch barbie with me, and she made a disgusted expression and said she'd already watched it and she hated it? this happened after we shared a coffee and realising we live next to each other and finding out that she watches kdramas and i listen to kpop. so surprising isn't it? someone who probably understands toxic masculinity and gender roles are fucked up still has internalised misogyny in her? nobody can compare to you, you lecturing me about feminism in tenth standard and your little book club with assigned reading as a thousand splendid suns and you having tears in your eyes showing us harry styles with pride flags in his concerts and you being mean and blunt saying i need to talk about my internalised homophobia. im starting to think you were one in a million and i was a fool to lose you, and an even bigger fool to have had you back and then lose you again.

but do you understand now? you told me you didn't, two years ago. i asked you, don't you understand that i was going crazy dealing with my psychotic family and i was depressed and tired and couldn't talk? and you said no, you're sorry, you really don't, you don't understand how someone can not share why they're sad to the person they supposedly love the most in the world. as i was writing this, daylight by taylor swift started playing. ironic, isn't it? there are many memories ive tried to erase from that one month, but this one i cannot forget- me coming into your room the night we planned and asking you if you're sure about this and is this like an experiment thing a oh what's kissing like thing or is it a we're in love with each other thing, and you smiling softly and saying girl yes i am sure it is one hundred percent a we're in love thing.

ive been getting better at sharing my sadness with my loved ones. my parents haven't stopped fighting, my dad shouted at my mom today morning because my brother lost the car keys, but it's okay, ive learned to tune it out. he only lives here for half a month, he stays somewhere else the other half so it's been easier to bear. my sister moved out, finally. ive been sad because of it but i know she's obviously happier there so it's okay. we have a neighbor and they have this tiny tiny annoying si kid she always comes to her house after her mom scolded her to sulk and watch tv with us. how is your little sister doing? i think of her when our neighbor devil comes. and how is your mom doing? are they settling in well to the new city? and how are you doing? have you been okay? we don't have to be exes trying to be friends again. but can't we just be childhood friends (if age 15 was childhood) who drifted apart briefly but found their way back to each other? please?

but it's okay, if we can't. cause like i said, ive moved on.

[waughymommy]

Diaper Discipline Guide

Emma & Henry

My boyfriend of 4 years has always had regressive and sub tendencies while I’ve wanted to talk more control in our relationship. We tried several bdsm activities including smacking and bondage but the occasional nature wasn’t really doing it for me.

After finding out more online about Female Led Relationships I came across DD, initially dismissing it. But the more I read, the better and better the idea appealed to me. After some planning I decided to confront my partner and say I wanted to add an element of control and domination into our relationship, by saying I hadn’t decided how to do it yet we had a long discussion without diapers being mentioned where he agreed in principle to “lifestyle dominance” as long as it could be kept between them and not impact his job, friends, etc. 

This guide was invaluable to me to plan the rest and it solidified my decision. It took me two weeks to discreetly buy the required supplies, getting them delivered to our apartment on days he was at work. I decided that I wanted a high initial level of DD where he’d be in diapers 24/7 at home.

I decided to start on a Friday night after work. He’d known that I had been preparing for something and I started the conversation by saying my proposal was weird, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be painful/harmful and nobody else would find out but you wanted him to agree to try it for at least 6 weeks.

Although nervous he also seemed excited by the prospect and agreed. We moved to the bedroom where I told him to get undressed before I diapered him for the first time. There was a lot of objections at this stage but I talked him round and the agreement to try it for 6 weeks was helpful.

To make the shock less I started with a medical diaper which wasn’t too thick and let him wear his normal pjs over it. I left him to explore it on his own while going to make dinner. After dinner it was time to tell him all the rules, the main one was that the toilet at home was now banned and he’d be in diapers whenever he’s at home. I kept the baby elements to a minimum and said he’s have to also wear out the house sometimes but I’d make sure nobody could tell and never when he’s at work or with friends/family. I’m not going to lie and say this didn’t involve an argument, especially when he realised that no toilet meant #2 as well but we got through. We ended up watching a movie which was a good way for him to calm down.

He wet his diaper for the first time after the movie which was funny to watch as he was so nervous it was going to leak everywhere. Even though it wasn’t too wet I did change him straight away and made his change extra special too. That night he slept in a diaper for the first time.

Over the first weekend he did get more used to wearing and I allowed him to use the toilet for a bm on Saturday. Sunday however I decided to fully enforce the rules and he messed himself for the first time. I didn’t change him this time and he took a shower. There was a lot of protests again but I said it was none-negotiable. The smell did seem to be the biggest thing that bothered him so I bought some Devrom tablets which had been recommended, it took a few days for them to arrive and a few more of taking them but now his messy diapers hardly smell and the protests have stopped. I’d actually recommend you use these from day 1 to make the transition easier.

The first week was tough but we got through it and I’m happy to say we’re now 7 months in to him being in DD. Over that time I’ve moved to thicker abdl diapers, he wears onesies regularly around the house and the toilet has remained unused by him with only a few exceptions.

We both work mainly from home so I’ve gotten used to checking and changing his diaper but thick diapers + devrom has meant he generally only needs a change after waking up, sometime in the early afternoon and before bed. I’ll also let him change himself if I’m busy or cba. 

The best news is after an initial rocky patch, our relationship feels stronger than ever! He proposed to me 5 months in and I can’t see his DD ending any time soon. I’ve increased elements overtime and now the toilet is banned even when out of the house together. Public wearing did take him a while to get used to but actually it’s easy. 

I’m sure DD is not for everyone and is much more involved and hard work than other lifestyle changes but for creating a caring bond between you and your partner I’ve found it to be great!

[fireinmoonshot]

the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!

“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.

Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.

“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”

They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”

“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”

It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts. 

You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.

He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.

“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.

With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”

Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.

“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.

Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”

You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”

“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.

By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder. 

“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”

You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate. 

“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”

Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”

“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”

He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”

“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”

From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.

“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”

You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased. 

“Ty?”

He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”

“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”

Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”

The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research. 

You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised. 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”

“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”

Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”

Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”

“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”

He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”

You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder. 

“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot. 

“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.

You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.

You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others. 

“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.

It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”

Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.” 

You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing. 

“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.” 

“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”

You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on. 

It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck. 

He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.

“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.

You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.

“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries. 

But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.

The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you. 

“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.

Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.

When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.

You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”

You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.

“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”

You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.” 

“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”

Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.

Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”

You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door. 

“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”

You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore. 

Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”

“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.” 

You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange. 

“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.

Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”

You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”

You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself. 

It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.

“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”

You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.

“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”

“I wasn’t flirting–”

“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”

You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”

For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide. 

“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.

You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.

He frowns. “Why is that?”

You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”

As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are. 

“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.

You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”

Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before. 

“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.

You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.   

“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain. 

“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes. 

You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”

Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”

“You’d do that?”

He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”

“And what you said over the radio this morning?”

“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”

Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”

You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.

“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.

Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”

You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”

“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”

[bunnys-kisses]

the music sounds better with you

max verstappen - team principal au

cw: smut/pwp, team principal!max, driver!reader, power dynamic, age gap (20s/40s), jealous!max, drunk!reader, drinking & recreational drug use, stern!max, spanking/punishments, dirty talk & degradation

a/n: the hotline is open for requests in this universe, i'd love to hear your thoughts & feelings <3

the thump of the club had you a little dizzy. it was hard to get around on heels. you were used to the sneakers you wore around the track. you never never a "girls-girl" in the sense that you dressed in restrictive clothing. but, since you were out at the club with a few of the other drivers, you had to put a little more effort into your appearance.

you and your teammate managed to sneak in the new driver from ferrari. he was the son of charles leclerc and turning eighteen in two months. your teammate nudged you to show off a little more of your skin to get the new driver in. as you pouted at the bouncer you said, "c'mon, sir. let us in." and who was about to say no to the number one driver in the world.

it wasn't long before your night was filled with recreational substance abuse. you kept feeling the young leclerc drinks and laughing when the younger boy sputtered from the intense taste of hard liquor. even when your teammate went home, you were still drinking with the rookie.

and without thinking, you texted your boss, max verstappen.

you explained, "don't worry, he's really cool. like really, really cool. you know he let me drive his boat a little!".

the boy looked at you and nodded dumbly, 'that's crazy, what the fuck." then rested his head back against the bar counter. you sent a text to max and gave your location.

"please come pick me up sir! i'm really drunk!!!! i need you to come here like now!! take me home pleaseeeeeee <33333"

max was home alone when he got the message, he was watching a movie after dinner. you sent a few more messages with horrible spelling errors, and max knew that he couldn't leave you to your devices to find an uber. so he was quickly dressed and out the door.

he soon pulled up to the club, he quickly got out of the car to wait for you. you sounded painfully drunk in your initial text and the ones that followed after. as he rested against the car he looked over to see if he could find you. instead he saw an unlikely face.

"charles?"

the other man turned to look at him and broke into a grin, "max, how are you, mate?" he went over to hug the other man, "what are you doing here?"

"here to pick up my driver."

"the girl?"

"yeah."

charles nodded, "the one who got my son drunk." he gave max a look when the other man's expression fell.

"she did what?" max felt something in his chest. while your teammate he had little reason to care for what he did (he was a one year contract), he had higher expectations for you. and to find out that you got the new driver of formula one, who was underage, drunk. it didn't sit well with the older man.

charles leaned up against max's car, "i get a text message from him that he's at a bar that your driver snuck him into... and now he's sick."

max made a face, "i'll speak to her about that." then gave his best smile to his long time rival and friend.

charles made a snide remark, "well if the press is right, you'll be doing a lot more than just talking to her." he looked forward towards the bar, "just be careful, max."

max nodded. he sensed no judgement from charles and rolled his shoulders, "always am, mate." then saw you stumble out of the bar. you had charle's son's arm draped over your shoulders.

you were both painfully drunk, while you kept the young man steady you also had to keep yourself steady. "alright, alright. we're almost there." you looked out and saw max standing there. you made a slight face, "hey, mister verstappen! and... friend!" from the distance you couldn't tell who it was.

charles laughed, "does she call you that in bed too."

max felt his ears burn, "shut up." then pulled away from the car to go help you. charles did the same. the team principal got a hold of you while charles did his son. max held you steady to make you look at the other pair, "what do you say to charles?" max's arm was around you and your hand was in his t-shirt, swaying a little.

you pouted a little, there was a slight sway to your stance, "i'm sorry, mister leclerc... sorry for getting your son plastered." you look like you were going to cry. charles understood why max kept you around. a wobbly bottom lip and doe eyes can go a long way.

charles smiled, "well, if he throws up in the car. i'll just send the cleaning bill to your lovely boss." max made another face and watched his friend leave with his son in tow.

the older dutchman got a hold of you better and got you into the car. he got a good look at your panties when the skirt of your dress lifted. he buckled you in and roughly patted your cheek. he said, "you've been a bad girl."

you whined when he closed the door like an unruly little girl. max knew he a stern talking to wasn't going to do much. so when he got into the driver's seat and started the car. he put it into drive and placed a hand on your thigh.

"i have no words."

"oh like you've never gotten anyone drunk." you tried to defend yourself.

max's grip on your thigh tightened, "well, i didn't get the son of a famous driver drunk when he was underage. then have to go crying to my team principal because i had one too many drinks."

you pouted, "who else was i going to call? it's not like i have a boyfriend! you won't let me date." you crossed your arms.

"you'll lose focus. plus, there's no man in monaco worthy of you." in reality max wanted you all to himself. he was selfish that way, he let too many women throughout the years get lost because of his drive to race. so why not find a woman who was in racing so max could have his cake and eat it too. it also didn't help that max was pulled to you.

his little protege. drunk in his car while he held onto you tightly. you weren't getting away that easily. back at his apartment, he helped you inside and you so easily held onto him.

"i'm sorry, mister verstappen." you said as you gripped the front of his t-shirt. you could feel the muscle under your fingers. your cheek pressed against him while he held you.

"a little too late to say sorry. what if someone got the wrong idea. city's full of bad men who would do horrible things to you. they'd hurt you. and i don't want you to get hurt." he said with a sense of tenderness, "so i need to teach you how to be good for me. you want to be number one, right?"

you nodded, "i do."

he took you out of the elevator and into his home. you kicked off your heels, only to put them nicely by the door when max gave you a look. you weren't going to make a mess of his home. he soon got a hold of you and lifted you. you kicked out your legs. you weren't the skinniest or smallest thing on the track, but max grabbed you with ease and got you over the arm of the couch, you kicked out your legs as he started to undress you.

"mister verstappen!" you cried out.

"good girls get to luxury of clothes. you seem to have forgotten that." he said, his voice almost cold as his large hands palmed your exposed ass cheeks. he groped them in the hopes of bruising them.

"i'm sorry."

"sorry is not going to cut it, my little driver."

you pouted with your face pressed against the leather, it felt cool for a brief moment under your skin, but soon warmed because of the heat in your body. "you don't do this to him."

your teammate. the snobby brit who always tried to get the upper hand with you, to steal max's attention away from you. you yelped when you felt max's hand across your ass in a hard smack that echoed through the living room.

"why would i? he behaves. he listens both on the radio and out in public. he doesn't need to be trained like you." your teammate came from a family that could flash a little money max's way to get him onto the team.

max didn't care, the british driver wasn't who max wanted to make into the perfect driver. he was a seat filler. you on the other hand clawed our way from your small town in the middle of nowhere to become the best. so max felt inclined to make that dream of yours a reality. your teammate would be gone by the end of the season while you'll have the championship with pride.

max laid down the law with you. smacks across your round ass left you whining and wet. he could see the hint of your wetness smeared across your pussy lips from the angle he had you at. you were always a glutton for punishment. someone didn't have a good relationship with their daddy. you yelped once more while your short nails dug into the fabric of the couch.

