meliv-el

Latest Posts by meliv-el

lewis pullman characters, and what they'd do for their first time with reader

Bob - it takes him a LONG time to get there, to make sure you and him are both comfortable, and that you both know you want this. it starts off with small touches, he would gently kiss your skin. from the crook of your neck to the inner parts of your thighs, his hands go wherever you let him - his touch his soft despite his hands being... well- big. he calls you pretty, perfect and boy does he make noises!! he is very noisy, whimpering, whining as you move your hips against his own - each little noise falls into your mouth as you kiss him, he is careful. he feels like if he "does to much" you'll wither away in his hands.

HE ALSO EATS YOU OUT CANT CJANGE MY MIND

owen - definitely back seat type of deal, or hiding in a storage closet - he purposely has this achingly slowly, and soft touch. he wants to work you up, get you hot and bothered, he knows what he was doing to you from the start, he wants to take his time hearing every each little almost pornagraphic noise that falls from your mouth "fuck- owen- oh my god-" your hands tugging on his shirt, hair - as he fucks you up against the wall, his hands over your mouth so you don't get caught, because that's unholy right? don't want to be seen like that, that would be sinful. but the way he talks into your ear about how dirty you are, how good you feel, goes right to your core. and this time definitely wouldn't be last time either, he also likes leaving hickeys in places only you two can see

rhett - you would expect him to be rough since he gives that "rough and dirty" look, but he's the complete opposite. the first time is in the bed of his truck, he has a blanket and pillows set, you are under the stars. he has you in his lap so he can see you, he is also very touchy, and lets you be loud, he loves hearing that you take so much pleasure from him, yes he treats you good, makes sure you feel good and all that but that doesn't mean he doesn't like marking you, he loves leaving hickeys, bite marks all of it. (but thats for later, he doesn't want to push you to far), he also loves kissing your skin

calvin - he holds your face, arms, sides. each touch is calculated and articulated, he goes slow, but hard. keeping his eyes on you the entire time, talking you through it, complimenting you, telling you to keep your hands on him, eyes on him. despite being an awkward fuck he likes the eye contact, watching unravel underneath him. he also definitely does it with you in his bed, he probably set it up and everything too. all cute, candles, attempting to make you a dinner, soft kisses leading up to it

THATS IT MWAH

dark desire and tainted bliss

Bucky x Reader 

Summary: Hiring you as his assistant was the best and the worst thing Bucky had done. He knew he shouldn’t be doing the things he was doing. He knew he shouldn’t have offered you to just live in the tower because it’s easier. He knows that this obsession of his will only breed problems. But the heart wants what it wants. And what Bucky wants, he gets. 

Themes: stalker!bucky, dom!bucky, explicit language, smut, mild daddy kink (nicknames only)

“Show me her room.” 

He ordered the AI upon entering his own room. Nothing happened in this tower without Bucky knowing about it. Which meant that he had access to everything, every floor, every room. He didn’t have eyes in any of the bedrooms, except for one. Yours. 

He never did anything wrong, Bucky reasoned with himself, he just liked to know that you were on your floor, in your room safe and sound. Sometimes he liked to just sit back and watch you work as you replied to emails and calls from your bed. Sometimes he liked to just watch you read. Or watched as you video called your friends, or as you scrolled on your phone and shopped for useless things. 

It calmed him down, and he only watched for a few minutes at a time. Just a few minutes wasn’t a crime, right? 

Bucky walked over to his desk, placing a palm down on the table, he leaned over and stared at the screen of his computer which displayed the live feed from the hidden camera in your bedroom. Yeah, he knew he should’ve never placed that camera there. He knew it was wrong. But he just wanted to see you all the time. And yes you were almost always around him and the team during the day, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. 

So he watched. His eyes fixed on the screen as he watched you walk around your spacious room. How you disappeared into the bathroom and he knew you would only step out about half an hour later. So he walked away from his desk, hoping into the shower as well. 

It was Friday, so lazy night in for you. You never went out on Fridays, you preferred to stay in and read or watch movies. Bucky knew that. 

When he stepped out of the shower, he walked over to his desk again. And saw you disappearing into your walk-in closet. 

