NSFW - MDNI - Reader is MALE
I was thinking about horny!Logan who went too much time without your touch and was on the verge of a sexual nervous touch down. Blame all the villains or rampaging mutants who caused problems all the damn day or night.
Thinking about horny!Logan who, instead of sleeping, hugged his pillow anf bit down on it (I headcanon that he bites a lot during it) staining it with saliva and growls. You were exausted after all the day of flying around in the jet to aolve issues here and there.
Thinking about horny!Logan who tried to get himself off but just couldn't since he was always riding you out and that caused him to not be able to pleasure himself fully (not that he minded).
Thinking about horny!Logan who just couldn't take it anymore and straight up took you away from the kitchen, were you were eating some rosemary beef and dragged you into his room. He shoved you on his bed and climbed up your form biting harshly on your neck.
"Logan- fuck what the hell?!" you struggled to the heavy man of your neck, his fangs were still connected to your love bites by a string of warm saliva.
"Shut it and just stay put bub" he growled as he tossed away his jacket and sat astride, grinding firmly on your crotch.
He smirked as you planted your veiny hands on his sides and then propped yourself on your elbows.
"You have never been one for words Logan" you arched an eyebrow and smirked as your hands snaked up his torso on the tight shirt he was wearing.
"What do you really want sweetheart?" you chirped in a smug way, he was glaring at you, he never liked pet names being given to him.
He didn't spoke, he wasn't one for words and so he grinded down on your clothed crotch.
"That's what I want, make me ride you and we'll be good".
I saw someone reblog and added they would like more but with Ingo comforting reader, which gave me an idea and got me thinking, I tried getting some sadness in here so hopefully y’all enjoy! This is a part 2, so asks are open, or comments, either work, I see them and I take inspiration.
X reader but everything is platonic, Ingo is sad and so am I, Adaman loses it and Irida helps (for once!)
PART 1 can be read here
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Keep reading
something about logan howlett patching your shoulder up, his calloused hands surprisingly gentle as they stitch your wound close. he’s looming over you, eyes fixated entirely on your form. in a haze of pain, your hand reaches out to curl around his hip and roughly squeeze with a low groan, unintentionally tugging him closer to your seated position.
“you okay, bub?”
“yeah...”
there’s something about it that makes his cock throb; how your reflex is grabbing onto him, how your voice is hoarse, and fucking hell, the smell and sight of you bleeding like that... he’s never letting anyone else fix you up. and oh, he wants you to squeeze something else.
drabble about fucking logan (wolverine) because @embry-garrick implanted it into my brain
synopsis: holy shit u have a big dick n logan is having a field day
cw: riding, size kink, pain kink, reader has a huge dick, anal sex, no prep by choice, unsubstantial lube by choice, unprotected sex by choice, subtop logan dombot reader, established relationship, first time (in the relationship), 2nd person
dni minors, fems/mlm fetishizers, etc
You knew you were massive, that's why way back in high school you were pressured to join sports. You had admirers from both sexes and people would jump at the opportunity to date you in hope that you were as big down there as you were, body wise.
You were, and unfortunately scared off many potential fuck buddies with your size. You vividly remember an ex walking out mid make-out session when they saw your dick, and the situation you were in now was strikingly similar.
That train of thought was bouncing through your head like a pinball machine as you multitasked getting hot and heavy with Logan on the foot of his bed.
"You're distracted. Come on, focus, it's like kissing a brick wall," Logan complained gruffly, hands tangled in your hair as he bit playfully at your jawline to snap you out of whatever thoughts you were in.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry. Maybe we're going a little fast?" you suggested, meeting his lips again as you attempted to focus on him.
"You're fuckin' kidding me. No, we've been dating for months, I'm ready," Logan disagreed. "You got something you're worried about?"
"No," you muttered, shaking your head to get the thoughts out. You steeled yourself to focus and gripped Logan's waist to pick him up and move him into your lap. He eagerly ground down onto your quickly hardening cock, groaning into your mouth as he felt the pants you were in tighten.
Logan quickly took off his own shirt and hurried to remove yours. Once the clothing was gone, he abandoned kissing your lips to kiss your neck and moved down your collar. He sighed and his eyes fluttered closed as he felt both of your hands snake in two different directions; one down to squeeze his ass and the other up to grip his hair.
"Need you. Been waiting long enough, want you in me. Wanna ride you," he whispered into your ear.
"Logan, I'm big," you warned warily, earning a confused pause.
"Big? Damn right you are. What's your point?" he grumbled, trying to get back to imminently fucking.
