#who only comes out every couple of months

[ink-n-shadow]

Thinkin’ about Price, who’s on med leave and under strict orders not to engage in any strenuous activity, begging his controversially young wife to take pity on an old man and fuck him.

Your daughter is born nine months later. You like to joke she exists bc your husband was actually home long enough to put a baby in you.

NOW YOU GOT ME THINKIN ANON—

[ MEDICAL LEAVE ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where john's finally home long enough to get you pregnant

𝜗𝜚 pairing: john price x younger wife!reader (reader is afab) 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), age gap (price is in his late 30s, reader is late 20s), mentions of surgery/recovery, john having a pain kink (need i say more?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it/get tapped), unedited as usual, bad ending

"john, the doctor had strict orders for you to—"

you're cut off mid-rant by john slotting his lips over yours, the mitts of his hands covering your cheeks and tugging your face closer to his. his tongue juts out to lick needily at the seam of your lips, the faint taste of the painkillers he had just taken still fresh on his tastebuds only to be replaced by the sweet mint of your toothpaste.

john would've kept kissing you, too, if he hadn't tried to twist his hips over to face you, making him pull away sharply and hiss out at the way the fresh sutures etched in his ribs twinged in pain.

"john—"

"m'fine," john grunts out hoarsely as he lays back down flat on his back, eyebrows pinched low in the middle of his forehead and tongue licking at the remnants of your spit on his lips. "just wanna—christ—wanna be inside ya."

and that’s how you got to your current position, sitting directly behind john’s thick and leaking cock as you lean back to rest your hands on his hairy muscled thighs—anywhere that wasn’t sutured closed or bruised from the surgery he’d undergone. from beneath furrowed brows, your soft eyes focused on the molten heat buoying in his pupils.

“i don’t wanna accidentally hurt you, john,” the end of your sentence comes out pinched in a whine as the calloused pad of his thumb begins circling your sopping clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation and instinctively rolling forward against his sensitive cock.

john uses the thumb petting at your clit to distract you from the way he manhandles you up, notching the head of his cock between your folds and holding you there for a moment. “i don’t fuckin’ care if it hurts, ‘lright? don’t wan’ you stoppin’ until i feel you cummin’ ‘round my cock four times, and i fill up this pretty fuckin’ pussy—understand me?”

and even though john’s cemented into your shared bed on his back, he keeps you all nice and obedient under his thumb, using the hand he keeps groping at your hip as a way to guide the way your movements. every so often, his sutures would twinge in just a way to send a jolt of pain up his spine—but then he would feel your gummy walls gripping his cock just a little tighter, and the pain would warp into delicious pleasure.

you, ever the good little wife you were, did exactly as john told you—only pulling off of him when your fluids were a messy mixture between my thighs and you could barely walk to the bathroom on wobbly legs.

it didn’t even cross your mind when a month and a half later, you’re a mess of hormones and continuous morning sickness that threatens to knock you out from work for a couple days. john tells you it’s fine, that he’ll work some more late nights to cover your income for a couple days, but you’re determined to keep working.

only after nearly fainting at your home one morning (after john fucked you through at least 2 orgasms) did you find yourself on the doctor’s examination table, fingers nearly snapping john’s hand bones in half when he read off the positive pregnancy result.

and when your daughter is born nine months later (december 14th, by the way—a sagittarius baby), you’re curled up in the hospital bed with john holding you closely, the baby sandwiched comfortably between you two and grappling at one of his thick fingers.

“y’know how long i’ve been waiting for this?” you giggle out softly as you nose against john’s beared jaw, eyes fluttering closed and system overflowing with painkillers and endorphins. “guess you were finally home long enough to actually put a baby in me this time.”

[monstersflashlight]

A/N: This is a longer version of this story and it’s purely self-indulgent (like 99% of my stories lol). Enjoy!

Set up by a baby-orc

Orc x fem!reader || sfw, meet-cute, possibly soulmates

There was a little orc pulling at your hand, taking you with him to the door. "Come on, teacher, come with me." You let him drag you out, chuckling at his insistence.

He was such a cute kid, you knew you shouldn’t have favorites, but some kids made your heart all soft because they were just so fucking cute. And the tiny orc dragging you to the door was one of them. He was so shy when the school started, and in only a month he’d come out of his shell so much you couldn’t be anything but proud.

"Where to? I have job to do, hon, the other kids might need me," you tried, amused at his antics. But he wasn’t having any of that, grabbing your hand stronger and pulling until you follow after him with a laugh.

"You need to meet him!" He insisted, pulling harder and making you wince internally. Baby monsters had an amazing amount of strength even when tiny, you had to remind them to be careful with the humans, especially with you. Ouch.

"Who?" You asked, genuinely curious, following along with him out of the school and into the little patio where the parents and guardians could wait until the little ones were ready to go.

"My uncle!" He exclaimed, pointing across the patio with his tiny chubby green hand. You walk next to him for a few more steps before you look up.

You were about to tell him you couldn't get out of the school when you looked up and faces the prettiest orc you've ever set your eyes on. He was looking at you with the same level of amazement, and something inside of you just... knew.

You walked like a zombie next to the baby orc, not even registering what he was babbling about next to you as he pulled you along until you were right in front of him. You had to look up, and up, and up to be able to stare at his face, but you felt like it was too much, too soon, and ended up looking back down to the baby who was still talking animatedly.

“I told you she was human! Look! Look! Her skin is not green!” He sounded so excited you couldn’t do anything but laugh as his uncle blushed in the greenest green, making him look impossibly cute, probably even cuter than his nephew.

“I can see that,” he said in a low voice, so deep and so growly that made you want to press your legs together. You bite your lip not to giggle when his eyes fixated on you. He had such dark eyes you felt like he could see into your soul, and when he focused his sole attention on you for a fraction of a second, you felt your heart-beat spiking, your mouth suddenly very dry.

“Isn’t she pretty? She doesn’t have tusks like me!” He says it as if that’s such a feat and you have to cover your mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“Yours will grow eventually, though,” he explained, kneeling on the floor so he was closer to the kid’s height even if that’s not near close to the baby sized orc. He was on his knees and he still was a couple centimeters taller than you. Your inner size queen was screaming very loudly.

“They will?!” The baby sounded so shocked that you choked on your saliva trying to avoid laughing.

“Yes, hon, yours will grow until they are as big as your uncle’s,” you explained, touching his head affectionately.