He let out a sigh. If only he could just be there with you. It would make things so much easier, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t even have to pay him any extra attention, he just wanted to be in the same room as you. He just wanted– 

Bucky’s brain stopped functioning all together when you stepped out of the closet. His heart skipped a beat when he realised that you were wearing something really familiar. 

His hoodie. Which he hasn’t seen in about a week or so. Bucky frowned, wondering how that could have happened… Maybe laundry got mixed up? But then, why would you still keep it? You must know it was his, you’d seen him working out or going out for runs in it multiple times, right? So why would you still wear it…? 

You looked perfect in it too. Hood on and everything. So perfect all he wanted to do was gather you in his arms and savour your warmth. And it was all nice and sweet, Bucky felt all warm inside as he watched you walk around your room, in his hoodie, watering your little plants and tidying up as you went. He should step away now. He thought. He should stop watching. He should. 

But he didn’t. He sat down eventually at his desk and watched. Like it was the most entertaining thing to watch you live your life. 

And oh was he in for a surprise… 

Around your regular bedtime, you slid into bed as usual. And fussed around with the pillows for a few minutes until it felt just right. Bucky smiled as he watched you create your little cosy nest before sliding in there. You left the soft night light on which he liked because… well, it would be hard to see you in pitch darkness. 

Anyway, he watched you toss and turn until you lay completely still for a moment. Bucky frowned when he watched you reach for your phone again. You clicked a couple of times and out of nowhere, Bucky could hear soft feminine moans coming from your phone. 

His jaw dropped. He’d been watching you for quite a while now and he’d never seen you watch porn. He always just assumed you got your fix from those smutty books you liked. So this was… new. And it tormented him. Because if he was there with you, you wouldn’t need porn, would you? 

And he could hear the video loud and clear too. He could make out some words amidst all the moaning and skin slapping. Daddy… bunny… good girl… 

Still, he watched. He watched as your hands slid in between your legs. You were under the covers so he couldn’t see much except for the look on your face and the soft movement of your hand under the covers. Fuck… his own hand drifted downward until he had his fingers wrapped around his cock. Stroking it gently. Soft strokes, matching the pace of your wrist. 

Bucky watched as your face contorted in pleasure, as your lips parted when you began breathing deeper, how your hips moved along with your wrist, and fuck… he was dying. This was pure torture. His brain stopped working because all he could register was you touching yourself in your cosy, comfortable bed, while wearing his hoodie– 

Bucky stopped and stood up. His hoodie, huh? The devious plan formed in his head before his rational part could stop it. It was his hoodie, he should probably go get it back, right? 

He was at your door, knocking on it before he could talk himself out of it. What? He was here for his favourite hoodie. He had every right to get it back. 

And he had to hide his smirk when you opened the door, looking all disheveled. Panting and eyes wild as you stood there at your bedroom door, wearing nothing but his hoodie. Bucky discretely checked out your legs, but maintained his composure. He didn’t let it show how much he wanted those wrapped around his neck– 

“Sergeant Barnes,” Your breathless voice was driving him insane. “What, uh, what can I do for you?” 

You never stumbled upon your words. So this was new to him too. He made you nervous and he liked it. 

“Hey,” He said, sounding just like he always did. For now, he was able to keep the hungry animal in him caged. Not for long though, not when you looked at him like that. “I think our laundry got mixed up. I was,” He made a show of letting his eyes look down at the hoodie you were wearing, “looking for that actually.” He pointed at the hoodie. 

He held back another smirk as he watched you search for an excuse. 

“Oh? Oh I didn’t realise… um, you want it back right now? Or…?” You couldn’t even act dumb. You were a smart girl. Of course you realised what you were wearing wasn’t yours. “I could–,” 

Poor baby. Bucky couldn’t pretend any longer, so he cut you off by stepping into your room and shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the closed door and gave you a look that had you stammering again. 

“Oh come on,” He spoke softly, loving the surprised look on your face. It turned him on actually, seeing you so flustered. “We both know you’re smarter than this. And we both know what you were doing just now before I knocked on your door.” 

You gasped, frozen for a moment. “What?” 

Bucky quickly added, “Super soldier hearing, remember?” 

You tried to hide your face by lowering it, but Bucky grabbed you by the chin and tilted your face up before you could hide. 