"you need to be good. you know there are cameras everywhere." he said before he smacked your ass once more. he could feel himself strained in his jeans. he was certain someone took some kind of video of you at the club, "if you want to act like a whore on camera, then i can easily make a tape with you." he leaned over you as he grabbed at the heated, bruised skin, "would you like that? having my camera in your face while i make you finish over and over again."

he heard your moaned and he chuckled. he shook his head before he was upright with his clothed cock against your bare cunt, "you'd love that, dirty girl. imagine if that got leaked? imagine if the whole world saw how you take me. they'd think i was a monster for taking advantage of such a sweet thing. little do they know." he started to undo his belt and grabbed you by the arms. it forced your face first onto the couch as he bound your wrists behind your back, "that you're just a little whore. begging for your team principal's cock."

"m..max." you whimpered. it felt weird saying his name. you were painfully drunk. both off of too many cranberry/vodka's and lust. max knew how to get in your head. that's why you two made a good team, he could reinforce you when you were hesitant on the track. but, he could also use it to his sick sexual advantage.

you were bound over the couch, your hips in the air. perfect for max to get his cock out of his expensive calvin klein jeans and rubbed up against your slick, hot pussy. he watched you squirm a little and it made him run warm. always so responsive.

he sank his cock into you without much introduction. he watched your squirm from the stretch. by now, with how many times max had fucked you, you should've been able to take him easier. he chalked it up to you needing more training in that department. maybe at the next event for the team, he'd keep you nice and full of a toy so at the end of the night you wouldn't be causing a scene with how much he stretched your poor pussy out.

he held onto the belt that was secured around your wrist and fucked you without much softness. he needed to get into your drunk little head that you needed to behave. you had to be good for him. for the team. he can't have a source of controversy on his team, as much as he loved fucking you.

it would be a real shame to have to cut your contract short and you probably won't find another seat on the grid (max would make sure of that), but max wouldn't send you back to your little town. you'd just be in a different role. someone a little more exclusive. mrs. max verstappen. the little lick of pleasure in the back of his head. the fantasy that coursed through his head while he was deep inside of you.

"please, sir." you arched your back a little further and whined into the covers. you felt the heat of pleasure i the back of your head. you wanted to claw into the couch, but he kept your wrists pinned. even with the stretch of the muscles, you were forced to be bound. you felt the heat pool in your gut the more he fucked you.

he thrusts were dominating, there was little way for you to gain the upper hand. even if your squirmed or cried, big fat tears down your face, it wouldn't make a difference. this was punishment. max set guidelines for what he expected from a protege, and if you didn't follow them. then, well, there was consequences. he knew you were young and a little dumb, but you weren't the stupidest thing on the grid. you had promise and max wanted to expose that to the world.

but you'd only expose your cunt to him. your contract and the metaphorical leash to your collar were in his hands. was he not the best? you could see some of the trophies in the room where he was fucking you. your bruised ass bounced against his hips. he was a rich champion, he had a legacy that blew most out the water.

he was your boss and mentor, and you had the audacity to not listen to him. thankfully max wasn't one to give up. he could never give up on you. maybe it was love, or max's idea of love. a bound little driver getting her poor cervix bruised as punishment for getting so drunk.

he leaned over you, the angle got deeper and you gasped, he kissed your sweaty temple, "see, this is how you should be."

"i thought i had to be mean on the track."

he kissed you once more, feeling your heated skin under his lips, "of course, my little driver. my treasure. you run them off the fucking track if you have to. but when you're with me, i like when you're gentle. a beautiful little thing under me." his pace picked up and it made you go dizzy for a moment.

"a good girl?"

"exactly." see you're already becoming behaved." he knew that your wrists were being rubbed raw to the point of bruising because of the belt around them. you looked so pretty in a state of bondage.

bound and submissive to him. this was what he yearned for. what he craved for at the sight of you. you were beyond beautiful, even when you drove his nerves up the wall. he pushed you further against the couch and fucked you with an intensity that left you loud.

while he couldn't indulge in his appreciation for your noises very often, when he could. he wanted to hear his little driver get loud. his heart raced as he felt close to his climax. you felt the same way, you tried to meet his pace, but it was bruising to the point where you felt nothing in between your ears.

your poor little brain had enough and left the building. rationality was a thing a few hours ago, but now you were panting like a hungry puppy against the hot leather of the couch. your tongue could taste the leather of the seat.

back arched, pussy ruined. you really did look like the model driver. you whimpered a little louder, unable to form many words. you could feel the race in your gut and the twist in the area.

"perfect." he said, one way to train you was to fuck you into a soft submission. to finish inside of you so many times that you couldn't think straight.

he continued to fuck you, losing the pace rather quickly as the need to climax started to overtake. you felt the heat in your gut bloom into your brain as you struggled against the binds. but your beloved boss kept you down onto the couch and continued to fuck you feverishly.

you were near brain dead by the time you felt the hold of orgasm clutch you. you moaned loudly and tensed up. you climaxed around his cock and arched your back a little more. your noises were pathetic, but music to max's ears. he pressed into your further, his hands on your hips for the best leverage.

the poor little drunk driver fucked to heaven and back by her intimidating boss. it was hot, max thought it would make a good porno plot (he knew it existed, he checked. the woman they got to play you couldn't hold a candle to your beauty). he shoved every last inch of his cock into you with a heavy groan. he came inside of you and felt the heat in his brain.

he stayed there for a moment, cock buried into you. not really caring that he just finished inside of you, completely bare. you made a few more noises before max pulled away and got his cock back into his jeans. your wetness stained the front of the denim.

he undid you wrists and got you upright. you whimpered and leaned against him. he kept a protective hold on you, "alright, my love." he said, "let's get you into bed before you cause any more trouble."

when he finally got you into bed, you remained naked. the alcohol and pleasure made you run hot. and max took it upon himself to snap a few pictures of your bruised behind and soft, sleepy expression. that would be saved for when he can't get his hands on you.

-

you woke up in the morning with a headache and a dry mouth. the sun that gleamed in through the blinds made everything hurt more. when you lifted your head, you noticed that max wasn't in bed with you. you were wrapped up in the sheets and whined loudly.

you heard footsteps and were soon greeted by your boss in the doorway. his arms crossed. you squinted at him and said, "everything hurts."

max replied, "you act like you've never been hungover before." he sat on the edge of the bed and pinched your cheek till you whined, "i hope you know that your punishment isn't over. we have all day to put you back on the right path. you're a driver, have some respect for yourself." you whined again.

"you're a meanie, mister verstappen."

"i know, but i told you i'd make you a superstar. and that means behaving. i'll make you some breakfast, but today you'll be learning how to behave. i'll even be nice and let you kneel on a pillow while we go over your recent driving blunders."

you squirmed a little in bed. you hated when he did that. made you sit there and watch your races, but it was only fair. mister verstappen promised you the wdc, and you weren't going to get that by getting black out drunk, were you? max verstappen, head of verstappen racing, may be mean to you. but you'd be his champion in no time at all. <3

[twilightkitkat]

HEAR ME OUTTTTT YALL

Logan's bones are made of metal, right? And while adamantium is a fictional element, metals tend to follow a set of properties.

One primary property is that the majority of metals are conductors. This is reinforced in The Wolverine movie wherein the adamantium sword conducts heat extremely well to be able to cut off Logan's claws.

Therefore, Logan's bones are conductors (for both heat and electricity).

Most human bones (like Wade's) are insulators. This makes bones more resistant to electricity as compared to the rest of the human body, which is an electrical conductor because it's composed of water and ions.

I know the dark matter is different, but from how we see it flow through the veins and transfer we can assume it's conducted as well.

THEREFORE, THE REASON LOGAN WAS ABLE TO ALMOST INSTANTLY FORGE THE CONNECTION WAS BECAUSE HIS BONES CONDUCTED THE ELECTRICITY EASILY. AND IT WOULD ALSO MEAN THAT HIS PAIN WOULD BE SIGNIFICANTLY WORSE THAN WADE'S. BECAUSE HE LITERALLY FEELS IT RUNNING THROUGH HIS BONES, JITTERING HIS VERY SKELETON?? BUT HE STILL KEPT HOLDING ON JUST TO SAVE WADE.

Also, this means that his bones would retain heat. If he sits in front of the fire and gets heated up, he'd feel it in his bones. This means the human heater headcanons are 100% true, because he'd literally be hot metal wrapping around Wade if he's kept warm.

Inversely, however, this would mean his bones become cold due to a lack of heat. Metal oftentimes expands in hot conditions and contracts in cold conditions (which is why they leave gaps between train tracks to accommodate for this without them breaking).

So Logan would 100% get aches with cold weather because even if his body was more resistant, he can feel the chill in his bones and how they don't sit quite right and everything is too stiff and doesn't fit. (And Wade would need to heat him up instead because of this.)

Plus his thermal regulation would be compromised because it seeps into his bones instead of just his flesh. Imagine you get in front of a fan and your skin feels cool but your bones are hot. Logan would be temperature-sensitive, but he'd try to hide it because he's used to it (having lived in the mountains for years) and doesn't know what to do. (And so when Wade comes along and cares and tries to help him regulate, he nearly chokes up because it's so much easier to cope.)

[murdrdocs]

she’s driving me crazy

description. STILES STILINSKI finally gets another chance with you, and he won’t take it for granted

includes. SMUT 18+, riding, car sex, fem!reader, protective p n v, lots of making out, loser!stiles, awkward stiles, bi!stiles, exes getting back together, slightly manipulative reader, reader has easily malleable hair, reader wears makeup, drinking (but no drunk intercourse), bickering, scott guest appearance

wc. 6k+

a/n: long awaited stiles fic. bestie boo this one's for u. title from confidence by ocean alley. art credits unknown.

Stiles knows he fucked up. 

He had you, after almost a full year of tortuous pining, and he let you slip through his hands. All of it, your relationship with Stiles, really didn’t last more than two months. Two months where date nights were rain checked and eventually canceled. Sleepovers were lackluster, and nothing more than a movie playing in the back while Stiles worked over something that wouldn’t rest in his brain, leaving you alone in the center of his unmade bed. Promises were made, and never kept. It was a mess, a horrible, murky mess of Stiles’ own creation. 

He knows this. But he still allows himself to mourn what could have been. He grieves what was. All while nursing a warm beer that doesn’t sit well in his stomach, mostly because of the sight he has been doomed to acknowledge—also his own doing as he could definitely turn his gaze elsewhere. 

You’re tucked under the arm of some guy who looks nothing like Stiles, and he doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse. Is that your dream guy? Or are you forcing yourself to branch out and try something that wasn’t him? He tries to resist the spiral that sends him on, and is only able to start crawling out of the self-deprecating and insecurity tunnel through Scott’s voice beside him. 

“What’re you staring at?” 

Scott reeks of alcohol and fruit-flavored syrup. If he wasn’t a werewolf, Stiles knows his best friend would be unable to stand straight by now. But Scott stands like his usual self next to Stiles, a big grin on his face probably from the attention he’s been getting from Kira. (It was sickening for Stiles to watch but he forced himself to be happy for the strong relationship his best friend has.)

Stiles’ immediate instinct is to lie. “Nothing.” He says it a little too fast. He tries to cover his slip up by taking a sip of his beer, but the flavor is unappealing to the point where the face of disgust he presents makes him look more guilty than he really is. 

Scott stares at Stiles, waiting. Stiles knows he won’t lie to Scott, not about something this small anyway, and it is only a matter of a few seconds before Stiles sighs. 

“Look,” he points at you and your suitor. “Don’t you think he’s making her uncomfortable? Look at that. He’s all over her. Probably reeks of Axe body spray.”

It’s then that the guy cracks another joke, your head throwing back in laughter just before you rest your ear against his chest. It’s so affectionate. As if you’ve known this guy for years, and not just mere minutes. 

Stiles flicks his eyes over to Scott, expecting to see his best friend analyzing the situation with at least a small amount of attention that Stiles is. Instead, Scott is looking over at Stiles, wearing what Stiles can only describe as a knowing smirk on his lips. 

Stiles steps back, a little bewildered. “What?” 

Scott, annoyingly, shrugs. He sips his drink, one he has solely for taste as Stiles knows, and only responds once he’s taken a long, slow swallow. 

“She seems fine to me. I thought you guys were broken up anyway.” 

“We are!” 

“Then why do you care so much?” 

Stiles can’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. He turns to face you and your human shaped bag of bricks once again, gesturing for Scott to do the same. His mouth opens, lips parted and tongue ready to spew out the analytics he’d been gathering this entire time in lieu of an excuse. 

Then Scott interrupts. 

“Do you want me to see what’s going on?” Scott throws a finger up towards his ear, one eyebrow lifted as he waits for Stiles to gather the implications and then make a decision. 

It takes Stiles longer to complete the latter than the former. 

He waits, thinks, looks at you and the guy. And then remembers the strict ‘no listening’ rule you all have set in place, the one he most definitely won’t betray in the name of jealousy, even if you aren’t particularly aware of all of the intricacies. 

When he sighs, it’s defeated and with his entire body. He knows he’s pouting, he assumes he resembles his teenage self—mopey and brooding. He doesn’t mean to speak through gritted teeth, but he ends up doing it anyway. 

“No. She’s probably … fine. I guess.” It hurts to admit, deep in Stiles' jealousy-filled gut. Scott’s way of comforting him is by clapping a hand on his shoulder, and telling him that you’re a grown adult who is allowed to make her own decisions, the same as him. 

Scott’s intentions aren’t understood until he points at someone in the opposite direction of you. A guy who, from the looks of it, has been eyeing Stiles for a while. He’s Stiles’ type. Exactly his type, actually, and Scott knows this. 

“Instead of sulking around …” Scott doesn’t need to finish his sentence in order for Stiles to understand. He only lingers for a few seconds, and then is pulled back towards the larger group by Kira’s eyes and grin. 