You tried to avoid looking at his uncle, but every time you caught a sight of him on the corner of your eye you felt a shiver ran down your spine. You were shivering with the need to touch him, even if it was just a poke in the cheek, and you had to physically close your hand to avoid doing exactly that.

You didn’t know what was with him or why you were feeling like only looking at him, took all the air out of your lungs, but you were giddy and shy about it. You didn’t know what to do or what to say. “I should go back to the kids,” you let out, breathless after looking at him for less than ten seconds.

“Yeah. Yes. I guess so.” You were walking back to the school when he said behind you: “I’ll be seeing you again… that’s a promise,” his gruff tone made you shiver as you smiled as big as the sun, not daring to turn around and look at him one last time.

But when you were about to enter, you turned around slightly and saw him still on his knees, looking intently at his nephew as the baby told him something. He looked up and your eyes met, and your breath got caught in your throat, your heart beating fast and your face flushed. He smiled at you with his beautiful tusked mouth, and you almost had to fan yourself, smiling back as you ran inside, your hand on your chest trying to calm your frantic heart.

Maybe the kid had a point about meeting his uncle.

A/N: Let me know if you want a part 2 of this, if enough ppl is interested I’ll write it.

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🧸 bows and bottles ౨ৎ

pairing: girldad!megumi x wife!reader

summary: megumi had been shocked by you multiple times this year. finding out you were pregnant? a shocker. with a girl though? even more shocking. good thing he was a natural.

tags: pet names, pregnancy, afab!reader, domestic au, marriage, insecurities, fluff

(a/n: another lovely ask by @lexiene !! i think every jjk character is a girldad personally )

those two lines you showed to him changed the course of his life.

he was nervous sure, but you being there always calmed him down. he examined the rest of the items you'd placed in the gift box one by one, noting the gender-neutral clothing.

"you don't know the gender yet?"

"no silly! i'm only like.. a month. i think i have to be eighteen weeks or something to know."

"oh, okay."

"are you hoping for a gender?" you asked, moving your legs to face him on the couch.

"no, as long as they're healthy." he answered honestly, though the thought of having a girl did make him feel a bit nervous.

"hm, okay."

the weeks working up to the appointment you'd made were nerve wracking for megumi. you'd only been suffering mild symptoms of nausea and fatigue, so he'd been at your hand and feet most days.

the months had passed and your bump had grew. he'd been an angel for you, never letting you complain for more than a couple seconds. he'd wake up in the middle of the night and cook for you if you needed, he just wanted you and his kid to be safe.

as he drove to the appointment, reality set into him. you were having his baby, and they were going to find out the gender right now.

but an idea struck you in the car. "hey, how about we have them keep it a secret? we can have a fun little gender reveal party."

he physically slumped at the idea, relaxing a bit. "yeah, sounds good. but a small party, gojo is way too much of a lightweight for a huge one like last time."

you laughed at the memory, looking out the window as you held megumi's hand close to your thigh.

the visit at the doctor's was quick, they put the results of the ultrasound into an envelope for you two, and let you take home dozens of copies of the scans.

you went home content, smiling brightly as you looked over the pictures.

"they have your nose." you said out of the blue.

"you can't even tell that, it's a scan."

"yes i can."

"whatever you say."

the next week you had a small get together with some of your friends and megumi's. you wore a plain white dress since you didn't mind if it was a boy or a girl, and megumi wore a white button-up.

gojo wore a pink shirt, and argued with yuuji who was wearing a blue shirt.

nobara was carrying bags and bags of baby supplies, but was also wearing a pink shirt.

nanami was there holding a small gift box, he wore a white button-up with a pink tie.

they, along with some of your family, all held up confetti poppers. at the count of three they blew them up, pink confetti flying everywhere.

as gojo and nobara high fived each other, cheering at how they were right, you and megumi hugged eachother.

you now were able to go crazy, making everything really cute and pink for your little daughter. bows and bunnies scattered her nursery, pink flowers painted all over the walls.

cute rugs and rocking chairs, even her crib got a princess canopy.

nobara had gotten you the cutest little dresses and shoes, in the tiny box nanami had gotten for your baby girl it was little earrings. pure gold with a gemstone of her assumed birthmonth.

the months passed by really quickly, megumi kept his missions to a minimum so he could stay clung to your side.

he was a saint like always, holding your bump up for you to give you a few moments of relief, massaging parts of your body, he'd always be there for you.

but your little girl was stubborn and refused to come out. when he thought you were sleeping he'd speak to her, ask her nicely to come out tomorrow, speak about how excited he was to see her.

after a couple nights of that and morning walks? your water broke. he grabbed the overnight bag and made it to the driveway, only to realize..

he forgot you. oops.

picking up an annoyed you, he made it to the car and drove as fast as he could safely.

you delivered your baby safely, megumi thinking his wrist was going to snap from how hard you had it in your grip. he rolled his eyes though, because you were right.

she did have his nose. and his hair color, and his eyes. but she had your skin color, your lips, your eyebrows.

she was adorable.

she slept the whole day, not waking up unless she was woke up by you or him. she was an angel. barely ever crying.

he was relieved to find that she had your demeanor, your expressiveness that was more than just a straight demeanor most of the time.

he was the happiest when he looked into her and saw you, features of you that worked so harmoniously with his.

she was perfect.

she definitely had a favorite. spoiler alert: it wasn't you.

she always giggled when megumi was around, her first word was papa, much to your dismay. she clung to him all day, he was a natural at everything after all.

whenever he'd go on missions she'd cry, him having to call you just so she could fall asleep.

when she became a toddler? she'd run to the door to greet him everytime he'd come back. staying up past her bedtime just to see him.

but always passing out in his arms, wanting to stay by his side as she slept.

he'd do her hair once it was long enough. she begged and begged for him to learn how to braid, and after much consultation he learned.

he was there with her when she got her ears pierced, holding her hand as the needle went through her ear. it didn't hurt, but the numbing sensation felt weird. she wore the golden earrings she was gifted 5 years ago with pride, almost convincing megumi to get his ears pierced too.

almost.

she had him wrapped around her finger, doing anything she wanted whenever. if she wanted a toy she had it the next day. she wanted to go somewhere? let's start planning a family trip.

he taught her how to read patiently, grabbing any number of baby books to help her piece together the words, clapping together when she read a page successfully.

they shared a sweet tooth, so most of time he'd 'sneak' her snacks. candy, lollipops, chocolate, cupcakes, they'd share them together and laugh because they thought you didn't notice.

they were like two peas in a pod, they acted exactly the same sometimes. shed repeat his sentences, the way he walked, and even his facial expressions.

she clung to you just as much though, don't get it confused. she loved your attention on her as much as he did, scrunching her face when you two kissed in front of her. her using her body to push you away and 'reprimand' megumi.

he loved his girls so much, he didn't think life could get any better than being sandwiched in between the two of you while you watched random movies in the living room.

but it magically did, when for his birthday he was gifted baby socks. "are you joking?" he said, hugging you both tightly.