“So? Touching yourself while wearing my hoodie?” He chuckled, the power he had in the moment getting to his head. “I think it’s kinda mean how you didn’t even offer to let me watch…” He paused before adding, lowering his voice even more, “Huh, little bunny?” 

The look on your face was priceless. It only made his smirk grow wider. 

“Bucky–,” 

He cut you off quickly, “No, no. It’s daddy.” 

–

Well, shit. 

How did you find yourself in this situation? Yes of course you’d known it was his hoodie. And yes it had accidentally made its way to your room. But it was so soft when you grabbed it earlier. It smelled clean, like laundry detergent and something so manly that you couldn’t resist. So you put it on. 

And having the fabric rub all over your naked body underneath, plus thoughts of the hoodie’s very handsome owner, didn’t help at all. It felt like you were in a dream, because Bucky was here. And shirtless. He was actually here and he’d heard you masturbating? 

“I’m sorry, I–,” 

“Shh,” He cut you off again. “I didn’t say you had to apologise.” He pulled you closer, your body pressing against his bare chest. “Did I, bunny?” 

You shook your head immediately. “No.” You whispered quietly. Something in the tone of his voice made you want to rub your face all over his chest and neck and purr like a kitten. What? 

“No, what?” He demanded. 

You hesitated, but still mumbled a quiet, “No, daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He said, smirking. “Now, let’s take care of you, yeah?” 

Next thing you knew, you were being pushed down on your bed. Right on top of the pile of pillows you liked to sleep with. He pinned you down by your throat while he stared down into your eyes. His metal fingers cold against your skin. 

His eyes wild and ocean blue. “Pull it up, don’t take it all the way off.” He ordered, referring to his hoodie. “Just pull it up. Let me see those pretty tits.” 

You did. Tucking the bunched up material under your chin as you let him see your bare chest. 

“So pretty.” He murmured, his warm fingers reaching out to tease a nipple. “Why’d you always keep them hidden from me, hmm?” He pinched a nipple, tugging on it. “I wanna see them often, you hear me, bunny? You’ll show daddy your pretty tits every day from now on, won’t you?” 

You could hear your heartbeats echoing in your ears. “Yes, daddy.” 

“That’s my good girl.” 

Bucky held your stare as he pulled away to lower his sweatpants. His hand was back around your throat as he parted your legs and pushed his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out. “Got yourself nice and wet right before I got here, huh bunny?” He taunted. “That’s why I’m able to just fucking slide in like you were made for it.” 

Your soft whimpers only fueled his desire to fuck you hard and fast, but he waited. 

“Does daddy’s cock feel better than your fingers, bunny?” He questioned, knowing damn well you weren’t in a headspace to answer him given his hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you that he wondered if you could even think straight. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you, little bunny. Stealing my hoodie, and touching yourself while wearing it. And you wouldn’t even tell me about it, would you? You would’ve just showed up to work tomorrow and pretend nothing happened, huh?” He taunted through gritted teeth. Leaning over your squirming body he said, “From now on, I want you to tell me, okay? I want you to tell me each time you touch yourself. You hear me, bunny?” 

You nodded quickly. 

“Good.” He kissed your nose, “I’m gonna fuck you now, is that okay?” 

You whined in need, then nodded again. 

Bucky smirked as he dug his knees into the mattress before fucking into you hard and fast. 

There was nothing gentle about him. He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear, “You feel so fucking good, bunny.” He chuckled, “Look at you, all nice and open for me. You didn’t even put up a fight. You don’t even care your boss is fucking you, do you? Hmm? All you care about is getting fucked by daddy’s cock, huh?” 

You were a moaning mess under him. “Yes… please.” It was all too overwhelmingly good, his voice, his weight on top of you, his cock thrusting in and out of you like that was its only purpose… 

You whimpered desperately as Bucky moaned right in your ear, the sound of his moan making your heart flutter. 

He sped up into you, mumbling, “You’re daddy’s little bunny, aren’t you? Say it. Tell me you’re mine.” He whispered in your ear, in a daze as he pounded into you. “Say it.” 

You cried out, “I’m all yours…” 

“Good bunny.” He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “You’re all mine. And this is where I’ll be every fucking night from now on, you hear me? I want you in bed, with your legs fucking spread just like this for me each time I walk in here.” 