The guy on the other side of the bar is still watching Stiles. He’s smiling a small but confident smile, like he knows Stiles wants him as much as he wants Stiles. He tilts his head in a beckon, and Stiles is close to letting the guy pull him over there. Until he sees you step away from the man, smile dismissively up to him, and start towards Stiles instead. 

Instantly, it’s like a flip has been switched. 

He starts to feel the effects of the alcohol, even though he’d been nursing the same bottle the entire night. Still, he chooses to attribute the buzz flowing throughout his body to the overpriced beer and not excitement of finally having your attention. 

He watches your path, trying not to feel too disappointed as he takes notice of the way you’re struggling to walk in a straight line. 

You fall into his arms in a fit of giggles. Your head resting on his chest, your hands circling around his back. 

“Stiles,” you sing, long and drawn out and definitely drunk.  

He repeats your name in the same tune, placing his drink onto a tabletop next to him and abandoning it for good. Keeping you away from self destruction is his new main priority. 

You slump against him even more, turning yourself around and leaning back against his body. Your position leaves Stiles with nothing else to do other than stand stiffly. He knows that if you were sober, you wouldn’t be nearly as affectionate as you are now. He ignores the way your ass brushes against his crotch. He ignores the smell of your perfume wafting up to him, a scent he had the privilege of seeing you apply a few times before when you were dating. (The image of you getting ready for the day, lathering yourself in the oils and lotions and scents that worked to create your unique scent will never leave his brain, for better or for worse.)

He does his best to remain unaffected, but then you tilt your head up, the crown of your hair rubbing against Stiles’ shirt as you look at him. As soon as he glances down, he sees you pouting, clearly over exaggerated but it’s a look he, pathetically, will never be able to resist. 

“Why won’t you touch me?” You manage to sound pitiful, as if you had lost every single thing you hold dear to your heart in the last couple of minutes. 

In his response, he tries to remain neutral. Drunk or not, you know the game you’re playing, and Stiles foolishly believes that his knowledge of the ploy makes him insusceptible. 

“Because you’re drunk,” he platonically rests his hands on your shoulders and encourages you off of him. “And we aren’t together anymore.” 

You turn around to face him, grinning up at him like the cat with the canary as you tell him, “it didn’t stop us last time, right?”

That, and the way you almost throw yourself at some guy walking past, is enough reason for Stiles to link his hand in yours and pull you towards the others. Scott stares down at your interlinked palms for only a moment before Stiles explains his plan, which entails getting you back to your apartment before you do something you could regret. 

This isn’t an excuse for Stiles to continue hanging out with you. He makes sure he clarifies that to himself and his best friend before he’s pulling you out of the bar and towards his Jeep.

You’re both less than ten steps away from the entrance to the bar when you suddenly have your lips pressed to Stiles’. 

There is a moment where Stiles fails to resist. Where he reciprocates quicker than his brain can realize, acting on pure instinct and muscle memory instead of logic. He is unable to stop himself from getting comfortable, from linking this kiss to the last one he’d received from you. Hotter and messier than this one. (Lost in his appreciation to finally be kissing you again, Stiles fails to notice how you don’t taste like alcohol at all)

Only a few more seconds pass before Stiles reminds himself that you’re drunk, and that this is wrong. When he pulls away from your lips—regretfully, that is—he’s tempted into staying by the slight stickiness of your lipgloss and the almost-disgusting string of saliva that briefly keeps you two sewn together. 

You try to lean back in, but Stiles stops you with his hands on your shoulders. 

“You’re drunk,” he reminds you. 

You’re fixing him with a look, one that feels strong and weirdly sober. His suspicions have more proof to back them up when you say his name with the same matter-of-fact tone he had just used on you. 

“I’m not drunk.” 

He scrunches his eyebrows together, the muscles in his face mimicking the movement as well. His lips part as he nonverbally exclaims his confusion. He lifts one of his hands from your shoulder to hook his thumb towards the bar entrance. He looks around, for nothing or no one in particular, but as if the night will have an explanation that you would surely be willing to provide if he asks. 

He didn’t even need to ask before you provide an explanation. It’s cut and dry, matter-of-fact, spoken like it is the most casual thing in the world. 

“I faked being drunk so you could take me home.” 

Stiles knows what you mean. He’s not dumb. But he surely does feel it when he says, “If you didn’t feel well you could’ve just told Lydia. She would’ve taken you back to yours.” 

You roll your eyes. “If you don’t wanna sleep with me, that’s fine. Just let me know before I waste my time.” 

Stiles should stand up for himself. He should reprimand your attitude, and exclaim how unnecessary it was. Instead, he flounders and almost falls to your feet with the speed he clarifies himself. 

“No. I do wanna sleep with you. Like, really bad. But … um … well,” you lift your eyebrows and Stiles clears his throat. “How many fingers am I holding up.” 

“Jesus, fuck, Stiles.” He continues holding up his first three fingers on his right hand until you answer. “Three.” 

You lean in but Stiles takes a step back. And then another. And then another, until he’s standing against the wall of the bar and you’re standing at the edge of the sidewalk. 

“Walk in a straight line towards me.” 

You don’t seem happy about it, but you place one foot in front of the other over and over again until you’re in front of Stiles. Nothing more has to be said before Stiles places his hands on your hips, pulls you flush to him, and finally allows himself to kiss you. 

It’s been a while since Stiles had the privilege of kissing you. The last time, just a month ago, didn’t count in his mind. Sure, he remembered nearly every detail, but your shared inebriated state at the time overruled any legitimacy the encounter could have held. Now, it only acts as a reminder and motivator for Stiles to enjoy every moment of this that he can. 

Eventually, it would be smart, and preferable, to leave the outside of the bar and actually take you home where you two could be alone. But for now, Stiles presses his hands into the middle of your back as a way to pull you as close to him as possible. He has his legs spread, creating space for your limbs to stagger. Your hands rest on his shoulders, then at the back of his neck, then in his hair. Both of you are attempting to get as close to the other as possible, all while engaging in the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had. You both kissed cleaner when you were drunk. 

Now, outside this bar with your closest friends inside, and with nothing but the night (and the bouncer) as witness, you submit to the other. There is a level of appreciation in the way your lips slide together. There is a level of gratitude in the presses of your tongues against each other. There is an exorbitant amount of longing that is solved each time you jerk your hips into Stiles and each time he reciprocates. 

You thread your hands through Stiles’ hair the same time that he slides his hands down to your ass and squeezes, pulling you as close to him as possible and rubbing his thigh against the center seam of your jeans. You both groan into each other's mouths—Stiles from the way you tug just right on his hair, and you from the feeling of his leg between yours. 

Sensing—knowing that he did something right, something good, Stiles does it again. And again. And again. The steady slide of his thigh between your legs does the job. You let your head fall, leaning the top of it against Stiles’ chest just right under his sternum. 

The sound of you moaning Stiles’ name goes straight to his dick, with a few remnants traveling to his head, leaving him dizzy and with a steady growing semi. His actions make you grip his hair stronger. His actions indirectly cause pleasure for him, too. 

It all disappears when the sound of spitting—loud and boisterous, almost cartoonish—breaks up the moment. Stiles stops his movements. He lays his hands flat on the back pockets of your jeans as he turns his head to the side. 

The eyes of the bouncer meet Stiles and Stiles’ ears burn. 

While the bouncer doesn’t say anything to him, Stiles knows the message he’s trying to communicate. 

Get the fuck out of here. 

Stiles is forced to push you back by hooking his fingers in your belt loops. He’s still touching you, at least an extension of you, but then your hands drop to your sides and Stiles can feel his body crying out for you. The same way his body calls out for vital needs—food, water, sleep, entertainment. He squashes his emotions for a second, plasters on a—truthfully sympathetic—face, one that comes off more as a tight lipped smile than anything else. 

“Sorry, man. You — uh. You have a goodnight.” He throws a hand up to the bouncer, hoping it is received as friendly. When the bouncer returns the gesture, still with that same look in his eyes, Stiles heads down the street and pulls you with him. 

The walk to the car is tortuous. His boner keeps rubbing against his jeans, leaving him to stop every few paces, face away from the street, and try to adjust himself. After the third time, you were voicing your frustration, claiming that it was taking forever to reach the car because of Stiles’ worry about who could see his erection. He tries things your way, ignoring the way his dick calls for his attention and instead focusing all of his attention on you. 

The way your hips sway in your tight jeans. The way the wind blows your perfume to him and lifts the edge of your shirt in one, giving Stiles a peek of your skin. It’s such a small look, nothing more than a glimpse, and Stiles feels like a Victorian man the way he’s having to bite his fist at the next crosswalk to avoid groaning. The street lights illuminate your face in just the right ways, highlighting your makeup in an unnaturally ethereal way. Everything about you is driving Stiles crazy. There’s no way he’s going to make it to your house. If he doesn’t get to his car soon, he might pull you into the next bar bathroom that he could find just for a semblance of privacy. 

If he could just get to his Jeep. 

It’s then that Stiles realizes he’s been walking for far too long. He stops in the center of the sidewalk. You stop right beside him. 

Stiles doesn’t say anything as he turns around and leads you three blocks down the street, one street over, and then into the parking garage elevator. 

The way you’re grinning at him alerts Stiles of the words soon to come out of your mouth, definitely words that would be at his expense. He stops you while you’re ahead. 

It’s nice to have the position switched. Your back against the wall instead of his. His hands are still on your hips, but he uses them to push you into the metal instead of pulling you into him. You have that part covered, your arms once more thrown over his shoulders, pressed into the back of his neck and head, drawing him in until the pressure of his lips against yours is a little painful. 

In the rush neither of you have pushed the button, leaving the elevator stagnant on the ground floor. Stiles notices at the same time that you scratch his scalp. He moans, he really can’t help it. His mouth opens as you purse your lips again, and he feels a little bad but you aren’t deterred. In fact, you do it again, your nails scratching in just the right spot and Stiles feels like an animal the way he shudders and keens. 

He’s more human when he admits, “Missed this.” He presses his lips to yours again, pulling back with a smack. “Missed you.” 

Your lips slide against his with what Stiles can only describe as desperation. Pure, unadulterated desperation and desire. You’re breathing a little heavy, deep exhales through your nose and inhales in the in between moments, and it doesn’t turn Stiles off at all. He wants more of you. He takes more of you. 

He doesn’t know how long you two are in there, but it is eventually you who pulls back first, your lips visibly swollen and lacking any of the makeup that was previously on it. 

“Has the elevator been moving at all?” You could check for yourself. Just one look over Stiles’ shoulder and you could see that the small screen still displayed a digital ‘1’. Yet, you’re looking up at him instead. Like Stiles is the most important thing in the elevator. Like he’s the most important thing in the world to you. (Maybe it’s Stiles’ delusion talking, but he chooses to believe it either way)

Still, Stiles looks over his shoulder, confirms that he hadn’t hit the button at all, and leans back to correct his mistakes. 

The elevator beeps twice, bringing you both to the third floor, and as much as Stiles’ wants to continue standing there and just admire you, he can hear the door daring to slide close. Again, he pulls you out behind him. 

As soon as he turns the corner, Stiles is immediately made aware of the lack of other cars on the level. It’s a little eerie, and if he wasn’t about to get his dick wet he would possibly be on the lookout for potential threats that could turn one of the best moments of his life into another inconvenience. 

Your hands are on his shoulders, his back, his arms, as you hold onto him. 

“Why did you park all alone? Did you plan this? Were you trying to get in my pants all night?” 

Stiles digs into the front pocket of his jeans and searches for his keys. “No. There were other people parked here earlier. They’re just all gone now.” 

You hum unconvincingly. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Stiles.” 

As soon as Stiles has the passenger door unlocked, he holds the door open for you and stares, hoping the annoyance is overpowering every other feeling he’s currently having towards you. 

“In the back,” he tells you. You smile up at him, big and entertained, and then do as he says. 

He climbs in right behind you. At this point in the night, there was no point in attempting to get back to your apartment or his. Stiles couldn’t wait much longer, and you two are no stranger to the back of his Jeep. You’ve been in this situation before. 

It’s all completely effortless. You’re already in the process of slipping your jeans off whenever Stiles has the door closed. He mourns for just a second, pouting to himself over not being the one to take those sinful jeans off of you. But then you climb over his lap, situating yourself to hover just a bit above him. 

Stiles plants his hands on your hips, just like he did before, and pulls you to sit right over him, just like you have before. He knows that the status of your relationship has changed since the last time he had the privilege of being in this space with you like this, but that doesn’t mean the way you do things has to change, too. 

You were never shy before. You would always be quick to attach yourself to Stiles in whatever ways you could, just like you had been doing just a little earlier into the night. But that’s gone now. Now, you’re staring at him, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip. 

Before you were together for a short time, Stiles had spent months pining. Months analyzing whatever he could about you. Months mentally cataloging your tells. And now, he calls on that information to declare that you’re hesitant. You’re nervous. No, not just nervous. You’re worried. Almost regretful. 

He tilts his head. “What’s wrong?” 

You shrug but Stiles knows you’re aware of what has you like this. He just gives you the time to voice it. 

Eventually, you say: “Will this change anything between us?” 

It’s his turn to shrug. “I dunno. Do you want anything to change?” 

You shrug again. 

“Well … do you want to keep going? And we decide that afterwards?” Stiles really wants to fuck you, but deep down he knows that if you stopped and got up off of him in this moment, he would be okay with it. Well, he would be okay with it after a few days. Maybe a week or two. 

A little part in him swells, jumps, and clicks its heels when you nod. 

“Yeah. That sounds good.” You press your lips to his once. 

“You just tell me when you decide, okay? I’m cool with whatever you’re cool with.” And Stiles means that. If he gets just one more time with you, if this is his final time with you, he would cut his losses and be grateful for the time that he was allowed. What else was he supposed to do? He would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize his spot in your life. 