"those are too small for him!"

"they aren't for him sweetheart."

with another baby girl on the way, and his two treasured ladies right beside him, he definitely thinks he was born for this.

to stand by all of your sides, forever.

[cuppajoel]

Hey!

If you're reading this, you're probably wondering where this random Joel Miller blog came from- and I don't blame you.

My name is Rae, I'm 26, and I consume a lot of media. Over the past 9 months, I have been lurking in the shadows (on AO3), kindle in hand, reading and adoring the series' that many of you have created.

Over the past month or so, I have found myself dipping into Tumblr more and more and what I've found is some of the most intricate, thought-out, warm, and passionate pieces I've ever read. As someone who consumes a lot of words for a living, I have been truly astounded.

It's through you guys that I have read not only about my one true love, Joel Miller (in all incarnations), but also branched out to other characters in the P.P. fandom.

Notable mentions go to: Mando, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, General Acacius (jfc), Frankie bby, Dieter Bravo to name but a few...

Anyway, the point of this post is to say, thank you for the amazing work that the creators in this sphere are doing. I was in a reading slump for a good couple of years you have helped me find my love of reading again. <3

The sole purpose of my blog is to keep a record of what I'm reading (y'all I've been trying to keep tabs just by liking masterlists and it's getting outta hand lmao) and, if you're interested, give some recommendations of fics that I've been reading and loving.

I also wanted to give a quick shoutout to some of the accounts of the fics that I have been pining after for the past while. I do not claim to be the first one to come across these series'. I am well aware that it's not just me jumping on the bandwagon, but truly jumping on the Boeing 747 with the thousands of others that love your work.

Regardless, some special mentions go to:

@punkshort -Every joel miller fic you've written? I've read twice through. I'm so excited for the next chapter of Swept Away. @hellishjoel (brat tamer joel is beautiful) @fuckyeahdindjarin -You started my love affair with Dieter and Jack. I actually cannot explain the way that Joel in Seams made me blush @almostfoxglove - I think about See you at Three daily. I'm really excited to read your other series! @juletheghoul -Joel the menace is on my mind always. @covetyou - your ideas are so imaginative and such a breath of fresh air @tightjeansjavi - I started reading The Rite of Movement yesterday and its all i can think about @whocaresstillthelouvre Joel Miller fics with Taylor Swift titles? i can die happy tbh @chloeangelic (All fics on A03) @5oh5 From EDEN??? Thats all. (jk i love your other stuff too but from Eden is something else) @hier--soir every joel fic you've written is *Chefs kiss*

There are many, many more recommendations I could give and I am working my way through my over-saturated 'likes' so I can create a well organised 'recommendations' post.

I could honestly spend hours, picking your brains and gushing over the work that you guys have created but for now, I am going to reel myself in, say hi and thank you.

[jogetsobsessed]

Dominos (Part 2 of The Prophecy) - Paul Lahote x reader

Could technically be read as a stand-alone!

I'm so sorry for the long wait for this, I simply could not figure out what I wanted to do. Also, the two OC characters are simply random and are just there as space fillers (but I did choose the name Evan from 911 #wewillgetbuddie). P.S. This has a lot of dialogue and I don't know how to properly write dialogue so oopsie.

My present to all of you for hitting 200 followers!!

Always enjoy, I hope this lived up to all your expectations!

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

It hurt for a long time.

It felt like you were drowning and that you were never going to be able to surface. Life was moving in slow motion, as you grappled with the sudden change in your life. 

You lost everything. 

Everything important to you was gone. Your friends, your support system, the man who you loved. People tried to reach out at first. Emily and Kim called you every day for weeks, but after a while, the calls stopped coming. Embry and Quil both texted you, checking to see how you were doing and if they could help anyway, but like the calls you ignored the texts. 

You felt pathetic. 

They all felt bad for you and you know it. They knew how in love you were with Paul and they were all witnesses to the tragic ending. And you hated it. 

Hated how people would look at you. You felt that you couldn't go anywhere without someone looking at you with sympathy in their eyes. And you could only take that for so long. 

So after months of hiding in your bedroom and wallowing in your despair, you decided to make a change. You were going to do something for yourself. Something that was going to be hard, one of the hardest decisions you had ever had to make. 

You found an apartment 250 miles away. Growing up you had made the almost five-hour car ride to Portland, Oregon a couple times a year, so you knew that you liked the city well enough. It was a massive change, going from small-town living to city life. But it's what you need. Being somewhere where no one knew you, where no one knew about the unnatural life that the people of the tribe lived. It was your chance to live a normal life. 

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

Normal life suited you well. 

The move had been hard at first, you left behind your parents and the few friends outside of the pack that had still been in contact with. It took a while for you to start feeling like yourself again. But that's because you didn't know who you were without Paul. Moving to Portland was a chance for you to find who you were. 

Six months after you moved you experienced your very own meet cute. 

It happened at work, you had blindly reached out to hit the button for the elevator when your hand met someone else's. Quickly your phone was away from your face and you looked up and swore you almost swooned.  

His name was Evan. 

The company he worked for had just opened up a Portland office and was renting space on the third floor. You told him you worked on the seventeenth floor when he had asked and watched the number seventeen light up. Immediately he started a conversation. It was small talk, you told him that you also had not been in Portland long and chose the simple way out by saying that a long-term relationship ended so you wanted a fresh start. 

It hadn't occurred to you that he never got off on the third floor. 

He rode up to the seventeenth floor just to talk to you. And once the elevator stopped and the doors started to open he asked you out. He insisted that he needed a tour guide to find the best ramen that Portland had to offer. 

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

5 years later 

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

“And after that the rest is history”, you laughed as you felt Evans's arm slightly squeeze your waist in affection. 

You wouldn't believe where you were, back home in Forks. You had managed to avoid it since you left because your parents moved down to just outside of Portland after they realized that your move was permanent. 