You nodded, holding his stare. 

He shook his head, “No, no, no. Say it. Say ‘yes daddy, I understand’, come on bunny, say it.” 

“Yes daddy, I understand.” 

“Good fucking girl.” He moaned as he fucked deeper into you.

Your body squirmed under him, your back arching off the bed, you were burning with need and your body craved him even more. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, swallowing all your moans as he came inside of you. You felt his warm load shooting at your walls as he shoved his tongue past your lips. You cried out as that triggered your orgasm, and your walls clenched violently around him until you came undone as well. 

Your brain was a foggy mess at this point. 

“Not done with you,” He mumbled. 

He flipped you around and pulled you onto your hands and knees and pushed into you again from behind. The pile of pillows keeping you in place for him. You moaned out loud, unable to hold back as you surrendered to him completely. 

“Fuck, bunny,” He growled. “You’re so warm… such a pretty girl. I need some more, okay?” 

Bucky gripped your hips and slid inside you again. 

“Fuck…” He hissed, pounding in and out of you incessantly. You whimpered as both his hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him harshly each time, speeding up until you were a moaning mess again, barely having recovered from the previous round. “All of you is fucking perfect, huh?” 

Your voice was strained and hoarse as you moaned and whimpered under him, coming undone again in no time. 

Bucky chuckled in a cocky way as he came inside you again. “You come so fast, bunny.” He commented, “What is it? Daddy’s cock too much for you? Hmm? Are you so sensitive?” He pulled his cock out of you and just stared. His cum leaking out of you while you closed your eyes and panted under him, catching your breath. 

And you, still in his hoodie. Oh, he loved what he was seeing. 

He slipped his fingers back into you and loved the sound you made as he fingered his cum into you again, making you arch your back and whine in pleasure, “Please…” you whined, “Please, daddy… it’s so–,” 

“What?” He barked, shoving his fingers deeper. “You don’t tell me how to play with you, bunny. You hear me? I’ll make you come again if I want to.” 

You whimpered, “I can’t… please.” 

Bucky scoffed. “Fine.” He pulled his fingers away and pulled you up, leaning in to kiss the side of your face, he said, “This stays between us, okay?” 

You nodded. “Okay.” Obviously, you weren’t gonna tell anyone. 

“Now, time for bed. And keep the hoodie.” He kissed your cheek again. “You earned it, bunny.” 

Robert Reynolds, sentry and void top/bottom and sub/dom headcannons

@cherry-blossom-honey

Pairings: Robert Reynolds x reader sentry x reader and void x reader

Warnings:sexual

Bob: Controversial opinion. After seeing the movie, Bob isn't a sub. In the beginning? Yes? By the end, when is he comfortable with the Avengers? No. He could be a sub at times, but not all the time. I can tell man's is dominant but like a soft dom. Is probably a rough dom at times, but it really depends on his partner, although I think he'd prefer just to be a dom. Soft or rough, he doesn't care. It'd have to be a very specific and special occasion to sub.

Sentry: Top dom. God complex. Of course, he's dominant. Prefers to top, rough top. He can be soft. But prefers to fuck you. Make you know your his.

Void: Controversial take, but after seeing the movie and recording parts to go back and watch. Void doesn't give a fuck. If void let's someone fuck him 1 bob and sentry would need to trust and love them, 2 they'd need to prove themselves to him, that they are loyal, and do want to give him a chance. And 3 he wouldnt give a fuck as long as hes horny. Probs is used to being a dom but if you wanted to use him for your own pleasure? Go for it. Anyways. Just wanted to share that.

Imagine Bob not knowing you had a cat.

One morning he wakes up to a faint purring noise, he blinks the sleep out of his eyes and sees a cat sitting on his chest sleeping. "Uh--hi?" He quietly says completely confused. The cat stops their purring and meows softly back at him he watches as they stand on his chest and walk in two short circles before sitting back down and purring louder than before.

Bob decided he wouldn't move until the cat did, he thought he would be stuck there for a few minutes maybe 30 max... he was there for hours.

He didn't mind if he was being honest. The purring had a calming effect on him and the cat's fur was well taken care of with how soft it felt against his hand. He was just confused as to where the cat came from, and as you could imagine the cat wasn't answering any of his questions.