"My dick is big. I've had people up and leave because of it, so—"
"Well aren't you self-assured? Babe, let me judge if I want to get fucked or not," Logan answered playfully as he pressed tender kisses over your jawline to make up for the bites. "C'mon. You think I'm shy of a big dick?"
As you tugged off his pants, he undid your button to reciprocate and froze as he stared at your half-hard cock straining the fabric of your boxers.
"What's that, six inches? I mean, I can take it," he huffed, his face a mask of bravado. He pulled your pants all the way off and swallowed. "Okay... little more than six inches..."
Logan stroked you to hardness, muttering out quiet curses and "come on, come on... fuck," as he was eager to feel you. You were completely hard in just a few strokes, but his rough hand and the lack of any lubricant made you shy from the touch.
"Logan? Lube?" You reminded, to which he growled.
"Don't need it, bub."
"Yes you do! At the very least, I need it!" You protested.
"Relax," he rolled his eyes and attempted to take you in his mouth, but instead just let some spit dribble down since he'd ravish you with his mouth later. "Happy?"
"Let me prep you."
"Hell no."
Logan pushed your shoulders to the bed and hovered over you, to which you fished in your pants for a condom. "No condom, Lo,"
"Good."
"Go get one."
"Hell no," he repeated.
"You're gonna tear yourself," you said, sitting up.
"I can take it. I can take you. Just lay down," Logan demanded, to which you scoffed.
"Fine. It's not my bed that's getting blood all over, anyways."
Logan perched over you and lined your dick up, hissing as the wet head grazed his hole. "You're gonna be the end of me..."
"Fuck... fuck! Slower!" You demanded, worrying for Logan's poor body despite the fact that he healed instantaneously.
Among the shrill gasps and low groans, Logan uttered out a gravelly, "Please, just let me have this. You're splitting me in half, fuck, [Y/n], you're gonna make me cum like a virgin."
You grabbed Logan's hips and forced him to slow down, he was barely even a third of the way down and already tears were collecting in his eyes. "Easy, Logan," you said, but he suddenly grabbed your wrists and forced himself down to the base of your cock, a punched-out moan escaping his throat followed by a series of whimpers and gasps as he caught his breath. A hot stream of cum spurted from his unattended cock and onto your chest.
"Logan? You're bleeding. And you came..."
"I don't care. Fuck me like a man," Logan rasped out as he steeled himself to begin moving his hips.
summary: four years after the flood, you move out of gotham to start anew in metropolis — the cute reporter that steals your heart is just collateral damage.
pairings: clark kent x wayne!reader, bruce wayne x sister!reader, platonic batfam x reader (no use of y/n)
all dividers by @cafekitsune!
i. one (2.2k) — One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do; two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one. Or: you're two years old when you lose your parents. Your brother, a kid himself, is unable to give you the love you deserve, and you end up at twenty being as burn out as only a Gotham University student can be. So, what do you do? Change scenery, of course.
ii. like him (tbd) — Mama I'm chasing a ghost, I don't know who he is; mama I'm chasing a ghost, I don't know where he is; mama I'm chasing a ghost, do I look like him? Or: you've never realised how much you look like your parents until the press points that out. How can you miss something that you've never had?
more chapters to be added!
"Good morning, peanut~💛"
Ketchup + Mustard = Chipotle Mayo 😮💨
Song: Blow — Ke$ha
Movie: Deadpool & Wolverine (2024)
Character(s): Deadpool & Wolverine
this is a multi-chapter fic
warnings: mentions of order 66, war (it’s star wars…), violence, loss of a mentor, injury (to reader and others)
notes: there are many original aspects to this fic, such as the names of planets, reader’s master, and their venator. some force methods in this story are original too. theory on lightsaber colors, some drawn from legends.
summary: the bad batch tells omega the story of the reader (through the memories of the reader)
A/N: i’ve been working on this idea for a few weeks now & it’s my first multi-chapter fic for tbb! there is not a set update schedule for this fic. if you would like to be tagged in this fic, fill out this form!
Prologue
Chapter 1 - Unorthodox
Chapter 2 - Attachment
Chapter 3 - Favorite Clones
Chapter 4 - Safe
Chapter 5 - Return to Coruscant
Chapter 6 - Reunited
Chapter 7 - Result of Anaxes
Chapter 8 - TBA
Chapter 9 - TBA
Chapter 10 - TBA
Chapter 11 - TBA
Main Masterlist
Synopsis. You bring Viktor home from a long day in the lab. He wakes up and finds himself needing you.
A/n. No specified gender/genitalia of reader.