Your engagement to Evan had come just over a year after you met him. After swearing up and down that after Paul you were never going to let yourself love someone again you found yourself drowning in the love that you had for Evan. And when he got down on one knee you didn't even let him finish what he was saying before you were throwing yourself in his arms shouting ‘yes’. 

But your parents hadn't moved down until you Facetimed them a year after your wedding holding up ultrasound photos. They screamed and cried tears of joy, they were going to get to be grandparents. You hadn't told them everything that had happened with Paul but they knew enough. They knew that he had broken your heart and now saw how your husband was putting it back together piece by piece. They saw how happy you were. 

And you are happy. 

You were getting everything that you wanted, everything that he had promised you. 

Marriage, a big house with a white picket fence, and children.

That’s why when you received an invite to Emily and Sam’s wedding you gladly accepted. There was no reason for you not to go, you learned a long time ago that letting the thought of Paul control your life was no way to live. If after all these years Emily still sent you an invite obviously she wanted you here. 

So here you were, standing with Jared, Kim, Embry, and his imprint Ava. Kim had just about burst into tears when she saw you sitting with Evan and your son in the back of the ceremony. She was standing beside Emily at the altar and you could have sworn she almost ran back down the aisle to scoop you in her arms. And that's what she did as soon as Sam and Emily were announced as Mr and Mrs Uley. 

There was so much catching up to do, that was evident. Five years of not talking to one of your best friends, especially at the stage of life all of you were in. You could see it in all of their eyes when you introduced Evan to them that they approved, it was almost a look of relief like they were glad that you had been able to move on after everything that had happened. You had both apologized for not inviting each other to your weddings but that could be forgiven. Especially when you both realize that you had young sons. Her and Jared’s son is three and your son is almost two. 

The two of them quickly got along and were off playing in the designated kid's area of the field where the reception was being held. You were having so much fun laughing with old friends and introducing your husband to everyone that you almost didn't catch the moment she walked by. 

Rachel Black had her arm hooked through the extended arm of some man, one that you recognized but didn't know quite where from. All you knew was that it wasn't him. 

Embry was the first to clock your glance. He followed your gaze and quickly noticed who you were looking at.

“Who the hell is that?” 

You had cut Jared off in the middle of his story about getting thrown out of the Mariners game and saw his eyes bug out of his head when he followed your gaze. She moved carefree throughout the wedding, stopping to say hi to people here and there as she and her mystery man made their way to a table near where her father was talking to Chief Swan. 

“Her fiance”, Kim mumbled over the rim of her champagne glass. 

“What!”, you were definitely louder than you had meant to be, guests nearby turning to look at you and your friends. Sheepishly you gaze at them all, a smile wincing at the sudden onset of attention. 

“It’s a long story Y/N”, Embry said pleadingly. He did not want to get into this right now, you know he didn't. However, there is absolutely no way for you to let this go. 

The woman who had unintentionally wrecked your relationship was now hanging off the arm of another man. And now you were wondering if that's why you hadn't seen the said man at all tonight. As far as you know he’s still one of Sam’s best friends, not that you cared to double-check. 

One look from you Embry’s way was enough for him to huff and motion to an empty table a little further away from the impromptu dance floor. Pulling your husband behind you, you marched your way over plopping down on one of the empty chairs. 

“I’m gonna go check on our boy”, Evan said, emphasizing the word as he kissed the top of your head and started to cross the field. You knew what he was doing, he was making everything easier. You were sure that your old friends had assumed that you had let Evan in on the pack's secret (which you had after you had gotten engaged). But you figured that he thought they would want to talk as freely if he was around. That's why you love him so much, he knew how to read a room and understood the special circumstances surrounding your past relationship and the baggage that followed you because of it. 

After everyone else had made it back to the table, barring Ava who had gotten swept into a conversation with Leah and her mom, you shot them all looking waiting to see who was going to start. 

“They got married…six months after you moved” 

This information was shocking, I mean Paul had always been one to move fast, but six months? 

“And everything was okay for a while. They seemed like they were really in love”, you flinched at Jared's words and Kim, noticing your actions, slapped her husband's chest with the back of her hand, rolling her eyes at his carelessness. Jared however wasn't phased and kept going. 

“And then the fighting started. It was small things at first, we would see them bicker when walking up the steps at Em’s, or when Paul phased we could hear him replaying their argument over what to have for dinner the night before”. 

He paused, taking in a deep breath, resting his hand on top of Kim’s where she had it laid on the table in front of her. Lucky for him Embry decided to take pity on his brother and cut in. 

“Y/N things got bad. Paul and Rachel both have very strong ummm…personalities”. He chuckled nervously as he bit his lip. You knew this made him uncomfortable and part of you felt bad for making him tell you all of this but you needed to know. You needed to know for the sake of knowing, it's not like anything in your life was gonna change because of it. Happiness had finally found you, and part of you felt bad that Paul’s had only been temporary, even though he had shamed your heart. 

“The small fights turned into screaming matches, and they weren't always private. And umm at some point the screaming escalated to the two of them breaking things. Rachel would throw glasses and beer bottles and such and Paul broke one too many kitchen chairs for them to keep replacing them”. 

“Eventually we had to step in, I mean the boys had to physically step in Y/N”, Kim cut in, the look in her eyes telling you that she was reliving the drama. “Sam, Jared, and Embry let themselves into Paul and Rachel's place one day when he was home and she wasn't and they had to drag him kicking and screaming out of there practically”. 

“It's not like he was abusive, it 's just that they are both so damn toxic”. Jared chuckled as he struggled to describe what it was like watching their relationship from start to finish. 

The three of them filled you in on specific instances of when the crazy started to show, while also reiterating how sorry they felt for how they handled everything that night years ago. 

“So where is he now?”, you blurted out. The wine finally made your head feel a little fuzzy and your filter started to thin. This question caught them off guard, the three of them exchanging awkward glances back and forth. 

“I don't know, none of us do. He was supposed to be here but since last night it's been radio silence. No one has heard a word from him”, Embry said. 

----------

You felt like you were being watched. 

After finishing your conversation with your friends the four of you walked over to where the kids were running around. Evan and Ava had been making small talk as they gave the four of you space. 

And now as you watched your friends interact with your son and husband you were trying to have a good time and appreciate the moment. 

But you couldn't, because someone was watching your every movement. 