Everyone was getting concerned, no one had seen Bob all morning and it was now well past lunch when they decided to form a search party. You were concerned about Bob but also about another completely different reason. Where the hell was your cat?? When you mentioned your second, more prioritized concern John scoffed at you. "Seriously? A cat? Where the hell is Bob?? Isn't that more important?" And while yes it was important to find Bob and make sure he was okay, that cat was your stability. You needed to find the damn cat. And Bob...

Finally, after an additional hour searching Yelena realized no one had gone to Bob's bedroom to look for him. After mumbling about how she works with morons she went to his bedroom and knocked on the door using their secret code. Bob let his head perk up while keeping his body as still as possible when he heard the secret knocks. "Come in" he softly said breaking the silence he and the cat had been sitting in. When the cat gave him a slight glare he quickly apologized before smiling at Yelena when her silhouette appeared. "Hey, you need something?" He asked her, excited to help if possible.

Yelena stood in disbelief. Bob wasn't missing, neither was your damn cat. But a beautiful friendship obviously formed in the hours the team spent searching for the two. She sighed and shook her head before calling out into the hallway. "Y/N! Found your damn cat"

If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3

need that

Pairing: John Walker x Reader

Summary:

You watched as he stood at the sink, razor in hand, slowly dragging it across his jawline with practised ease. The muscles in his back flexed as he leaned in closer to the mirror. Thank goodness for inhibitions, otherwise you’d be going crazy and trying to pounce on him. He caught your eyes in the mirror and gave a small smirk. “You alright there?” You blinked, realising you’d been staring. Or You think everything he does is hot, and eventually he takes notice.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, implied smut, confessions, pining, yearning, all hours are yearning hours for reader

WC: 2.3K

A/N: Thank you @fire-joestar for this request and idea! I have another one for Bob with the same concept coming out at some point. Hope you all enjoy it!

☆☆☆

You wanted John Walker so bad that it was becoming a problem. Friends weren’t supposed to be crazy in love with other friends, but here you were, heart racing every time he so much as looked your way.

It came to the point where he’d be standing still, and you’d just be absolutely losing your mind. The way his jaw clenched when he was focused, how his biceps stretched the sleeves of his shirts, it was enough to short-circuit your brain.

Like when he caught you staring and started talking to you about his guns, “This one is pretty good for close-quarters. Lightweight, easy trigger…”

You nod along and pretend to pay attention, but it’s hot the way he’d handle them, all casual and confident. The way his fingers curled around the grip, the intensity in his eyes when he explained the mechanics, you’d transform into a gun right now if you could, just for the chance to be held like that.

“You still with me?” John asks, raising an eyebrow and giving you that crooked half-smile that never failed to melt your brain.

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly, even though he’d lost you as soon as you saw the veins in his hand flex around the barrel. You’re not even sure what he’s talking about anymore. Tactical specs? Firing range? Who cares. 

"Cool," he says, and goes right back to talking shop, completely unaware that you're about three seconds away from combusting.

It was an everyday occurrence. But during training, it was something else entirely. That’s when things really test your self-control.

Flipping you over like you weighed nothing during sparring sessions, he was strong and agile, all precision and power wrapped in that unfairly good-looking package. You found yourself on the mat more often than not, too distracted to fight properly. 

Not to mention listening to him talk, helping direct you on how to angle your arms, how to keep your balance and improve your fighting stance. It was so distracting the way he’d give directions, voice low and focused.

“Right foot here, and I want you to put all your weight behind it when you punch,” he’d say, tapping the mat lightly where he wanted your foot to go.

“Alright,” you murmur, trying not to sound like you're dying inside, and you try again, not quite doing as he instructed. He observes you for a moment, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. 

“Can I?” he asks, hands hovering near your hips, asking for permission, like you wouldn’t let him do pretty much anything. 

“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly.

He moves your hips into place with a firm, steady grip that has no business being that gentle. “Now,” he continues, voice closer now, “shift forward and twist your hips, it has to be all one movement.”

He’d basically been manhandling you, guiding your arms, adjusting your hips until you were exactly where he wanted you. But still, he was gentle and patient, never getting frustrated, always calm, always in control.

And it was so unbelievably hot.