Stiles can feel the warmth of your center is his hand when he trails his touch down. He cups your mound and his eyes flutter shut. He feels like a pervert for only a second before you start to work your lips down his neck and rock your hips into his hand. The way your mouth suctions around his favorite spot almost has him distracted enough to not notice your hands working on his pants. Almost. 

He can’t really tell in the dark, but he can slightly feel your once confident movements start to falter. You stop on his neck, keeping your lips as nothing but a pucker against his skin before you pull away completely to look down between the two of you. 

“When the fuck did you start wearing a belt?” 

Stiles doesn’t want to tell you the truth, he feels like it would be too embarrassing. Really, he knows it wouldn’t, but something about having to tell you that he decided to wear a belt because you always said he should makes him feel a little meek. So instead of filling the silence with the truth, he fills the silence with the clinks of his belt buckle as he undos it himself. 

“Recently,” is all he tells you when you’re still staring at him for a response. Somehow, it’s enough for you and your hands are back on his waistband. 

In record speed, your hands are down the elastic of his boxers and wrapping around Stiles’ cock. He doesn’t hiss, but he does shudder. He tries to hide it by pretending that the car is cold, which it was beforehand, but now it’s warm. It becomes warmer when you spit in your hand, wrap it around Stiles’ cock and pump him a few times, and then push your underwear to the side and hover above him. 

It really pains Stiles to stop you, but he does. He asks if you have a condom, then he asks if you want to use a condom, and the entire time he’s kicking himself. Because he can feel the warmth radiating. He has his tip already nudged between your folds, and just this small touch is already making him lose it. His nails are digging into your hips, he’s breathing harder than he was before, and he has to blink a few times to really focus on you. 

It feels like Stiles blinks and suddenly you’re tearing the foil packet open and slipping the condom over him. He watches it go down as best as he can, and the light doesn’t reveal much. Just the bottom of you and the tip of him is visible, the rest Stiles is forced to make out through squints and memorization. 

He’s just briefly dejected about the lack of visuals, but then your hands rest on his shoulders and he hears you take a breath and he knows it’s time. 

Stiles rests his hands on your side and looks up at you. 

You go down slowly. Softly. It allows Stiles to feel each delicious inch as they go by, revealing more and more of the inside of you as time passes. He battles between watching your face and simply basking in it. Eventually, he settles on the former. 

Your eyebrows are tightened just enough to show your discomfort. You have your lips parted, long breaths leaving them every so often, usually right before you sink down again. And Stiles has seen you take him before. He knows that you have been able to take him faster than this before. And then he wonders: is this your first time doing this, with anyone, in a while? Have you been as lost without him as he has been without you? Have you even attempted to fill that hole, and was your stunt earlier tonight just that: a stunt?

There isn’t time for him to ponder over his questions like he would have wanted to whenever you bottom out. It’s with a sigh, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his just briefly. 

You rest your forehead against his, and you both breathe together. Or, it’s more so you breathing and Stiles matching the pattern. 

You lean up, you move your hair out of your face, and you tell him, “Don’t remember it being this hard.” 

Slightly cocky, Stiles tilts his head.  At first he doesn’t say anything. He smiles, his eyes are heavy when they look you up and down, and then he rubs your back. “Take your time.” 

You take the time you need and then you start moving. Up and down. Up and down. Agonizingly slowly at first, and then faster when you get more comfortable. 

This is what Stiles has needed. This is what he has been missing in his life. You’re like a drug for him, and one hit seems like enough at the time, but by the time this is all over he knows he’s going to be searching for more. He’ll do anything he has to, so long as it gets him in a spot similar to this again. 

He searches for your hand, refusing to look away from the way your body moves atop of him for even a second. You help him out, bringing your hand to his, pressing the fingertips together, leaving Stiles to interlock them. He lifts your hands, looking at them in the white light that enters the foggy window. Somehow, this image is even more captivating. There is a more pornographic way the two of you are connected, one that demands Stiles’ attention. There is something about the innocence of this. He’s doing nothing but holding your hand, and Stiles feels like he might either lose his mind, or cum too quickly. 

He might do both. One after the other. 

You sink down on him again, a little awkwardly this time, but it does it for you. You hit a spot that makes your mouth widen and your eyes flutter shut. You search for it, and find it miraculously. Your head throws back as you hit that spot over and over again, pleasing yourself on Stiles’ dick. The image is heavenly for him. It’s euphoric. 

He lets his eyes wander down your neck, along your clavicle, and your shirt reveals just a bit of your bust but it’s not enough. With his free hand, he pulls the rest of the fabric down, and when he sees that you’re not wearing a bra, he almost cums into the condom then and there. He doesn’t wonder how he hadn’t noticed, he doesn't consider how he hadn’t taken into account the natural shape of your breasts pushing through the fabric, almost reaching out to him. Instead, he leans forward, presses his hand into the curve of your back, and attaches his mouth to the untouched skin. 

Your free hand sinks into Stiles’ hair. Your fingers weave through the back of his hair first, and then you make your way up to the front, pushing back his bangs blindly. 

Stiles peers up at you from his spot around your nipples. You’re still in ecstasy—your head now level once more, but your mouth still open and your eyes still closed. 

He detaches from your nipple to tell you: “Look at me.” 

It fuels Stiles’ ego when you do as told quickly. 

You’re looking at him on his command yet Stiles feels like he’s the one entranced. Because of your eyes. Fuck, your eyes. Watery, lazy, but your pupils are dilated. Your mascara has transferred to under your eyes by now, and it’s smudged a bit, making you look completely fucked out. Stiles thinks some of your makeup along your face has disappeared too, but it allows for a fresh skinned appearance instead. 

Really, there is nothing else for him to do except kiss you. It’s so messy but so good. You flatter in your movements on his cock, but Stiles feels absolutely no remorse when he takes over. 

He unlocks your hands and plants them both on your hips again. This time, he uses the leverage to pull you down on him again and again. He lets you lead the kiss, while he leads this. 

Your hands land on the leather of the seat behind Stiles' back and the foggy glass pane of the window. He hears your fingertips glide down the surface as he starts to fuck you harder, and then the sound is combined with your moans when your lips separate from Stiles’. 

You call his name, low and breathy. 

He hums. 

“‘m so close. Keep going. Just like that.” He nods. Then you add, “Little faster.” And he does as told. 

Your forehead pressed against his, the sweat on both of your skin making your heads glide more than anticipated. It doesn’t deter either of you. When your nose bumps against Stiles’, he kisses you again. When your head becomes too heavy for you to hold it up, he presses his thumb under your jaw, rests his fingers on the side of your neck, and holds the weight for you. 

“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, adding your name at the end to seal the deal. “Baby,” he says, and his heart swells when you hum in response. So he says it again. “Baby, you feel so good. Feel so good, babe.” 

He doesn’t know what more he says. He can vaguely recognize his lips forming the words and his own voice in his ears calling you the prettiest girl ever, telling you that he could never get this anywhere else, telling you he never wanted to get this from anywhere else. 

“Needed this so bad. I needed you so bad. I’ve missed you.” And just as his words finish, yours begin. 

“Stiles, Stiles. Right there. ‘m … I’m…!” 

He singles two fingers out, slips them between your thighs, and rubs along your clit until you’re shaking above him and holding onto his wrist between your bodies. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away, but watching you cum is too gorgeous for him to ever dream of making it stop. 

So he doesn’t. 

Not even when your eyes start to leak and your lips start to plead and you contract around him. 

“One more,” he asks. “I just need to see it one more time. Please.” 

The sound of him moving in and out of you is loud. He drifts his eyes down to watch it happen, groaning when he just barely sees a broken ring of white glinting in the fluorescents from the parking garage. 

It feels a little romantic when you cum and then Stiles follows right after. 

The Jeep is warm, the windows are foggy, and there’s an ache in Stiles’ thighs. He knows for every one of his aches, you have three. The condom has been removed, tied, and disposed of in an old paper bag Stiles had sitting on the floor of his car. His pants are pulled back up, but his belt is still undone. His shirt sticks to his skin and he really needs greasy food and a shower. 

But if that means leaving this moment, and never returning to it, he could put off his needs and wants for an eternity. 

You’re sitting next to him, redressed with the button of your jeans still undone. You’re staring straight ahead, trying to catch your breath as you rub the muscles in your thighs. 

Stiles doesn’t know what to say, so he licks his lips and he says, “Uh … do you … um. Would you like some … ice or something? For your legs?” 

You smile ahead, turn to face him, and shake your head. “It’ll be fine. Nothing a shower and good sleep won’t fix.” You pause. “And maybe some food.” 

Which is how Stiles ends up sitting in your bed, sipping the remnants of his Dr. Pepper as he watches you lather lotion on your legs with your towel still hanging off of your body. 

“Your food’s cold,” he tells you. He doesn’t tell you about the handful of fries he stole earlier, but he knows you’ll notice it and hold the grudge for later. 

Later. Will there be a ‘later’? 

“Be there in a second.” You start to walk back to the bathroom. “Should we go to that place in the morning? Or …” you look at your clock and wince at the time. “Later. The one with the really good pancakes?” 

Stiles is quick to agree. He would love to do something with you later. 

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Can you do a Tom blyth x reader where in a interview , the interviewer asks him if he wants to marry and have kids in the future and he answers that he already has a daughter with the reader and after few days he posts on Instagram a photo of his daughter playing in the grass when he was filming the movie nad the fans going crazy ( about how cute she is and smth like that )

My Girl || Tom Blyth x Actress!reader

A/n: baby fever right now is astronomically high 😭😭 also this song is my absolute fav and feels like it matches with this so def go listen to it!!!

Warnings: none :)

Wc:

Divider by @pommecita

“Tom, your fans have been asking if you plan on marrying and having children in the future,” Tom nods his head, a smile forming on his lips, “What can you say to them?” The interviewer directs her mic to Tom.

He could feel your eyes burning into the side of his face as his grip on your waist squeezes. “Marrying and having children?” Tom repeats. You watch in anticipation as you give him an encouraging smile. The two of you had been waiting for a moment like this.

It’s been three years since you gave birth to your daughter, Elsie, three years since Tom became a dad. The public had no idea whatsoever and you intended to keep it the way for a few years longer. Well, after a long conversation with Tom, it was time to stop hiding from the public.

“This is the first time I’ve actually spoken about this to the public but I have a daughter already,” His words make the women holding the mic gasp out loud as you both let out a chuckle at her reaction. “I know, shocking right!” Tom smiles.

“You have a daughter Tom? With….” She trails off as her eyes move to you. Tom pulls you to his chest as you give the woman a grin, nodding your head as she puts her hand on her chest and lets out another gasp. “Am I the first to know about this outside your close circles?” She asks.

“Yes! We’ve thought long and hard about releasing such private information but we decided it’s time we tell everyone. We can’t hide this forever,” You say as Tom watches you and nods. “Well there we have it! Tom Blyth and Y/n Y/l/n have a child together!” The interview says to the camera as you wave her goodbye and move along with the other cast members.

“That felt good,” You look up at Tom, happy to get it out. “It sure did, darling” He rubs your arm as the two of you take pictures for the paparazzi. Safe to say, that interview was blowing up.

Fans had mixed reactions to the news. Some were incredibly happy for the two of you, and some were utterly shocked at the news and were surprised at how the two of you kept this information on the low.

As you and Tom were doing the world promo tour with the rest of the cast members, there was always a question that popped up relating to your daughter, Elsie.

“Tom, Y/n! I think the internet is in shock to learn that you are parents to a three year old daughter, am I correct?” The man infront of you says as you both nod. “Yes! Our daughter’s name is Elsie, and we had a feeling this would shock fans quite a bit,” You quietly chuckle to yourself.

“It definitely has! How did you two pull this off? You know, not making fans suspect anything?” He asks as Tom replies, “Uh I think it was just mainly being super private about our personal lives. We both don’t share such information like that which lets us live peacefully without cameras following us around.”

“And you’ve done a wonderful job at that since we never knew about your three year old daughter,” He smiles as Tom thanks him, “Can you tell us more about Elsie? If you can?” He politely asks as you nod. “Of course. Well uh Elsie is very much a daddy’s girl,” You all chuckle as Tom holds your knee affectionately.

“She loves the outdoor so much, that’s where she wants to be most of the time.” Tom adds. “And how was it that you found out that you were going to be a dad, Tom?“

“Yes, so Y/n told me she was pregnant on my birthday in February I think it was?” He looks at you in confirmation as you nod, “It was actually during my auditioning progress for Billy the Kid. So when I got the role and started filming mid to late 2021, Elsie was already born”

“We were both 25 at the time and we felt like we were ready to you know, move onto the next chapter of our lives. I remember for my birthday, Y/n’s present to me was this baby onesie that said ‘daddy’s girl’” The man awes as Tom reminisces the moment.

“I was so shocked and happy that I started crying,” He laughs, “Correction, we started to cry,” You butt in with a small giggle. “I do have to mention, Y/n! You went through your pregnancy without the public even noticing! How in the world did you manage that as a public figure.

“It wasn’t hard, but at the same time it sort of was,” You let out a low chuckle as Tom rubs your thigh, listening to you talk. “I didn’t have any roles booked for that year so I just stayed on the low. I did what any other typical people did when they didn’t want others to notice your pregnancy which was to wear baggy clothes, covering my stomach and stuff like that.”

“I also made sure that people wouldn’t be able to recognise me when I was out in public and it worked very well.” “It did indeed. I think everyone wants to know, how’s life with a three year old daughter while filming. Was Elsie with the two of you went you filmed tbosas?”

“Yes she was actually! Everyone on set knew that we hadn’t said anything to the public about our daughter and they were such wonderful people and respected that. My mom also was with us to take care of Elsie when we weren’t able to.” “I don’t know how we would have lasted all those months without her honestly. She made everyone on set laugh, I actually think the cast members will start posting pictures of bts with Elsie now that we’ve released this information” Tom laughs as his mind goes back to all the time the crew would laugh at Elsie’s cuteness.