You tried to brush it off, but the longer the night went on you could still sense it. Trying your best to act nonchalant you looked at the outskirts of the field and just beyond the tree line. You didn't want to worry anyone, especially your husband. Evan was having such a good time, he and the boys got along well and you knew that as soon as you got back home he was gonna start bugging you to come back up here. 

You were scanning the tree line again when you saw something or someone. And as you squinted to get a better look your heart stopped beating. 

Paul. 

He was hidden (not very well) in the trees, just past the makeshift dance floor. He looked disheveled, his pants and partially unbuttoned white shirt were wrinkled and slightly dirty, no doubt from spending the entire night stalking from the trees. 

He looks different from the last time you saw him, he looks…older maybe? No longer clean-shaven, some scruff was clear even from where you stood. Lines and marks litter his face and his eyes. Oh, his eyes look so tired. 

His body stiffened when the two of you made eye contact and he realized that he had been caught. But he didn't skitter away like a scared animal when you excused yourself from your group, promising your husband that this should only take a minute. 

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

You couldn't believe it, here you were face to face with the man who you swore up and down that if you ever saw again you would kill. But here you were, face to face with him and you couldn't even think of anything to say. 

Because the thing is you weren't mad at him anymore.

No, you felt bad for him. 

You had everything and he had nothing. 

He looked like a scared little boy as he stood before you messing with his fingers, something you remember him doing to try and relax. Gone was the macho-man personality. He looked embarrassed. 

“Hi”, his voice was shy, even more unlike him than acting embarrassed. 

“What do you want Paul?” he startled at your tone but you didn't care. You weren't going to give him the time of day. This conversation was not between two old friends catching up after now seeing each other for a few years. No, you were having this conversation out of necessity and necessity only. 

“I just wanna talk, it's been a while”. 

“Yeah I know, last time we talked you dumped me over text and when I went to try and talk to you about it hours later you didn't even look phased. Already cuddled up to your imprint”, you made sure to lace your words with venom, you wanted to make it hurt. Make him relive his actions and decisions. 

His nostrils flared at your last word. He hated being reminded of her, of that bond that they still shared. The stupid bond that had ruined his life. The same bond he thought had ruined your life. But seeing you here, walking hand in hand with a man, a small child in your arms he realized he had been wrong. 

The only thing that had gotten Paul through all his fights with Rachel and all the time he spent alone after was the thought of you. How after he worked through everything he could get you back. Paul knew how devastated you had been. He had never told anyone but he knew you were there that day at Emily’s. He knew you had started up the porch and decided to put his arm around Rachel, to send you a message. 

In some sick way, that thought of you being alone and missing him got him through the darkness. But now he realized that he had been wrong. 

You hadn't spent the past five years moping around and waiting for him to confess his love for you. The love for you which almost killed him. He had tried to shove it down, he had been blessed with an imprint, and he should be happy. 

But that wasn't the case. 

He hated himself for it, dragging Rachel into the mess that was his life. Because she wanted him to love her, she wanted a happy marriage and a long life with Paul. And that's what Paul thought he wanted. The bond did make Paul feel for Rachel, he wanted to protect and keep her safe. He didn't want to see her sad. But those feelings didn't stop his love for you. 

You had become the center of their marital problems. 

Hundreds of miles away, completely moved on and completely oblivious to the stake that you held in their relationship. 

Rachel learned very quickly that she wasn't the only woman Paul loved. And she had tried to live with it for a while. Growing up she had learned how special it was to be an imprint for one of the shifters. It was devastating to realize that she would never get that from Paul. 

And after a while of trying to make it work and a little intervention from their friends, they called it quits. She had moved on, meeting someone who truly loved her and could put her first. 

Paul however hadn't. 

“I’m sorry about that Y/N. I just wanna…” 

“You wanna what Paul? I’m not playing these games, it's late and I don't wanna spend the rest of the night arguing with you, because guess what we have nothing to argue about anymore because we are nothing”

“Don't say that Y/N”

“Don't say what Paul said? Don't say that we are nothing, are you crazy? Like generally have you lost your damn mind?” 

“Y/N I love you and I know you still have to feel the same, I know how upset you were after we broke up”, his voice cracked as he pleaded with you. And you couldn't help but laugh. 

“We didn't break up Paul, you dumped me…over text. Five years ago might I add, and you really must have lost it. I’m fucking married Paul, I have a child with a man that I love, someone who isn't like you, he isn't a coward”. 

“No, no don't say Y/N, please”, he was begging now. Full-on begging. 

“Paul I have nothing to say to you because I’m not going to say anything that you wanna hear. I don't love you”. 

Time seemed to stop at your admission. 

The forest seemed to be still, the soft breeze dying down and the rusting of the animal inhabitants went silent. And the light from Paul's very sad eyes seemed to dim even more if that was even possible. He truly had spent all this time that you still loved him and believed that the two of you could happen again. 

What happened next was something you could have never predicted, not after knowing Paul for as long as you had. 

He dropped to his knees, blubbering like an infant and pleading with you. 

“Y/N please, we can make this work I know we can. Just give me one more chance, I still love you”. 

He was making a scene. People were starting to notice the distressed man at your feet as he sobbed into his hands pleading with you to come back to him. Luckily Jared noticed the mumbling of some people near him and immediately saw what was happening. 

“Shit”, he muttered under his breath as he grabbed a fistful of Embry’s suit jacket to pull him with him as they took off jogging trying to act nonchalant. This was still their friend's wedding and there was no chance they would let Paul and his inability to get a hold of his emotions ruin it. 

The rest of the pack spotted the incident and quickly jumped into action. Sam had noticed what was happening and was putting all his trust in his friends to handle it, the last thing he wanted for Emily’s day to be ruined. 

“Come on buddy, I think you need to calm down”, Jared told Paul as Jacob helped him pull Paul off the ground. Paul was still breaking down, it was like the floodgates had broken. Every emotion that he had buried for so long was just pouring out of him. It was hard for the pack to watch as one of their own, someone who was normally so stoic and cocky completely broke. 

“No, stop, I'm not going anywhere. She’s not listening”, he protested, trying to shove off the various sets of hands trying to control him.

“I think she's listening perfectly fine Paul, I mean come on man, she has a husband. This isn't new news”. Seth said from his spot next to you, his body slightly angled in front of yours, ready to defend if Paul lost control and shifted. 

“But I still love her”, he wailed. The boys were shoving him back now, deeper into the forest, for the sake of the wedding but also partially for his dignity. 