You could only imagine where else those firm instructions and steady hands would come in handy. The way he said, "twist your hips"? Yeah, you were already spiralling.

“I’ve lost you again,” John says, catching the faraway, glazed-over look on your face, one brow raised.

“No, no, I’m… I’m here,” you stammer, blinking hard and trying to pull yourself back into the moment, even though your brain had very much left the building five minutes ago. He smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. And you’re not sure if that’s better or worse.

But you’re hopeless whether or not he’s interacting with you or not. Watching him work out in any capacity was a dangerous game. You were at risk of keeling over and dying on the spot every single time.

Watching him run on the treadmill, sweat glistening on his skin, shirt clinging to every sculpted line of muscle. Or when he boxed, the way his muscles rippled with every jab, every hook, every fluid, powerful movement. You were obsessed.

You put your head in your hands for a second, trying to cool down your spiralling thoughts, then looked back up at him.

He turned to you just then, wiping sweat from his neck with a towel, chest heaving slightly from exertion, and asked, “Did you need something?”

“N-nope,” You stutter out as you walk backwards out of the room, bumping into multiple walls, your eyes not once leaving his shirtless body. 

Though you liked the little things too.

He offers to drive you wherever you need to go, because, well, after a few incidents of reckless driving, your license had been suspended.

In your defence, it was a matter of life and death. Several times. But try explaining that you were being hunted by sword-wielding assassins and not getting laughed out of the room. 

You climb into the passenger seat, trying not to feel awkward about it. 

“Thanks…” You mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He glances over at you, mouth tugging into a faint smirk. “You’re lucky I like you,” he says, teasing just enough to make your chest flutter.

He’s quiet at first, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gearshift. The windows are down, wind in his hair, sun in his eyes. Then once you reach your destination, he does the thing. 

The thing where he puts his arm around the back of your seat as he reverses, his jawline sharp in the golden wash of afternoon light, the clean, strong line of his neck exposed beneath the collar of his shirt.

You don’t know why it has you holding your breath, but it does. Maybe it’s the casual way he does it, like he’s done it a hundred times. Or the fact that he’s so in control and completely unaware of how stupidly attractive what he’s doing is.

You’re gawking, and you know you’re gawking, but you’re only human. Gawking was your speciality, and you’re always putting yourself in situations to do it. 

Like when he’d be on cooking duty and you’d jump at the opportunity to be his unofficial sous-chef, just to be near him. You’re currently struggling with this godforsaken onion. Eyes watering, grip awkward, and the knife refusing to cooperate.

“I can do that for you,” John offers gently, taking the onion from your hands with that same ease he handled everything. “The blade’s dull, that’s why you’re having such a hard time…”

You nod, blinking away the sting in your eyes as you watch him grab the knife-sharpening rod. He starts working the blade against it with practised movements.

John Walker is an acts of service king; you noticed it early on. One time, you had barely even acknowledged that you were thirsty. There was no glass of water in front of you, you barely even sighed, but before you could even stand, John had quietly placed one in your hand without a word. 

Or when you fell asleep on the couch, and felt the weight of a blanket being placed on top of you, the warm, familiar scent of his cologne letting you know it was him. You didn’t even have to open your eyes. He didn’t say anything, didn’t wake you.

Just made sure you were comfortable and tucked the blanket around your shoulders. He could be loud, commanding, the centre of attention when he needed to be, but moments like that reminded you of how soft he could be when no one was looking.

You snap out of the memory, focusing back on him as he now dices the onion with mechanical precision, the knife gliding like it was an extension of his hand.

“See? Easy when your tools actually work,” he says with a half-smile, glancing your way.

You try not to swoon. Or stare. Or let him see how completely ridiculous it is that someone chopping onions could look that good. But honestly? It’s a losing battle.

A few days later, you were searching for him to get some insight on a mission you’d all be heading out on later that day.

“John?” you called out from outside his door, your knuckles tapping lightly.

“Come in!” he called back casually.

You step inside. His room was as clean and precise as you’d expect. Neatly made bed, organised, everything in its place. You glance around, not seeing him at first, but the moment you step into the bathroom, your soul threatens to leave your body. 

You’d seen him shirtless often enough that you should be used to it by now, but nope. Especially not like this. The room was steamy from the shower, and he stood there with only a towel slung low around his hips, v-line in full view, chest gleaming slightly in the light.