Viktor ignored the small voice in his head that tried to tell him to go home. “Just a few more minutes,” he murmured aloud. His fingers tinkered with the project in front of him.
“What’d you say?”
Viktor whipped around to see your lanky build leaning against a desk. He relaxed as you tilted your head with your familiar smile. “I- I missed you, my darling,” he whispered, rising to his feet. He hobbled into your arms and felt his weight sag against you. “I didn’t realize how tired I am.”
You shushed him and carded your finger through his hair. “I’ve been telling you, V. You need to care for yourself,” you coo into his ear. He relaxes completely, leaving you steady on your feet with his freakishly tall body in your arms. “But I admit, I love taking care of you.”
Viktor exhaled shakily. “Y/n?”
You hum.
He nuzzles his face into your neck and breathes in your scent. “Will you take me home?”
“Of course, my love.”
It’s the middle of the night when Viktor wakes, arms latched onto your strong form. Visions of the dream previously flickering behind his eyelids make him pant heavily as he looks down to see his pelvis grinding down between your legs.
“Fuck,” he croaks, wrapping his arms around your neck as he degrades himself for taking advantage of you while you slept. “I’m sorry, my lover.”
Viktor’s hips move slightly fast as your hands unconsciously grip Viltor’s waist. “Y/n, please.”
You blink awake. Viktor’s pathetic humping had been the actions to wake you instead of his quiet pleads. “You’re so needy,” you inform him wryly. Your head fell back to the pillow under you. “I can’t even sleep without-“
“Y/n, I need you,” Viktor pleads, leaving kisses from your exposed neck all the way up to your eyelids. “Please give me what I need.”
Viktor’s hips stutter. His breath catches in his throat as your hands trace down his back to squeeze his ass. “You have me right here, Vik. Take what you need,” you coo in his ear.
At your breathy words, Viktor whines as he pistons his hips down. “Ple-Please y/n,” he whimpers. “Talk to me, tell me- tell me I’m yours.”
You look at the famous, world-renowned scientist in front of you and wonder how you were blessed with the ability to turn him into the pitiful, whining, horny man in front of you. “You need my voice, is that it? I love how much you need me Viktor… I love you, Viktor.” He smothers a particularly loud groan by shoving his face into your shoulder. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? You don’t need to tell me, V. I know what my good boy likes.”
Just to tease him, you buck your hips up to grind onto his core. “Y/n!” He cries out, chasing your heat. “Fuck,” he whines.
“So reactive,” you murmur absently. “You’re doing so well, Viktor, so good for me.”
“Please, y/n, I need you. I ca-I can’t cum without you.” Tears leak from his eyes as his movements turn jerky and desperate. “Help me, please.”
You click your tongue. “Oh, Vik. This is how I feel when you’re off in your lab every day and every night. I’m showing you mercy by just being here, my love,” you tell him. “If you make yourself cum right now, I promise I’ll fuck you so good you won’t know any other words than thank you,” you coo. He sinks his teeth into your flesh as he gets closer to his orgasm.
“I’m going- I’m- y/n,” Viktor rambles as his hips unceasingly grind on you. “Y/n!”
His arms tighten around you as he spills his cum into his pants. Viktor is temporarily free from the pain in his leg as his legs twitch. “I love you,” Viktor slurs in your ear, feeling you roll on top of him. “I need more…”
You pull away from him to see how pretty he looks underneath you. The moon glinted in his eyes, and his list was evident in his gaze. As your nimble fingers unbuttoned his pants, you let him pull you back down to his lips in a lazy kiss. “Insatiable,” you chide when you pull away for air.
Viktor pulls your shirt off of your body. “I just crave you. In every way, all the time, unceasingly.”
You chuckle and grasp his chin. “I love you too, Viktor.”
Pairing: Tech x Jedi!reader
Word count: 1,063
Tags/warnings: angst, grief/mourning, there's alot of signs of autism shown in Tech in this fic but less obvious ones.
Summary: After finding your name in the Imperial obituary, Tech doesn't know how to move on.
A/N: How many aura points do I lose for crying while I wrote this even though it's not that good? I was originally going to have a part two of the reader's perspective where it's reveal that oh my god you're actually alive, but I dont know whether to do that now purely because of how deeply Tech is shown to be grieving and I kinda don't want to take that away from him. Yk what I mean? But if people say they want a part 2 who am I to deny them? Also, yes, the title is based off of that one ABBA song cuz I was listening to it while I wrote this.