And that was the last you saw of him, getting half-carried, thrashing around like an angry toddler sobbing as he disappeared into the woods. 

Once he was gone you couldn't hold it in anymore. It was your turn to sob. 

Even after all the pain and suffering he had put you through you hadn't wanted to hurt him like that. Seeing someone usually so strong shatter and at your words devastated you. 

You don't know how long you stood there before Kim darted in front of you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. 

It's confusing, you didn't know why you were crying. You had no reason to feel bad after what he had done to you and everything you had said was true, after everything he had done even if you weren't happily married you wouldn't get back with him. However, you felt so guilty, like you had been the one to ruin his life, even though Paul had made his decision. 

Paul had been the one to knock down the first domino and start the chain reaction. He had made his bed and now he has to lie in it. 

However, while you knew all this to be true you couldn't help but call out to him, you knew he was listening, wherever they had carried him to. 

“I’m sorry Paul, I’m so sorry”. 

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

blobsblobican (you asked to be tagged in part 2!)

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic Preview

A sneak peek of the next chapter of Come Away, O Human Child

He meets Shannon at the same restaurant they decided to end their marriage in less than a month ago.

It’s strange…he’s well aware of just how drastically your life can change in a short amount of time. How drastically everything can change in an instant. He’s had his own share of moments that changed everything—split seconds where the before and after were entirely different lives. Meeting Shannon. Her telling him she was pregnant. Holding Christopher for the first time. Getting shot down in Afghanistan.

Walking into the 118.

Meeting Buck.

He knows how drastically your life can change in a short amount of time, but Christopher’s birth is the only thing that has ever made him feel so much like a different person. He’s not the same man that he was the last time he and Shannon sat down together to talk. Shannon seems to sense it, watching him with sharp, curious eyes as they place their orders.

“How’s apartment hunting going?” he asks as soon as the runes woven into the fabric of the tablecloth flash blue and their drinks appear a moment later.

“Good. I’ve got it narrowed down to a couple of places—if you don’t mind, I’d like to sign Chris out of school early this Friday and take him with me for the walkthroughs. I want him to have a say in where he’ll be staying when he comes to visit. Thought we could take the weekend to see some of the sights, maybe get a fancy hotel room?”

Eddie nods, mentally flicking through the calendar of appointments and plans he has over the next few days. Chris has a doctor’s appointment early next week, but there’s nothing pressing. “Yeah, of course—he’ll love that.”

Shannon smiles at him, taking a sip of her drink and leaning back in her seat. She looks good—relaxed and happy in a way she really hasn’t been the last few months. He wonders if she sees the same in him, and it makes his heart ache for both of them. Trying so hard to do the right thing and just hurting themselves and each other doing it. And isn’t that just the story of their entire relationship?

“I’m glad things are going good for you,” he says, and sincerely means it. Shannon’s smile widens, and it strikes him how very much their son looks like her. He sees more of himself in Chris’s mannerisms and expressions, but in looks, he’s practically Shannon made over.

“Thanks, Eddie,” she says, and then tilts her head with that shrewd look that has always made him feel like no one would ever know him as well as this woman does. He knows that’s not true, now. Buck knows him every bit as well as Shannon ever did…knows him better in some ways, understands him on levels that Shannon was never able to reach no matter how hard she tried.

But Shannon knew him first. She will always be the first person who looked and saw him, he thinks.

“But I’m guessing you didn’t ask to meet up just to tell me you’re happy for me?” The runes on the tablecloth light up again, and they both sit back as their steaming plates appear—mushroom risotto for Shannon, salmon and asparagus for him. He stalls a moment by grabbing his fork and poking at the (perfectly done) fish before shrugging and nodding.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I’ve, uh, got something I want to talk to you about.”

Shannon raises an eyebrow at the serious tone of his voice. “Okay,” she says slowly.

“So, I know we haven’t really talked about, uh, how we want to handle it if…when…we want to maybe introduce someone. To Chris. Someone new.”

The other eyebrow shoots up, surprise and something a little hurt flashing across Shannon’s face. “You’ve already met someone?” she asks. “And you want to introduce them to our son? Eddie, we’re not even divorced yet!”

And oh…oh, yeah, okay, it sounds bad when she says it like that. “No! No, not like that—” He breaks off with a heavy sigh. “It’s…complicated,” he finishes lamely. Confusion joins the surprise and the hurt, and Eddie mentally throws his hands up. “It’s someone Christopher already knows—someone we see all the time. Nothing was going on while you and I were still…anyway, it’s new. For both of us. But I don’t want to try and sneak around Chris when we see this person so much. But we already talked about it, and we don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You’re his mom, Shan—you get a say in this.”

Shannon’s brow furrows, and she tilts her head slightly. “Who is it?” she asks.

“It’s Buck,” he says simply.

It surprises him a little, actually, how easy it is to say. They’ve kept it totally between them, this new…development in their relationship, agreeing that they don’t want to throw anymore hand grenades into their lives until everyone knows about Buck’s curse, and why he can’t try and get his magic back. They’d also agreed that Chris needs to know before anyone else in their immediate circle, and that Shannon needs to be a part of that conversation. It should feel bigger, he thinks, more momentous, telling someone else for the first time, let alone his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Like everything with Buck, though—every damn thing—Eddie finds that it just…fits. It’s easy, when it comes to Buck. The truly important things are always easy.

Shannon’s jaw actually drops, and she stares at him wide-eyed for a few seconds, before abruptly shaking her head. “Okay…is it weird that that’s not even in the top fifty of things I thought you were going to say and completely unsurprising?”

[magnusmodig]

yeah i'm one spoon away from setting the ends of my hair on fire if i'm kindling for a little while at least i'll feel of use... promise me that you'll start where i end and i promise to give you everything that i am and it goes on, and on, and on... we'll go on and on and on in the end all i hope for is to be a bit of warmth for you when there's not a lot of warmth left to go around.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Mattresses, unbeknownst to many, are a lot like cars. Every year new ones roll out, they’re always tweaking and innovating and you’ll never find the same one you loved decades ago when buying a new one.

Where I sold mattresses had a three month return or exchange program for this reason. New beds take a while to break in, and they’re a big expense. Your body is used to the old one. So we made sure people were loving it. If a bed got returned we’d take it back, sanitize and clean it, then sell it again on clearance.