~

“You posted a picture on your instagram a couple days ago of you and your daughter, can you tell us a little bit of background information of this picture?” “Is this the one of you and Elsie in the forest?” You turn your head to Tom as he nods. “Yes! So that was the last day we filmed all the scenes in the forest. We’ve already said this I think but our daughter absolutely loves nature.”

“During takes she would just play around and I remember this one time, We were going through a scene and then Elsie just came up to me and clung around my leg while the cameras were rolling, do you remember that?” Tom grins at you as you recall the moment.

“I do, I have a video of it in my camera roll, it made everyone awe at her.” You let out a giggle as the interviewer smiles at the two of you. “It seems to me that the crew was pretty close to Elsie? Am I right in saying that?” You nod in agreement with her.

“We felt incredibly grateful of how everyone was so kind and supportive of the idea of Elsie being with us during the entirety of the filming process. The cast members would always be playing with her during our takes, and Elsie grew very fond of all of them.”

“Especially Viola actually!” Tom interjects as the interviewer gasps, “Really?” “Yes! Viola is such a sweetheart I honestly love her so much. Even when she was in her costume and she kinda looked terrifying, Elsie would always run up to her after the cameras stop rolling.” He chuckles.

The two of you honestly loved talking about Elsie during all your interviews. Your face would always hurt from smiling too much when you reminisce all the moments of your daughter during filming.

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ cuddling with RIIZE

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre fluff pairing bf!riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

Shotaro had spent the entire day out, as he had been rehearsing all day. You had the day off, so you stayed at home, enjoying some time to yourself. When Shotaro got home, you were already in bed, half asleep, as it was past dinnertime when he arrived.

While you were lying on your side, you felt his arms wrap around you, his body pressing against yours. His head rested on your shoulder, and you opened your eyes slightly.

"Did you just get home, baby? How was rehearsal? Did you have dinner...? Do you want me to make you something? I can…"

"Shhh... Don’t worry, I just want to hold you for a bit. I'll eat something later. You can go back to sleep, honey."

He whispered near your ear as he pulled you closer, caressing your hips while both of you closed your eyes. It felt so good to be in his arms that you quickly drifted back to sleep.

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

It had been a really long day. Well, not just a day, but an entire week. It was Friday, and you had worked more hours than usual that week. You hardly had any time to rest, and you hadn’t even had the chance to see Eunseok, so you were really looking forward to spending Friday night with him.

When you arrived at his place, Eunseok greeted you with open arms and a smile, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. Still hugging, he led you to the sofa, where you both lay down. He knew perfectly well how exhausted you were, so he kept holding you, covering both of you with a blanket.

“It’s been tough, hasn’t it, princess?” he whispered, gently stroking your hair.

Your faces were only a few inches apart as you looked at each other. After a few seconds, you rested your head on his chest while he continued to stroke your hair, putting on a gameplay video on the TV.

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

You and Sungchan were training at the gym. It was quite late at night, which was your favorite time to go since there were usually very few people, but that day, the gym was completely empty.

When Sungchan finished his last set, he walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

"Sungchan, I’m all sweaty..."

"So what? I am too. I don’t care, I need to recharge."

He said, resting his head on top of yours, closing his eyes a bit. You smiled, looking at him through the mirror, gently caressing his arms as he tightened his grip on you. You leaned your head against his arms, continuing to stroke him, feeling him relax too much.

"Sungchan, you're going to fall asleep."

Hearing you, he opened his eyes, which looked a little tired, and glanced at you, confused.

"Let’s go home, baby, your caresses have relaxed me too much..."

ᯓ★ WONBIN

You had lunch plans with Wonbin, and you went to a sushi restaurant you both loved. After eating, you had planned to visit a beautiful park you had recently found, but suddenly the sky filled with clouds, and it started raining heavily.

Wonbin didn’t want your date to end there, so he suggested heading back to his place to watch a movie. Once you arrived, you noticed that Wonbin couldn’t stop yawning. You knew he had had a tiring week, so it wasn’t surprising that he was exhausted.

“How about we take a nap?”

Wonbin’s eyes lit up when he heard you, and in less than a second, both of you were lying in bed. Wonbin loved cuddling with you, resting his head on your chest, as his favorite thing was when you stroked his hair.

And that’s what you did. While he gently ran his fingers over your stomach, hugging you, you slowly stroked his hair, just the way he liked it. He fell asleep faster than you expected, which you found so adorable that you considered taking a picture.

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

Seunghan loved being cuddled up with you. He loved being physically close to you at any moment, in any place. He just loved having you in his arms. It reassured him to know you were safe and with him.

You also loved how Seunghan held you, always leaving kisses on your cheeks and looking at you with that cat-like smile you adored.

But there was one particular cuddling moment that was your favorite, and he couldn’t deny it. It was the aftercare moment. Sometimes you thought Seunghan was too sweet to be real. He always made sure you were okay and comfortable, staying wrapped around you for as long as you needed.

He loved softly caressing your body, leaving kisses on your neck and fixing your hair. He could spend hours looking at you and telling you how beautiful you were and how much he loved you. But he always ended up falling asleep after making sure you were comfortable and well.

ᯓ★ SOHEE

You and Sohee both loved video games, but what you loved more was playing video games together. Recently, you had bought a two-player multiplayer story mode game for the PlayStation, and you both had become hooked.

But it wasn’t just playing games with your boyfriend that you enjoyed, it was the way you played together. It’s worth mentioning that Sohee wasn’t usually very touchy most of the time, but when you were playing video games, he always let you sit between his legs while he hugged you.

You loved lying with your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around you, it was so comfortable. And every time you cleared a level, he’d plant a kiss on your cheek with a big smile, which you found incredibly sweet.

ᯓ★ ANTON

Cuddling with Anton was like a dream. Everyone knew how tall Anton was, but you really felt how big his torso was whenever you hugged him or he hugged you.

It wasn’t uncommon for Anton to be hugging you, as he loved physical contact, especially with you. Most of the time when you were together, Anton would be giving you a back hug while you played with his hands.

But you had a favorite cuddling moment with Anton. It usually happened when you got home after dinner and spent the night together. Tired, Anton would always lie down on the bed, and when you saw him, you’d lie down on top of him. His arms would always wrap around your entire back, pressing you against his body while you both smiled at each other.

You would often stay like that for a while, playing with his hair or gently stroking his face as you talked or shared a few kisses before resting your head on his chest.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

@enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - PROM

A/N: As I already mentioned, I have developed a huuuuuge crush on Wolverine.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: smut

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 6600+

Important note: The reader has long hair, did my best to not describe her at all. ALSO, I know Wolverine is like 160cm but... I forgot about tha that so, he's a tall MF. (They kinda fucked that up in some of the movies, so whatever.)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett - Prom

A peaceful evening, that’s what he wanted. Once the students were in their room, Logan could finally have some time off with a bottle of beer that he was able to sneak into the school. And since he knew no one would be in the lounge room at this hour, he grabbed the beer and walked there. To his surprise, he was met with Y/N sitting there. 

She was surrounded by papers. It seemed she was grading some essays. He observed her. The way her body hunched over the papers, how her head was low, he knew she was almost asleep. But then her head fell a little and she made a sound. Shaking it, she whispered “shit” under her nose and continued to work on the essays. 

“Go to bed,” Logan said when he fell on the leather couch. 

Y/N’s head lifted, frowning at her colleague and friend sitting there as if he owned the whole damn place. “I need to finish this tonight.”

“You need to rest,” he talked back, annoyed by her stubbornness. 

Her eyes followed his every move. The way he sipped the beer, how relaxed he was on the couch and his eyes kept checking out the papers all over the place. “No, I need to grade. Only a few more left.” 

Y/N taught English and literature in the school. She wanted to have this out of her neck before she would give them another assignment - that is, if someone would piss her off again, like the last time.

“Need any help?” he offered. 

She kinked a brow and grinned. “Have you read The Great Gatsby?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then, unfortunately, you cannot help,” she said with a teasing smile. 

“So, what did the kids do to deserve to write an essay?” he asked. His eyes never stopped following her hands over the table as she went through all the papers. 

She sighed and put a grade C on the essay she finished correcting. Then she put down a comment, for the student to know what they did wrong. “One of them was rude to me. He made an inappropriate comment and the class laughed at his boldness, or as I’d like to call it, stupidity. He got detention and the whole class had to write an essay.” 

Logan chuckled. “You are strict.” 

“Well, no offence, but the kids respect you out of fear. They don’t respect me and so I punish them like this,” I glanced at him with a smile and put one of the last essays in front of me. “2500 words is not that much, to be honest. Especially when the theme is: Gender roles in The Great Gatsby.”

He opened his mouth to comment on it but then closed it. “Fair enough.” 

Y/N yawned again and rubbed her eyes. She put down the pen and stretched on the couch. “Alright, a little break won’t hurt me. Just a few minutes.”

“You will fall asleep.”

“No, I won’t,” she said with her eyes closed. 

“Yeah, you will, Y/N. Don’t argue with me. I know you well,” Logan said grumpily. He knew he was right. 

Sighing, she stood up and did more stretching, just to wake up a little. “Now, I won’t.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed at how stubborn she was, again. “Hey, is it true that Colossus is taking you to the prom?” 

Y/N stopped moving and slowly turned her attention to him. What the hell was he talking about? “What?” she was confused. “What prom? And no?”

Now it was his turn to be confused. “The prom that the Professor promised the students like a month ago. It’s this Saturday,” he reminded her. 

With her mouth agape, she sat her ass down on the leather couch, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Shit, I forgot! How could I forget? I never forget anything when it comes to my job, the kids… Shit.” 

Logan had to chuckle at her reaction. He found it quite adorable. “Y/N, you’ve been working your ass off for the kids. No wonder you forgot. It’s a good thing I reminded ya.” He drank the rest of the beer in one go. “‘Cuz I’m the best at these things.”

“Fuck, right,” she said with an irony in her voice. She wanted to smash her head against the nearest wall.

Y/N was never the one to forget anything and now, it happened. Where was her head the last few weeks? “I have no dress or shoes or anything,” she started to talk mostly to herself. The panic, tiredness and some anxiety showed in her power that she had thanks to her mutation. A forcefield started to glitch around her. 

Logan’s eyes widened. “Uh, princess, you need to calm down,” he said. “Take a few deep breaths before you hurt me.” 

Y/N’s forcefield was unique. It could protect but be deadly if she handled it correctly. 

She glared at him but did as told. She took a few deep breaths until the glitching forcefield stopped. “You know I hate that nickname,” she growled. Logan was no idiot - she was a liar. She liked those nicknames he called her.  It made him chuckle. 

“Sure,” Logan winked at her. “Lie to yourself all you want.” He enjoyed it when he could rile her up. “So, do you have a date for this prom?” he asked her again. 

“No,” Y/N replied as she started to pack all the papers. “As you didn’t already notice, old man,” she knew where to press his buttons, “I forgot about the whole thing. So, no, no date.” 

“Wait,” Logan stopped her before she could leave. “So you are telling me, that you don’t have a date? How is that possible?” 

She shrugged. “No one asked me. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I believe Bobby is taking Kitty, and Charles and Storm will be attending together. And I think Colossus will ask Angel to be his date since they have this thing going on.” 

“What if I was your date?” Logan suggested nonchalantly. His eyes were fixed on her, watching her reaction - and it was a good one. A sparkle appeared in her irises, she stopped talking and just opened and closed her mouth like a fish underwater. “We could go together if you’d like.” 

Her lips twitched to a small smile, intrigued by it. “You’d want to go with me?”

“I wouldn’t mind going as your date,” he said, his voice was a bit husky. 

“And here I thought you would like to avoid an event like this,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Too much noise, too many kids at the same place.”

“I am full of surprises, princess,” he winked at her. 

That stupid nickname made her roll her eyes. “Fine, you can be my date,” she agreed after a while. “But we still need to look after the students and be responsible teachers,” I warned him. “No booze, sir.”

“What?” he frowned, obviously not happy with that information.”Who made that rule?”

“It’s a student prom and they are all underaged,” I explained to him. “You think the Professor will allow alcohol? Ha, wake up, darling.” 

“Look who is using nicknames,” he pointed it out. “I was about to say I am excited about the whole prom thing. This changes everything. I don’t even know if I wanna go.” 

Y/N got annoyed by that comment. She gave him an evil glare. “Fuck you, Logan. And here I thought you’d be excited that I agreed to be your date. Maybe I should ask Hank to be my date.”

“Oh, come on, princess, I am messing with ya.” 

When Y/N was sure she had all her belongings, she walked away from him. “Goodnight, Logan,” she sang to him. 

She couldn’t see but Logan had a gentle smile on his face, pleased by all the teasing. There was some excitement bubbling inside of him. She agreed to go to that stupid prom with him. 

Y/N hid in her room where she finished grading the last essays. She didn’t let herself think about anything, or anyone until the work was done. Luckily, the last essays were very good and they all received an A. 

She changed into a T-shirt and shorts and got into her bed. The moment she turned the light off, she thought back to the last half an hour - to the part where Logan asked her to be his date for the school prom. 

A laugh escaped her throat. The Wolverine asked her to be his date for a school prom. How surreal. 

Her heart fluttered and her cheeks got hot. The truth was, she liked Logan a lot. There was something eye-gripping and panties-dropping about him. In the past, she would date the exact opposite men than was he. And the way Logan would mess with her, she secretly loved it. 

With him, she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she’s not.

The next few days were normal. She taught English and Literature classes and found the time to dress shop with Angel two days before the prom. She found a beautiful red dress with secret pockets on each side and an exposed back. It had a deep cleavage that would show her breasts perfectly. 

“So, found a dress yet?” Logan stopped by her side the day before the prom. He was standing close behind her, breathing in her scent. 