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The Marauder was tingling with tension. The genocide of the Jedi, the betrayal of the Empire, the loss of Crosshair and the gain of Omega all happened over the course of twenty-four hours. Everyone had their own reasons to be on edge.
Tech's mind had been on autopilot for days. As soon as he saw what Master Billaba's men did to her and how quickly Crosshair became bloodthirsty for all Jedi, time seemed to stop. He had frantically typed on his datapad to try and find an explanation for such a brutal attack. When Tech saw that it was a full fledged genocide, he swore his heart stopped beating for a second. The only thing that kept him from having a panic attack was his advanced biology.
When they got to the Marauder and fled Kamino, Tech was instantly searching the Imperial database for the list of the dead. He never thought he'd have to check an obituary to find your name, but there you were. Jedi Knight. Executed on Lothal. The reference image they used for you was haunting. To see you stood there, just so alive, with the word executed next to you was enough to make bile stir in his stomach.
It didn't feel real. Tech looked at your information in the obituary again and again and again, but his mind just couldn't process the information. He felt like the only way he could believe you were dead is if he saw your body laying before him and he could never bring himself to do that.
Everyone noticed the difference in their brother. Even Omega, who hadn't even been with them that long, noticed his irregular behaviour. His brothers were puzzled by his reaction to their new living situation. Out of all of them, Tech should be the least likely to get emotional over this. Then again, change has alway been a problem with Tech. It always takes longer for him to process things like this.
They began working for a trandoshan called Cid to do some seedy work. It was obvious why Hunter made them work for her, obvious to Tech anyway. It was because being sent out on missions that have various conditions is all they ever knew. The concept of settling down on a planet and ignoring the war raging on outside is foreign to them.
It's been ten months, three weeks and five days, since your death. Tech's behaviour hasn't changed and his siblings have assumed it's all because of Crosshair up until this point. Tech had been understanding with Crosshair on Kamino and held only mild hatred for his decision.
No. This is something else entirely.
Hunter's heart aches at seeing his brother's despair and having no idea what's making him feeling this way. Tech being Tech, will never say.
He finally snapped when one of Cid's workers, Phee, persistently kept making moves on him. Tech couldn't help the pure emotion radiating off of him in waves, as he shouted and yelled at the woman. It should be you laughing at his sarcasm, it should be you calling him pet names, it should be you with him. He just wants you and that's the one thing he can't possibly have and it hurts, it makes it feel like his heart has been ripped straight out of chest.
Tech stormed off to the Marauder which was a mistake, because everything in there reminds him of you. Your first kiss on his bunk, your late night conversations in the cockpit, your shared experiments at his desk.
He wants to scream and yell at how unfair everything is. Out of everyone in the galaxy, why you? Why did death have to take you? His perfect cyar'ika who could do no wrong and managed to cling to the little faith you had left through the most devastating battles.
Grief is something Tech has experienced only a handful of times. The feelings still feel new and uncertain and that unnerves him. Tech's emotions are usually filed away in organised compartments that only he understands. Now, everything is overflowing and overlapping. Everything is too much.
It's like a bad dream. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He wants the comfort of a familiar routine, back when his biggest concern was what days him and his cyar'ika would be on shore leave at the same time.
Tech sinks down into the far corner of the bunk room, ripping off his goggles and letting them clatter agaisnt the durasteel floor. He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins, before leaning his forehead agaisnt his kneecaps.
The last time he found himself in this position was back when he was a cadet. As much as he tried to ignore it, the regs had gotten to him. 99 had found him curled up in the corner of an embryo lab. He had said nothing at first, just sank down next to him and let him know that he was there if he needed him. Tech found himself wondering for years why he couldn't have been like everyone else, why the Kaminoans made his mind work this way. Tech would give anything to be "normal". He never asked for any of this.
A set of footsteps stomp their way up the ramp and Tech doesn't bother looking up. He's prepared for the demanding yells, the overbearing questions and the looks of outrage on his brothers' faces. What he isn't prepared for is someone sliding down the wall next to him. Tech almost flinches at the feeling of someone placing a hand on his back and tenses all the muscles in his body instantly. Eventually, his body goes back to being lax and a shaky sigh leaves Tech's lips, as he leans into his brother's side.
Tech doesn't want to talk about you to his brothers. If he talks about it, then it's real. Your body is rotting on Lothal and he'll never see you again. He can't face the reality of it. It's too real. He can't do it.
The hand on his back rubs soothing circles into his spine. I'm here, if you need me.
Someday, he will tell the tale of his beautiful cyar'ika and you'll become an honoured part of their mismatched family, even though they had never met you. You will forever live on in his heart.