To sell these we always had to disclose what clearance meant to customers, and they had to sign that they knew what they were getting. (FYI, not every company is as… forthright about the used bed situation)

In clearance we had beds that were floor models, we had returns, and more rarely we had old models whose line had been discontinued. These clearance beds were always final sale, so a bed could only be sold twice.

Now, the manager at the store I was working at had realized a vital fact. Clearance beds in the warehouse didn’t sell, especially old models that salespeople weren’t familiar with. And even more especially in odd sizes, like twin extra longs. So he set up a split king on the showroom floor to exhibit clearance beds, pulling all those forgotten twin extra longs out onto the showroom.

Almost all of these were brand new discontinued models. Beds I’d never learned in training were exhumed to be displayed. The manufacturers had moved on to new lines and they’d been left behind. Why would he take such in interest in selling old stock, you might wonder? Because we made double commission on the sales margin of clearance beds, and if we’d had a bed long enough they dropped the cost in the system so it was a fucking cash cow to sell these. Even with huge discounts the commissions were wonderful so it was a win win.

When I got started I was jazzed about this program, I was so on board to sell weird old brand new beds and make a ton of money. I had a wonderful older couple come in, looking for a split king adjustable set. This was a white whale sale.

The current clearance models on the floor were a latex mattress that was brand new despite being of an age to start first grade, and a tempurpedic floor model. The couple laid down and it was like magic. They each loved the bed they’d laid down on. They wanted to buy the whole shebang.

I. Was. Thrilled. I told them about the clearance program and what that meant, and they weren’t bothered in the least. I wrote up the sale then dashed into the back, fizzing with excitement to tell my manager what I’d done.

“You sold the death bed?!” He asked in delight.

I pulled up short, my smile freezing in place. “What…?”

“Didn’t you check the notes?”

I hesitated for a long beat then slowly shook my head. You see, dear reader, all beds had a personal history. Every clearance bed had logs written up by the person who took the return, as well as warehouse crew after sanitizing. It helped us know what to expect when selling them. “Wasn’t it just a floor model? You said it was a floor model…”

He slowly shook his head. I checked the notes.

It turned out, it had been sold as a floor model. The first time. But the company had made an exception and taken it back as a return two months later. Why? Because it’s owner had passed away.

I stared at the computer in horror and my manager shrugged. “They signed the clearance form. Technically it was a floor model.”

“We know for a fact that a man died in that bed!”

“What they don’t know can’t haunt them,” he said philosophically.

The man came back a week later for more sheets, utterly delighted to tell me how well they were sleeping. I clamped my teeth down around the secret of the deathbed, choosing to let them love their new bed without the stigma. Only one person would be haunted by that deathbed, and it was me.

[just-a-cinnamon-bun]

Guess who’s struggling mentally because of their parents? :D

[haileys-out2]

I’ve been told to make this caption from one of my photos (yes this is me in the photo). I have no control over any of this, I’ve been told what tags to use and how long the post is to be pinned to the top of my page. 😥

The post is up for three months (until June 8) and I am scared about how long I’ll get!!

P-p-please be nice. I d-d-don’t want my life ruined!! 😭😭😭

Update. If this post hits 100 REBLOGS I have to get a larger plug and dildo.

Update 2. You are all mean (specially @count-alta with your 20-odd reblogs)😤😭😭 I now have to get a larger plug and dildo. If it gets to 300 REBLOGS then I have to make a Discord server to show that I am in fact wearing the cage and plug 😭😭😭😭 this is getting both out of control and expensive

Update 3. It hasn’t even been a week. 😢😢 I’ve been instructed to add note milestones. I’ve only been given a couple for now but more will be added if any of you suggest something my dominant likes.

Update 4. I’m back from a brief hiatus from Tumblr while I settled into a new job, and I discovered that this post really took off. I now have to make discord (coming soon) and I’ve been given a new Reblog MILESTONE. If this post reaches 500 Reblogs I will have to start HRT. If it hits 1000 Reblogs then I have to find a man to fuck me on camera 😭😭😭😭. Please be nice.

Update 5: whelp it’s done. My Discord server is live

1500 notes: I have to keep myself hairless from the nose down.

1700 notes: Make an Amazon Wishlist and add 100 toys and clothes for anyone to buy. Anyone who buys them will get a free show with what they bought

1800 notes: my hair must be grown out

2000 notes: I have to resume my BambiSleeps regimen

2500 notes: Practice deepthroating the current sized dildo twice a week

2750 notes: I now have listen to Bambi sleeps every morning, afternoon and night on my days off

3000 notes: Sit on a 7-inch dildo 2 times a week for 30 min

3250 notes: I have to start using she/her pronouns

3500 notes: I have start wearing a bra everyday

3750 notes: Use a large plug now

4000 notes: I have to start an OF (ManyVids and webcamming as well once I find a better living arrangement)

4250: I have to film myself suck cock

4500 notes: i can only ever cum from anal

5000 notes: I can only wear androgynous clothing. Nothing overtly masculine

5100 notes: Sit on an 8-inch dildo 3 times a week for 30 min

5400 notes: Listen to Bambisleep hypno every time I do anal

6000 notes: edge with a Hitachi magic wand for 30 once a week

6500 notes: start using a ball gag whenever I do anal

7100 notes: Once a week I have to film myself anal training and share it to the discord channel

8000 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 4 times a week for 30 min

8500 notes: I must listen to ALL hypno that is sent to me

9000 notes: The Hitachi edging session becomes twice a week

12300 notes: Clicker train myself to get horny to the thought of cock

13200 notes: Use an XL plug now

13500 notes: Only use 10-inch toys from now on sit on it 6 times a week for 30 min, once a week use a 12+ inch toy

15000 notes: I have to get either bottom surgery or an orchiectomy

20000 notes: I have to be spit roasted

25000 notes: I have to be the center of a Blow Bang

32500 notes: I have to be the center of a Gangbang 😳😳😳

[friendshiptothemax]

I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.

That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”

Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can -- characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.

This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years -- if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.

Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me -- a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels -- the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form -- what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just...fucking suck.

The WGA is proposing two things to fix this -- a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.

[yawnderu]

There's only 3 people Simon follows on social media. Gaz, Soap... and a pornstar he's been obsessed with for months.

He loves coming back from missions and seeing you promoting your new content on Twitter, always getting fucked by a different person— never the same man or woman twice.

He'd be lying if he said he doesn't think he can fuck you better than the men jackhammering into you without care, or the women who keep staring at the camera rather than focusing on your lovely body. He could do it so much better, stuffing your pretty cunt full of eight inches of thick, veiny meat.