“Aren’t you a curious soul,” she tilted her head and grinned. “You know what they say: Curiosity killed the cat.” 

“What if I want to match a tie?” he asked innocently, to which she had to laugh. “I am serious, Y/N.” 

Y/N turned around and was met with his eyes staring into her. She pressed a book closer to her chest and smirked at him. “See, if I tell you my dress is blue, would you put on a blue tie?” 

He made a face. “No,” he said seriously. 

“So why ask if you won’t do it anyway.” 

“Come on, Y/N, tell me,” he nudged her shoulder.  

She laughed and pushed him out of her way. “I want it to be a surprise, so stop being nosy,” she winked at him and left to teach another class. 

Logan grinned when she left him standing in the hallway, but there was one person who saw the interaction - Hank. The Beast passed by him in the hallway, staring at the Wolverine, chuckling. “You two are unbelievable,” he commented. 

“Shut up,” he growled at Hank. 

“Come on, it’s… adorable,” he said the word carefully.

Logan rolled his eyes, already done with the conversation. He walked down the hallway to his class where he taught history. 

He had a thing for her and he couldn’t even lie to himself about it. Logan’s eyes would linger on her longer than necessary. He would watch her leave and stare at her back until she was gone (well, he stared at her ass, because god, it was a good ass.) 

When Saturday came, all the students were excited about this event. The girls who came up with the idea of having a prom were praised by many. The boys and men had to help set the outside with balloons, giant speakers, and other decorations. Storm and Kitty were in the kitchen preparing the drinks for the evening - making sure they were non-alcoholic. Charles forbade any kind of alcohol because the students were too young to drink. 

Logan was still pissed about it. It was one thing to go to a stupid prom with a beautiful woman by his side, which made him rethink the whole “stupid” thing. But on the other hand - no alcohol? Not even a beer? It would be difficult. 

Y/N came to the kitchen with two big boxes on top of each other, followed by Bobby who had another three, keeping them cool. Deserts arrived. They decided that finger food was the best option for this event. 

Bobby wanted to take one dessert, but his fingers were smacked by Kitty, who glared at him. “No,” she said strictly. 

“But I helped,” he pleaded. When Kitty didn’t permit him one tiny piece of cake, he left the kitchen puffy.

“Will this be enough?” Storm asked when she looked at all the boxes. 

“Maybe you should ask that boy, Dean, who can make any food with a snap of his fingers to make us something,” Y/N suggested, smiling innocently. 

“Wouldn’t that be mean?” Kitty questioned. 

Y/N only shrugged as she walked out of the kitchen. “It’s worth trying,” she then shouted at them when she was farther away. 

Logan walked inside the school just as Y/N was about to hit the upper floor. “What’s with the dumb face?” he pointed at her, curious about that smile playing on her lips. 

Her eyes squinted, giving him an annoyed expression. “Always so curious, huh?”

“And you are always so mysterious,” he smirked at her. 

“You like it, Logan,” she gave him a wink and continued walking up the stairs. 

If only she turned to see the smile on his face as he watched her walk up the stairs. “Hey,” he stopped her before she disappeared into the upper level. “Should I come for you tonight?” 

Y/N leaned against the wooden bannister. “It depends on…”

“On?” 

“What kind of movie effect do you want: ‘Princess walking down the stairs - the Princess effect’ or ‘I shall come for you, my darling to admire you in secret’.” She said the other one dramatically. “So, what do you want?” And then she made the Scales with her hands. 

She could see the wheels spinning inside Logan’s head. He thought about what he wanted to happen. And then she heard a faint “fuck” coming out of his lips. 

“Both of them sound good, huh?” she smiled brightly, showing him her white teeth. “If you don’t come by 6:30 pm, I’ll know you want the ‘Princess effect’.” And she was gone. 

That woman is a fucking tease, he thought. She did things to him and he was hard, painfully hard. Gritting his teeth, he left the hallway and went to the kitchen to fetch himself something to drink. 

When he didn’t come by 6:30, Y/N knew he decided on the ‘Princess effect’. She checked her appearance in the mirror one last time before she left her room. The prom would start at 7 pm and the teachers had to gather a bit earlier. 

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. She was curious to see Logan’s reaction. Hell, she still couldn’t believe he asked her to this prom. Y/N had to laugh at it. But it was thrilling. There were butterflies inside her stomach, tickling her - or was it her vagina? 

As predicted, Logan, Hank and Bobby were chatting at the stairs, all dressed in fancy suits. And from what she could see, Logan chose an all-black suit. Fuck, she thought. 

Bobby was the first one who saw her. “Wow,” he said when his eyes landed on her. “You look good, Y/N.” 

And then Logan turned and his eyes widened, observing Y/N in her long red dress. She looked gorgeous, like a princess. Fucking princess effect. 

There was a slit up her right leg to her thigh that showed up when she walked. Her breasts were screaming at him, as they were pressed against the dress and popping out. The way her hair was loose on her shoulders and her make-up and… he was fucked. Her scent surrounded his being, influencing his every sense.

“Gentlemen,” she greeted them with a soft smile. 

“Dressed to kill?” Bobby commented.

“Something like that,” she winked at him. “After all, this is my first prom ever.” 

Logan’s eyes still lingered on her face, occasionally drifting to her breasts and then up her neck to her lips and eyes again. He still didn’t say a word to her. Maybe he forgot to talk? Fuck, he forgot to breathe and exist.

“First prom?” Hank was surprised. “If that’s the case,” he looked at Logan and chuckled, “you are doing a splendid job.” He patted Bobby on his shoulder as a sign to leave Logan and Y/N alone. 

She made a face and looked at Logan. “Did the ‘Princess effect’ work?” 

He released a breath that he was holding. “You look hideous.” 

Y/N laughed out loud. She wasn’t offended, because she knew he didn’t mean it at all. “Uh-huh, sure, if you say so.” She reached her hand to his face and helped him close his mouth. “You are drooling.” 

“The fuck I am,” he rolled his eyes. Like a gentleman, he gave her his arm to grab. When she did, they walked outside. 

They looked like a deadly couple. When they arrived at the outdoor prom, everyone who was present turned their attention to them. Logan, dressed in black, which was shocking as it was, and Y/N in a sexy red dress, was a deadly combo. 

Some of the students, who were already there, stared at the couple, whispering about them. Logan could hear their whispers. Enhanced hearing was a blessing and a curse. They couldn’t believe that those two were attending together. 

Is Mr. Howlett dating Miss Y/L/N? 

How could she say yes to him?

How the hell did that happen?

More students came and the prom could finally start. The music was loud, drinks and finger food were served and the students had a great time. The teachers stood together at a drinks table, talking. Compliments were flying around. The women even admired how Logan looked in his suit, but he would grumble something under his nose. He was getting grumpier by the second. He desperately needed alcohol or anything else that would help him survive the night.

“Shit,” Y/N gasped when her eyes found Johny zapping other girls with his electric ability. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan was the first one to watch her leave, eyes travelling up and down her body. “Fuck me,” he cursed. 

“We are not blind, Logan,” Charles wheeled to his side, his eyes were in the crowd, watching as Y/N talked to the young student. “And, excuse me, but your thoughts are screaming some things that I wish I didn’t have to hear.” 

“So don’t be a creep and listen.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “You should make a move, Logan.”

“We are colleagues,” he said. 

“Whatever you say. But we see the chemistry between you two. Plus, you make a good team during missions.” 

Annoyed, he turned to Charles to talk back, but the man was already talking to Kitty. Logan shook his head in disbelief. He hated to admit that what Y/N meant to him was something he wished he didn’t want to experience again - out of fear of losing that person, again. She was the air he needed to breathe, the water he needed to drink.  

Some teenage boys approached Y/N on the dance floor once she was done with Johny. Logan frowned, not liking how close they were to her. Horny teenagers. 

“You look real’ nice teach,” said one of them. 

“Wanna dance?”

“No, first with me. I do enjoy your classes the most.” 

What a fucking liar, Logan thought. None of the boys were interested in her classes or teaching or her knowledge. 

Logan clenched his fists tightly. The more he listened to how those boys talked to her; how their eyes travelled her body, looking where only he should be the one looking, the more he wanted to scare the shit out of them. And when she took a step back, his legs moved forward, determined to step in and shoo them away. 

“Is there a problem?” his voice got darker, more intimidating. 

The boys feared the great Wolverine and so they quickly stepped back. “We were just…”

“I believe there are other girls more suitable for you,” he hugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go bother them.” 

With a snap of fingers, they were gone. They wouldn’t dare to talk back to the Wolverine. And, they feared he would make their lives miserable during history lessons. 

“Charming,” Y/N commented, chuckling. 

“You should have seen how they were looking at you,” he glared at her. “As if you were their prey.” 

“Good thing you came to rescue little ol’ me.”

He rubbed his face with a hand, sighing. “I need a drink. To hell with this no alcohol policy.” 

“Already so grumpy? And the prom barely started,” she gently stroked his arm, feeling the muscles under his suit.

“Well, it sucks.”

She took a step closer to him, tilting her head up to watch his face. “You know, this dress has secret pockets and I might have something inside of them that is forbidden this evening.” She gleamed with innocence. 

Logan inhaled her sweet scent again. He saw that teasing smile, could feel her body heat and he could breathe her in until the end of his time. “Are you suggesting that there’s some forbidden substance on you right now?” 

Her lips crooked into a wicked smile. “Come with me.” 

He didn’t have to be told twice. He walked by her side, farther away from the students and the whole prom, heading to the pond. The estate was vast. It was a perfect place to sneak around at night.

“For a teacher, you know how to break the rules,” he commented.

“Rules are meant to be broken, or am I wrong?” 

They stopped by the pond, next to one of the big thick trees standing there proudly. It was a perfect spot to be hidden but also see if any of the students were sneaking away from the party. 

They were surrounded by darkness. Only the moon gave them enough light to see each other’s faces. 

Y/N reached into one of the pockets and took out a black flask. She waved it in front of his eyes. “You are the best, princess,” he said. He was quick enough to take it out of her hand, open it and take a sniff. “Whisky?” he was surprised. 

“Please, repeat that I am the best, go on,” she goaded him. 

“You are the fucking best, princess,” he said and took a sip of the liquid. “Damn.” 

He handed her the flask and it was her turn to drink. “We are the two most irresponsible teachers. How can Charles trust us with the kids?” She put the flask to her lips and drank the liquid. It burned her throat and she turned up her nose. “It’s been a while since I had whisky.” 

“Why drink if you don’t like it?” 

“Who says I don’t like it?” 

“Your face,” he grabbed the flask from her again. 

“Rude, you know that?” she made an offended face. 

“Shut up,” he laughed at her and drank once more. “You’re a bad influence, you know that, eh? 

She raised a brow. “Are you complaining? I can take the flask and leave you here while I enjoy the drinking alone.” Y/N reached for the flask but he grabbed her wrist tightly. 

“Don’t you dare, princess,” he huffed. “You’d let old man suffer like this?” 

She scoffed. “What a fucking liar.”

“I’m over 150 years old,” he states, his hand not leaving her wrist. “So, yeah, I’m old.” 

“Uh-huh, ancient even,” she put a mocking smile on her face. “ The Smithsonian called, they want their fossil back.”

“Very funny.”

Her eyes drifted to his hand wrapped over her wrist. “You know, I don’t mind that you are holding me, but I want to drink.” 

Logan clears his throat and lets go of her. “Sorry,” he apologizes. 

Y/N drank the whisky. “So Canadian,” she commented, making a fake French accent. “Always apologising.”

“Are we on this again?” Y/N loved to tease him about this. The Canadian jokes were funny. Then again, he would tease her for her European heritage. 

“Oui, oui ma chérie,” she replied in the best French she could muster. 

“Fuck you with those Canadian jokes.”

“Ha, you wish.” 

Logan took the flask out of her hand to drink again. Y/N was quick enough to take it before he could put it to his lips. A new sound escaped Logan’s throat as he pressed himself closer to her to reach for the flask again. He was successful. Y/N wanted to steal it again but Logan put it up in the air, mocking her to take it from there. 

The annoyance on her face was evident and he laughed. “Come and get it, princess.” 

Y/N tried. To get it, she took a step closer to him and stretched her arms up as much as her body let her. The front of her body pressed against his hard, muscular chest. Logan could feel the shape of her perfect breasts. 

His eyes found her. That’s when he realised how close her face was to his. All he needed to do was to lean closer and he would be able to get to her lips - taste them for the first time. Once her breath hit his face, he went for it. 

Logan closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against her in their first soft kiss. He tested the waters, just to find out if she wanted this or not. When the kiss deepened, he let the flask drop to the grass and his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Their lips moved, exploring each other lips and mouths. He found a moment where she would grant him access and he pressed his tongue inside her mouth to explore it a bit further. 

Y/N’s arms were around his neck, pulling herself as close to him as possible. “Logan,” she moaned his name when his lips moved to her chin and then to her neck. He found a sensitive spot that got her weak in the knees and another moan got out of her throat. 

Logan stopped the kissing to look into her face. “Fuck, princess, I dreamt about this for some time now.” 

“So why are you stopping now?” she whispered. 

“I don’t think I will be able to stop,” he admitted, brushing her lower lip with his thumb. 

Y/N took it between her lips and sucked on it. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop,” she said after she let it out with a pop.

His lips were back on her in a messier kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, biting and pulling. Her hands stroked his chest over the fancy clothes he wore, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. Logan’s hands gripped her ass tightly, enjoying how it felt on his big palms. “I want you, baby girl.” 

“I want you too, Logan,” she moaned into his mouth. 

He pressed her harshly against the nearest tree they stood by, pushing his body to her. He was painfully hard and there was no way he’d be able to stop now. So when her hand found his bulge, he was a goner. 

“Fuck,” she gasped. 