Warm water runs down his body as he rubs his throbbing cock, calloused hands toying with the angry, red tip before he smears it all over his shaft, almost cumming at the wet sound that rings around the shower when he jerks off again.

His leaking precum sticks to his hand, begging him to keep going while he scrolls down your Twitter. Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to stay open when he sees a new photo of you, groaning at the way your bright smile overpowers the thick cum smeared all over your lovely tits, looking so proud of finishing another man off and getting marked.

His boner is almost painful at this point. He's sure his arm is going to get a cramp after this, but he's too far gone to care.

Simon's fantasies run wild as he keeps scrolling and liking your new content. He's barely lucid enough to register the newest video, looking at the skimpy clothing you're wearing being ripped off by an older man, cock thrusting into you wildly, almost punishingly. There's nothing more lovely than your expression when you get penetrated, wide eyes looking at the camera and pretty lips turned into an "o" shape before you smile, clearly enjoying every single inch of meat stuffed into your needy cunt.

“Fuck.” His hand works faster down his shaft, the familiar tight feeling in his heavy balls returning while he lets out a low moan. A tidal wave of euphoria hits him when his half-lidded brown eyes return to the video, muscles flexing and tensing up as he releases thick ropes of cum onto the floor, letting the water wash it away.

His hips buck uncontrollably as he squeezes the last drops of thick cum out of his cock with a couple of low groans, hand finally slowing down.

His muscles finally relax, chest rising up and down while he tries to recover from the intense orgasm. He can't help but look at the ropes of release being washed away, secretly hoping they were in you instead.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he immediately looks at it with a raised eyebrow, breath catching in his throat when he reads the notification announcing that you follow him back.

Part II | Part III

[gothgoblinbabe]

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, afab reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now. 

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week. 

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again. 

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand. 

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play. 

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie. 

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze. 

Definitely not my type of girl. 

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs. 

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly. 

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence. 

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers. 

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed. 

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing. 

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice. 

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently. 

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable. 

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more. 

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne. 

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.” 

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?” 

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people. 

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter. 

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way. 

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy 

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing. 

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him. 

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants. 

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs. 

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you. 

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time. 

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before. 

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.” 

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze. 

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately. 

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom. 

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out. 

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him. 

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?” 

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.” 

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started. 

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed. 

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name. 

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you. 

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind. 

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you. 

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top. 

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath. 

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him. 

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck. 

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck. 

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back. 

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking. 

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs. 

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name. 

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

 You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face. 

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing. 

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers. 

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?” 

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing. 

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him. 

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking. 

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist. 

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust. 

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size. 

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him. 

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress. 

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again. 

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you. 

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful. 

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip. 

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again. 

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds. 

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm. 

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be. 

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

[snekdood]

people always gotta lot to say about comic artists and about how they need to be "posting more frequently" but you sit them down and tell them to do the same shit and suddenly they're "unprepared", etc. 🙄 yknow this shit doesnt get shat out over night, right? find a hobby in the meantime while you wait, goddamn.

[gojoshooter]

HER HO!NY HUSBAND : GOJO SATORU

tw. suggestive, gojo flashes his goodies

Husband!Gojo coming out of the shower with a wet muscular body and a piece of towel hanging along his waist—only to see his wife laying on the bed right in front of him.

Pregnant Wife!Yn who had been insecure of her growing belly and weight since a couple months due to her pregnancy, watches Gojo check her from head to toe, an unexplainable look on his handsome pale face.

Sitting upright, she fixes her loose garments. Maybe he’s finally come to the realisation of not being such a big fan of my mom body.

Husband!Gojo sensing her dejected mood, snaps out of his internal thoughts as he decides to reach out and sit next to her instead.

“Baby? Something’s bothering?” he asks softly, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

Pregnant Wife!Yn ever a self-conscious overthinker, mumbles while looking up at her husband, “I saw you gazing at me few a many times now...” she fixes her garment again, in embarrassment “like... weirdly. You start looking stiff all of a sudden, as if you want to confess something. About my bad shape maybe.”

At her confession, Satoru pauses, lips parted open slightly and not sure which part to explain first. He brings a wet but comforting hand on her swollen belly.

“Silly girl. Are you worrying about your plump little adorable tummy again? I told you I like it.”

Pregnant Wife!Yn frowns, not really sure of his words. “Really? Then how would you explain everytime you stopped to stare at me? Your face doesn't seem as if you love it—or even like it, Toru.”

Husband!Gojo who shakes his head, body turning more towards her distressed wife. “I don't like it? I love you and every part of you babe, you know me.”

Yn sighs softly, looking down with an upset face. “I do... but maybe i shouldn't have asked for a baby. I just... I feel like you'd have appreciated my old body more, Toru.”

Satoru snaps his head towards her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This was his last straw. She has to know what his pregnant, innocent wife does to him.

As he stands up slowly from the edge of the bed, he makes sure she's all eyes and ears. “Oh really now. Then I must give you a real reason to never regret your baby with me...”

Undoing the towel hooked on his dripping wet waist, the white haired man reveals his lower half of the riches. As her eyes set down, there comes in view an almost fully hard wet length of Gojo Satoru.

Pregnant Wife!Yn being taken aback, is unable to react for a good few first seconds, mouth agape. Light hue of red crawls up the neck to settle on her cheeks, when her husband hums in question.

“Mm? You see this? This is what you do to me, silly girl.”

Everything seemed suddenly more reasonable—Gojo stealing those frequent long gazes, his odd body language while he checks his pregnant wife out. Gojo gets aroused.

Pregnant Wife!Yn tears her gaze away from his manhood, cold sweat making her feel more or less like her currently out of shower dripping wet husband. Oh the thoughts that might be running in his perverted brain, all the ways he could take you in and you wouldn't be moving away with all the weight you bear of his baby, but comply, and relish, and whine.

“Oh-oh...” she mumbles shyly, the revelation lessening her insecurity effectively more than all sweet words combined could have ever had.

an. husband gojo >>> also this is my 1k readers special! ty for giving my writings your time, love y'all. likes & rbs are appreciated <33

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts

[halfdeadwallfly]

thinking about my mom telling me as a kid not to pick at my acne because it would scar versus now my chest covered with marks from picking at skin that i'm still too scared to let anyone know about