His hand found her exposed thigh and it travelled up until he made her wrap the leg around his waist. Then he pressed the bulge against her clothed pussy. And that was rewarded by another sweet moan. 

All of a sudden, he stopped and looked into her face. She was breathing heavily, a hint of confusion evident on her face. Her eyes asked why he stopped. Her hands grabbed tightly onto his jacket. “Not here,” Logan said after he caught his breath. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. 

“Why not?” she sighed, impatient. 

“‘Cuz a princess like you should be treated like one,” he explained. “Plus, tonight you look like a fucking princess.” He wanted the best for her. “And maybe in time, I’d fuck the soul out of you somewhere in the woods.” 

A slow smile pulled on her lips. “Ah, so you think about this not being a one-time thing?” 

He carefully let her exposed leg go. He then put a finger under her chin. “Fuck, no. You can’t deny there’s somethin’ between us.” 

Y/N’s arms were back around his neck, breathing in his scent. He still hadn’t smoked those cigars because there was no trace of the smell on him. Her fingers scrapped his nape and it made him roll his eyes in pleasure. “The teasing, the banter, how we make fun of each other… yeah, there definitely is.” 

He hummed. “Plus, everyone can see it, as they kept reminding me the last few days.” 

That made her laugh. “Yeah, I had my talk with Ororo.”

Y/N pushed her back from the three and she yelped in pain. Some of the wood scratched her back. “Fuck,” she cursed. 

“And that is another reason why we should take this somewhere else,” he said as his hand brushed her hair off the back and swiped off some of the bits of wood and dirt. He could smell a bit of blood. 

Before they headed back to the dance, Logan picked the flask from the ground. There was some alcohol left. He handed it to her and she took a sip. Afterwards, he drank the rest of it. They walked side by side, his big hand brushing against her smaller one. Here and there, they would give one another fleeting stares.

“I’m gonna take you for a ride tomorrow,” he said out of nowhere and that got her attention. “What do you say?” 

“Oh, like a date?” she nudged his shoulder. “I didn’t know you do that. I always thought that you were above these things. You know, toxic masculinity and shit.” 

“Now you hurt my feelings, princess.” 

“I’m just messing with you, Lo’. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not surprised. I really didn’t picture you as the one who would ask a girl on a date. It’s nice.”

“So, is that a yes?” 

Quickly, she got on her tiptoes, pulled on his hand to lean a bit to her and she kissed him on the bearded cheek. “Yes.” 

When they came back to the prom, they kept some of the distance between them. Kitty was the first to approach them. “Hey, I think the Professor said no alcohol,” she pointed at the flask that Y/N was holding in her left hand. 

“Cough syrup,” she said innocently. 

Logan had to hold back his laugh. Kitty, on the other hand, shook her head in disapproval. She watched as her friend put the flask into a pocket of her dress. “Sneaky.” 

“I told her she’s a bad influence,” Logan commented. That earned him a slap on the shoulder. 

Someone’s gentle fingers brushed against her back. “What happened to you?” Ororo’s voice came from behind her. She found the tiny scratches on her back. When she moved her hair to the side, there were more of them. 

“Oh,” Y/N waved a hand. “Just slippery grass and I bumped into a tree.” 

Kitty made a face and Ororo glared at her too, knowing she was lying to them. Then their eyes were on Logan. “She’s fucking clumsy.” 

“Right,” Ororo commented. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to the bathroom,” she said. Nothing better came to her mind to get away from that situation. And with her head high, she left her friends and Logan standing there. 

Y/N ended up in one of the closest bathrooms where she tried to take a peek at her back, to see how bad it was. She was able to see some scratches on the left side of her shoulder, but it was not that bad. Yes, there were scratches and some blood, but nothing horrible. All she needed was to clean it off with a wet cloth. 

Her sigh reverberated through the room. It all kept coming back to her - the way his lips felt, how he kissed her and touched her. How he pressed her against the tree, ready to have his way with her. Fuck, he was packing. She thought they would fuck there, right against the tree, but he didn’t want to. And it all brought a smile to her face. 

Y/N had been pining for him for some time now. In her eyes, Logan was the exact opposite of a man that she would date in the past. He was the epitome of a man. She couldn’t count how many times her panties dropped when she talked to him, or when he did something. And those damn claws. Fuck! 

After washing her hands, she left the bathroom and headed back to the prom. Maybe she could ask him to dance with her? Would he?

That didn’t happen because Logan was standing at the stairs, waiting. 

“Why are you not outside?” she asked. 

He reached a hand to her. She eyed him, curious why he did that, but gave him her hand. “Just come,” was all he said. 

Logan took her upstairs, all the way back to her room. He was inside maybe twice, never paying her room any special attention until now. 

She had a guitar by the table, a queen-sized bed with a night table and a lamp. Her walls were decorated with shelves and books. It was a cosy room, better than his.  Y/N opened her mouth to question him. Logan made her sit on the bed. “You have a disinfection?” 

She peaked at him through her dark lashes. “Bathroom.” 

Logan went to the other door in the room where found a shower, toilet and a sink with cabinets and a mirror. He went to the cabinet under the sink where he found a box marked a first aid kit. 

He sat behind her on the bed, brushing her hair away from her shoulders so he could have a peek at her exposed back. Without words, he cleaned the tiny scratches from the tree. “Shit, there’s some wood inside this one,” he cursed once he found one wound that needed more treatment. 

He found tweezers that helped him get out the piece of wood. She didn’t even flinch. Once he was done, he put the first aid kit back in the bathroom. 

Y/N stood up and waited for his return. “How will I repay you, my knight in shining armour?” 

His actions spoke louder than words. He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her close to his body, his lips back on her as they were over half an hour ago. Her hands removed his black jacket and let it fall on the floor.

“You look so hot in a suit,” she mumbled between the kisses. “I could eat you up.” 

He chuckled. “I think that is my line, princess. Now, tell me, how much do you like that dress?” 

Y/N stopped everything she was doing and took a step back. “Oh no no, do not touch the dress with your claws. It was fucking expensive and I like it.” 

That playful grin on his face would be her death. He sat down on her bed and took off the tie. “Take it off for me, now, or,” he looked down at his fist as his three adamantium claws came out of his skin. “Or there will be no dress left.” 

Her fingers found the tiny zipper on her side. Y/N’s eyes never left his dark eyes, boring into them as she teasingly took off the dress as he commanded her. His claws were gone once he stood in front of him only in her red thong.

“Fuck, princess, look at you.” He ogled her from head to toe, his eyes lingering longer on her perky breasts. Her body had beautiful curves that he dreamt about for a long time. 

Y/N was quick to get to him and sat on his lap, pressing her pussy against his hard bulge. Her hands grabbed the middle of his black button-up. He couldn’t let a sound out, she ripped the buttons, exposing his hard-toned chest. 

“How is that fair?” he snarled. 

“And how is it fair that I am almost naked here while you sit here, all comfy and clothed?” she cocked her eyebrow. She took the piece of clothing off him completely, admiring everything and anything on him - those toned arms and shoulders, that chest, and fuck, even though he was a hairy man, she was into it. Her fingers dug into his skin, leaving deep red marks on his chest. 

His lips found her neck in delicate kisses that he pressed to her skin, trailing down to her collarbones until he found her chest and latched onto her nipples hungrily. “These tits were made for me.” He bit onto one, making her yelp. 

Y/N’s hands went between their bodies, finding his belt and zipper, trying to get inside of them hurriedly. “Impatient?” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

She heard his dark chuckle that then turned into a moan once her hand got inside his trousers and grabbed his length. “Princess, don’t be a tease.” 

With his help, the rest of his clothes were gone. Logan lay down on her bed, watching her crawl on top of him. Her breasts were right at his face. One piece of clothing was separating her sweet cunt and his cock and that was the damn thong. One of his claws got out of his hand and precisely tore the piece of fabric without hurting her. He took the damaged panties away and threw them on the ground. 

“Now, are you gonna stare at me or are you gonna ride me with that sweet pussy of yours?” His hands then rested on her thighs, lazily travelling up to her sides and then to her gorgeous breasts, squeezing them. His fingers tweaked her hard nipples, making her moan for him. 

“Come on, princess, be a good girl and ride me.” 

Y/N grabbed his cock and aligned it with her entrance, carefully sinking onto it. Her mouth was agape as she kept her eyes locked onto his one. “Fuck, so thick.” 

First, the pace was slow. She tried to get used to his girth. After a few thrusts, she sped up. Logan’s hands grabbed her and they entwined their fingers. “Shit, sweetheart, you squeeze me so well. Your pussy is amazing.” 

“Logan,” she said his name hoarsely. 

He quickly lost his patience and switched them. Y/N landed on her bed with a huff and he entered her before she realised what happened. The room filled with skin-on-skin slapping sounds. He fucked her rough and fast. Y/N’s nails dung into the skin on his back. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t hurt him.

His left hand went between their bodies until he found her clit and toyed with it. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “I’m s-so close. Fuck.”

“Come on, cum for me, princess. I wanna feel you.” He put her right leg over his shoulder and got deeper than before. “I can feel you’re close. Come on, cum for me.” 

It took a few more thrusts and some strokes on her clit when she climaxed. The way her cunt squeezed his cock brought him to his peak fast and he spilled inside her, coating her walls white. “Ah!”

“Fuck, fuck,” he cursed as his thrusts got sloppier, slower. He stopped once her pussy stopped spasming and his release ended. 

Their breaths were heavy. Her chest was heaving and it was a beautiful sight to watch her breasts move in front of his eyes. He latched onto one of the nipples, sucking on it. “Fucking beautiful.” 

Then their lips connected in a heated kiss, tongues battling. She giggled when he looked back at her. “Damn,” she whispered. “That was hot. Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Logan was curious. He rolled next to her side. 

She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest, breathing in his scent. “How about,” she started slowly. “Tomorrow, after you take me for a ride on your bike, I ride you on your bike?” 

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You will be the death of me, princess.” 

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, kidnapped reader, bondage, somnophilia, oral, light ass-play

fem reader

It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m thinking about the incel who’s never celebrated with anyone…

Only… now that he has you locked up in his house all to himself, He’s going to have you treat him to all those Valentine's cliches he’s missed out on – all inside the comforts of your new home, of course.

It’s early morning, and he’s got his cock inside you before you’ve even woken up. His thrusts are sleepy, and his voice is drowsy as he says he looks forward to breakfast – that he hasn’t had anyone cook him breakfast in bed since his mom on his tenth birthday. He likes his eggs sunny-side up, his bacon crispy, his toast golden, and his coffee just a little sweet for the occasion, plus a small glass of juice on the side.

After cumming inside you, he tells you not to take too long – that he wants you back in bed, hand-feeding him before the bed gets cold.

When you get back from the kitchen, he’s picked out a romance to watch – patting your place on the bed with a big grin on his face.

The trouble in your chest is a little eased to see him happy. Though it’s sick doing these types of things with your kidnapper – you much prefer acting like his girlfriend than getting your tits, clit, and ass flogged with a leather belt. 

So you curl up beside him like he gestured and hand-fed him like he’d said and laughed and awed at the movie playing out before you as if you were really enjoying yourself. And when he whispers that he’s made you breakfast as well while lifting the tray off his lap to reveal his hard-on, you hold back the wince and crawl under the covers – not a single slight leaving your lips as you wrap them around him and start sucking him off.

He hadn’t bothered wiping it with a tissue after this morning’s first, and so flakes of dried cum and soured bitterness coat your mouth in overwhelming filth, making tears well up and go dripping pitifully down your cheeks – holding back from gagging as you keep bobbing your head all pliantly while using your tongue to lave over his veins.

He sighs in bliss above the duvet, weaving both hands into your hair as he nudges his tip down further into your plush throat, so warm and wet and tight around him, milking him for the meal in his balls. 

He shoots in right down to your belly when your lips kiss his base, petting your cheek while waiting for you to swallow around him. It takes everything in you not to choke on it and puke – but you’ve done it enough times now to resurface only breathless as you lay yourself to rest against his chest.

He says he’s got you a gift after having let you rest up for a little while – and drags a gift bag from under the bed. You receive it, forcing a shy smile – knowing not to expect a plushie and a heart-shaped box of chocolates but hoping for it nonetheless.

“I thought, since we can’t go outside, we’ll just have to make the most out of it in here...”

The contents of the bag make you swallow thickly – wide-eyed and goose-fleshed with trepidation. 

It’s all red – but that must have been the only thing Valentine’s about it…

Red silk blindfold, red ball gag, red rope, red fluffy cuffs, and a butt plug decorated with a heart-shaped ruby.

“And as for your gift to me,” He breaks your stillness, taking your face in both hands as he lifts it to level his – giving your pout a kiss that breaks with a wet smack. “All your holes all day long is all I want.”

You’re a picture. Bite marks on your breasts, a ring of teeth around your sore nipples – also on the inside of your thighs – along with full handprints welting the soft flesh. On your back with your hands beneath you, kept there in their cuffs – legs raised and spread, tied up in the red rope – mouth sucking on your ball, all muffled whining as you wiggle – blindfold soaked a deep burgundy from the tears streaming down your face. 

Your poor ass spread on the plug he’s eased inside, all cutely swallowed around the heart-shaped ruby glistening in the slick seeping from your pussy as he fucks you hard and fast and unrelentingly with a hand held tightly around your throat – moaning Happy Valentin’s Day!

BNHA – Shigaraki, Denki, Deku

JJK – Mahito

HQ – Tendou

CSM – Denji, Yoshida

[eudaimaniacs]

lunch with a side of a babydoll dress (hugh jackman x female reader)

word count: 700 words

warning/s: smut with one mention of feet

notes: i included a word count after four posts (well, it happens). also there's one request on my inbox and i'll try answering that asap. i'm not good at fulfilling these requests (i have one dead and deactivated tumble blog to prove it). enough yapping, enjoy reader!

It was a long day of shooting Hugh's new movie from 5:30 A.M. to 10:30 P.M. of shooting in multiple costumes. He was stressed, to say the least. He didn't have time to rest, rewind, or even fuck his wife.

You hang around on set to provide support for Hugh. You know how stressful filming gets, especially with the time allotted for makeup, costuming, and shooting. You mostly prepare his meals since he prefers your cooking to ordering take-out when he's tired from filming.

One day couldn't get any worse. It was a hot day, meaning Hugh would be tired from the filming and the heat. He wanted to lie down in bed and sleep away his stress. Hugh kept his composure and still treated the staff and cast nicely.

It was lunchtime, and Hugh couldn't wait to eat what you made for him. He went to his trailer and saw your heavenly figure preparing his meal. You were wearing a flowy, white baby doll dress. The sun shone through the ethereal fabric, dancing when you slightly moved. Hugh could trace your curves in the sheer fabric. The softness of your breasts, the soft bend of your waist, and your ass barely peeking out of the short dress.

"Oh, there you are, Hugh! Let's eat right now." You beamed and gave him a peck. He stared for a few seconds before exploring your body with his hands. Hugh felt heaven when he touched every part. He made sure to not miss a spot and treated your body like a goddess.

Hugh growled and remarked, "The lunch can wait, sweetheart. You look so fucking good in that dress." Before you can reply, he caught you by surprise by passionately kissing you.

You hummed and returned the same desperation to Hugh. You tugged his hair as the two of you continued to kiss deeper. Hugh lifted your dress and caressed your breasts. He massaged your nipples, turning them rock solid. Hugh's hands turned their attention to your ass, squeezing and lightly slapping it.

You giggle and break the kiss. "Glad you liked the dress, Hugh. I picked the perfect day to wear it."

Hugh dipped and then kissed your neck. "Have been too stressed today and the days before, honey. I need to relieve myself."

You raised your eyebrows at his suggestion. You were feeling the mood, but someone could walk inside the trailer to tell Hugh to return to set.

"Are you crazy, Hugh? One of your co-stars or makeup artist could come knocking, and they would hear us fucking," you whisper-screamed to Hugh, who was already touching your pussy. You moaned at the sensation of his rough hands rubbing your clit. You tried to protest, but Hugh's actions suppressed it.

"I don't care about them hearing, [Y/N]. I want them to know how good my wife fucking feels."

Hugh raised your dress and took out his cock from the restraint of his tight pants. He pumped it for a few times and then rubbed it at the lips of your pussy. You moaned and rubbed your breasts to further pleasure yourself. Hugh slowly entered, and you let out a loud, shaky whine.

He gradually fastened his pace, knowing he had little time to eat lunch and returning on set. Hugh growled and grabbed your waist as he reached his high. You felt the imprint of his dick on your stomach and hoped that he could see it through your dress.

You moaned and called out his name as you climaxed. You tried grabbing onto something as the sensation of Hugh's stress fucking you left you shaking.

"That was good, baby girl. Come on, let me help you get up," Hugh whispered, grabbing your waist to help you sit down. Your hair was a mess, as was your face. However, your white babydoll dress remained beautiful, sculpting your perfect body and highlighting your best features.

Hugh sat opposite and began eating the lunch you prepared earlier.

"Thank you for the two meals, [Y/N]. I can't wait for dinner tonight."

You winked and rubbed his crotch with your feet. Happily thinking what meal you'll prepare and dress he'll fuck you in with.

eudaimaniacs - 2024

[ariestrxsh]

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⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, humiliation, degradation, sneaking around, use of sex toy, edging, ruined orgasm, enemies to lovers, bratttamer!matt, mean!matt, roughdom!matt

📝 author's note: 📝 here are parts one and two. i'm sorry i kept you guys waiting so long for part three. please enjoy and please read the other two stories for build up and context. :)

✍️ Summary: ✍️ After staying the night in a heated sexual encounter with your arch nemesis, Matt Sturniolo, the two of you now have to keep up the charade in front of his brothers.

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hatef--k part three

The rest of the night was calm. Matt helped me move my laundry along, gave me back my clothes, and apologized for being a dick. "Hey, I'm sorry about hiding your towel and shit. That was kinda the meanest thing I've ever done to you," Matt smiled, probably recalling what it led to. It was actually the first time Matt had ever apologized to me for anything.

"Don't be sorry. I liked it. And if you're sorry, that's kind of a turn off," I looked up at him with a twinkle in my eye and a devilish grin plastered on my face, still riding a high from the incredibly passionate sex we'd just had.

"But you seemed legit mad," he looked at me, confused. "Well, I was mad. And I liked it. Both things are true. That's part of the game, isn't it?" I rhetorically asked. Matt smirked at me.

He knew exactly what I was talking about. It was just the first time either of us had really acknowledged the dynamic for what it was. If Matt and I really didn't like each other, we'd feel indifferent in the other's presence. But the only difference between disliking someone and hating them is passion.

Matt still did little things to frustrate me and tease me the rest of the night, like constantly moving my phone in random places, or tapping me on one shoulder but standing behind me on the opposite side. I'd roll my eyes at him and slug him in the arm, but there was something about the banter that was more playful than before.

"Did you wanna sleep with me in my bed tonight?" Matt asked, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting with his rings. "Why the fuck would I wanna do that?" I asked, but I was smiling.

"Because you're a little whore, and you might want something to rub up against while you're dreaming about how I just fucked you," Matt teased me, tickling my side. "Only if you keep your hands to yourself, perv," I joked back.

I fell asleep next to Matt in his bed that night. We did try to keep our hands to ourselves, but there were a few times in our slumber where I felt him poking me in my backside with his cock, and I did find myself mindlessly rubbing up against his hip bone like a dog in heat.

Finally, around 9 a.m. the next day, I woke up to the sunshine pouring into Matt's room, and I rolled over to greet him. He looked like he had also just woken up, and his eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the brightness.

"You know, I was joking when I told you I thought you were gonna rub up against me in your sleep, but you actually did it. Fucking whore," Matt teased me in his morning voice and let out a mean chuckle. "Yeah, and when I told you to keep your hands to yourself, I meant your hard on, too, perv," I rolled my eyes at him and smiled, intoxicated by the sleepiness that lingered in his words.

We heard a few noises downstairs, indicating someone had just walked in the door. Matt and I looked at each other wide-eyed, and I immediately jumped out of his bed, grabbing anything that was mine or anything that indicated I might have slept in there and booked it to Nick's room.

I frantically threw the blankets and pillows about on the bed to make it look slept in, splashed some cold water on my face in the bathroom, and stepped out to see Nick ascending the stairs in a white t-shirt, jeans, a leather jacket, and sunglasses. He always looked like a movie star. "Oh, hey. Good to see you awake. And alive," Nick laughed, stopping in the hallway. "Yeah, good to see you too," I lied.

I was definitely hoping to get another round with Matt in before either brother got home.

"Is Matt up yet?" Nick asked, motioning towards Matt's closed bedroom door. "Hmm. I don't know. Haven't seen him since last night," I lied again. Nick glided across the carpet and made his way to his room. "Jesus, was the bed comfortable? It looks like a tornado hit in here while you were sleeping," Nick joked, looking at the sheets in complete dissaray. "No, your bed was great!" I lied once more.

I had no idea if his bed was comfortable or not, considering the first time I'd stepped into his room was two minutes prior.

"I slept fine. I guess I just toss and turn a lot," I nervously laughed. Matt abruptly opened his door, startling me. My face grew hot, and my breath grew shallow. I could hear my heart thumping quickly in my chest, afraid Nick would pick up on the sudden energy shift between Matt and me.

"Hey Nick," Matt said, rubbing his eyes. "Good to see you guys didn't kill each other while we were gone," Nick said. "She tried, actually. Good thing I'm a light sleeper," Matt joked. "Move out of the way, freak. You're blocking the bathroom," Matt said, pushing past me. "Make sure you spend extra time in there. You look like shit," I responded rudely.

"Was he mean to you?" Nick asked after Matt closed the door behind him. "Not anymore than usual," I nonchalantly said. I don't know, Nick, do you consider your brother throwing me up against the wall and choking me and calling me a slut while he fucked me, mean? Because I don't know how to answer any of your questions right now.

Nick was one of those people I never lied to, but in just the past five minutes, I'd fabricated all my answers. I didn't like the act of lying, but I got excited at the idea of having a secret that nobody knew about besides Matt and me.

My phone, placed strategically on Nick's nightstand, started buzzing. It was a call from the company who was working on my water issue. "Hello?" I picked up the phone. "Hey, miss. Your water is back on, and it's all good to go. Sorry for the inconvenience," the man said over the phone. "Oh, no problem. Thanks for the update," I responded, staring Nick in the eyes, and I hung up.

"Damn," I fake sighed. "They said it's gonna be at least another day until I have running water in my apartment." Why stop lying now? "Don't worry about it. Why don't you just stay here another night?" Nick suggested, which was exactly what I was hoping he'd say. "We'll just have Matt drive you over to your apartment and get anything you need," he told me. I like the way you think, Nick.

"Oh, yeah. Matt will love that," I said, rolling my eyes but also smiling because I loved pissing him off. "What will I love?" Matt asked, walking out of the bathroom and past Nick's room. "Hey Matt, my water's still out, and Nick here, just offered to have you drive me over to my place real quick, so I can pick up some things I'll need to stay here another night. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" I taunted him, batting my eyelashes and smiling.

"I'd rather shoot myself in the foot, but I'll do it for my wonderful brother here who loves to help people by volunteering me to help them," Matt slapped Nick on the back and gave him a look. "Let's go, brat," Matt rolled his eyes and motioned for me to come towards him. Matt pushed the front door closed on me as I trailed behind him out to the yard. "Fuck you, Matt," I muttered.

Once we were outside and Nick couldn't hear us, Matt turned around, held me by my neck, and said, "What the fuck did you just say to me?" I loved the feeling of his fist tightening around my throat while he spoke to me through gritted teeth. "I said, fuck you, Matt," I repeated. "I'm gonna make you pay for that one later," he smirked, loosening his grip and getting into the car. Jesus, way to make me instantly wet, Matt.

I hopped into the passenger seat, Matt connected his phone and started playing some music, but as soon as he pulled out of the driveway, I disconnected his phone and started connecting my own. "What the fuck!?" Matt yelled, pushing my hands away from the display monitor.

"Hey, both hands on the wheel," I smiled, tickling his side and causing him to swerve. "You're gonna make me crash," Matt barked at me. "You're gonna make yourself crash. You focus on driving. We're listening to TV Girl," I said, putting on 'Cigarettes out the Window.'

"Whatever. At least it's not as annoying as some of the shit you listen to," he rolled his eyes. We pulled up to my apartment. "Wait here. I'll be just a few minutes," I told him. I didn't need much, just a pair of lounging clothes, since all the laundry over at the Sturniolos' was either gymware or my work clothes, so I picked out a tank top and shorts to sleep in. And my vibrator. God, I needed my vibrator. I knew it would be risky, but in case I didn't get to fool around with Matt that night if everyone was home, at least the vibrator was a less risky route.

As soon as I went to reach for it off the top shelf in my closet, I felt a presence come up behind me, and I immediately whipped around. "Jesus, Matt. You scared the fuck out of me," I said embarrassed as I tried to hide my vibrator behind my back. "What do we have here?" Matt said walking up to me as if he were going to hug me, but he reached around my waist and grabbed my vibrator from behind me. "Is this what you use when you think about me?" Matt teased me, examining it.

"Shut the fuck up, Matt," I rolled my eyes at him. "You know, the funniest thing happened when I walked in," Matt whispered. I looked at him inquisitively, unsure of what he was going to say next. "I turned on your faucet, and your water is just fine," Matt replied.

"I know. They called me this morning. I lied to Nick," I admitted, looking away from him. "Why'd you lie?" Matt asked, raising his eyebrows, thinking he already knew the answer. "Oh, you know, trying to save a few bucks on my water bill this month," I giggled and bit my lip.

"Bullshit. I think you were gonna prance around my house, wearing this little white tank top with no bra and these little shorts," Matt said, pointing at my clothes on the bed, "and I think you were gonna tease me all fucking night, and I'm sure you were gonna plan for me to catch you using this on yourself, huh?" He held my vibrator in front of my face. "Anything for me to fuck you silly again, huh? Are you that desperate for my cock?" Matt replied in a condescending tone. God, he was turning me on.

"Stand fucking still, you cheap little whore," Matt ordered me while he pulled down my bottoms, including my underwear. He stood behind me, his hot breath hitting the side of my neck. With one hand, he held my arms behind my back, restraining my wrists and with the other, he turned on my vibrator. Having been stripped down to nothing but my t-shirt and having Matt hindering any movement of my arms while he studied my favorite sex toy brought me to a whole new level of humiliation, and I couldn't get enough of it.

He rested my buzzing toy on my cunt, and I immediately felt my knees grow weak. He leaned in and whispered, "You're such a naughty girl. Lying to Nick. Telling me to go fuck myself. Running around my house being a little tease." I looked up at him lingering over my shoulder and let out a few soft whimpers. "You like making me angry, don't you? You love being punished when you misbehave, huh?" He cooed, and I bit my lip and nodded. "What would Nick say, knowing you lied to him so you could have another chance to get dicked down by me, huh? What do you think he'd think of you, hmm?" He teased me.

I felt the vibrations torturing my clit, reverberating throughout my being, and inching me closer to the edge with every word Matt gruffly whispered in my ear. My moans became more fervent and more desperate. "Please, Matt. I'm so close," I softly responded.

"Well, isn't that a damn shame?" He said, letting go of my wrists and turning off my vibrator, ruining my orgasm. "Put your clothes back on, whore. We should get back before Nick wonders what's taking so long," Matt smirked at me and handed me back my toy.

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @mattsbrowser @ribread03 @slutforsturnioloss @inlovewcock

part four posted here 💖