You watched as he stood at the sink, razor in hand, slowly dragging it across his jawline with practised ease. The muscles in his back flexed as he leaned in closer to the mirror.

Thank goodness for inhibitions, otherwise you’d be going crazy and trying to pounce on him.

He caught your eyes in the mirror and gave a small smirk. “You alright there?”

You blinked, realising you’d been staring.

“Yeah,” you croaked. “Yeah, I… just came to ask about the mission.”

He turned slightly, not even trying to cover up. “Sure. Just give me a second to finish up. Unless you’re in a rush?”

You shook your head fast. “No rush. I can wait.”

So you stay there, doing your best to focus as he continues to shave.

You start going over the mission details to distract yourself, letting him know the objectives, listening to his responses, but it’s nearly impossible. 

Thankfully, the next, next mission, you sat out with Bob, spending the day chilling and playing Mario Kart with him. It was easy and a perfect distraction from the John problem, as you started dubbing it. Until the rest of the team walked back in.

They looked rough. Bruised, dirty, clearly fresh off a firefight. John was at the front, jaw tight, a few shallow cuts on his arms and a particularly nasty one near his temple that definitely needed attention, yet he still somehow looked unfairly good.

You barely had time to blink before his eyes found yours. Then he was moving, across the room, straight to where you were still curled up on the couch.

Without a word, he jerked his head toward the hallway. “We need to talk.”

You blinked, glancing at the others like someone might tell you what the hell was happening, but no one seemed surprised. With a sigh, you stood and followed him down the hall to a quiet, empty corner. Why this was his number one priority after a mission was beyond you.

“We do?” you asked, arms crossing defensively.

“You’ve been looking at me weird for a while now,” he said, tone unreadable but eyes locked on yours.

You froze. “What?”

He stepped a little closer. “You have. In the kitchen. In the gym. In my car. You stare.”

Your mouth opened but closed just as fast. How on earth would you rebut any of his claims? You doubt you had been subtle in the slightest; if someone made a compilation of you staring at John, they’d have enough footage to make a movie. 

“You’re imagining things,” you said, way too quickly.

He tilted his head, clearly not buying it. “Am I?”

You step back, but your back hits the wall, the space between the two of you impossibly small.

“You like me, don’t you?”

Hearing that you’re sure it’s over for you. You stand there waiting for the ground to swallow you whole. You look down, unable to meet his eyes, but then his fingers are under your chin, tipping your head up gently.

“It’s okay if you do,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye. “I like me too.”

You let out a breathy laugh and swat at his chest playfully. “Asshole…”

He laughs with you, but soon his expression softens, the teasing giving way to something deeper.

“I like you too,” he says quietly.

The words hit like fireworks going off in your chest. You mean that?” You ask to which John answers genuinely, “Yeah, I do.”

“Do you…” You start, heart racing, “Do you want to show me how much you like me?” you ask, voice dropping, the boldness rising in your chest before you can second-guess it.

He smirks at you, then he pulls you in, his hands cupping your face like you’re something fragile and precious. His lips meet yours gently, and you melt as you hold onto his arms. Without them, you’d be a puddle on the floor. The kiss slowly deepens, becoming more passionate, more desperate. Your fingers curl in his hair, pulling him closer like it’s instinct. He groans softly at the touch, one hand slipping from your cheek to your waist, then he slots his knee between your legs and…

“No, no, no. Not outside my room,” Yelena interrupts with a sigh, “Take that somewhere private.”

Alexei is grinning like a proud dad, arms folded, nodding approvingly. Bucky is concerned about how quickly you guys started making out against the wall.

Ava just throws up her hands in relief, muttering, “Finally,” under her breath, clearly thrilled that she no longer has to witness you making heart eyes at John during every single meal, briefing, and training session.

And Bob? Bob’s smiling, warm and supportive, genuinely happy for you both… though mildly overwhelmed, like he just walked into something he isn’t entirely sure how to exit.

You groan into your hands, face burning. Yelena’s already walking away, calling over her shoulder, “I’m ordering pizza for dinner. If you two are going to be gross again, do it behind a closed door.”

John chuckles, slipping his hand into yours. “Well… you heard the lady.”

He pulls you towards his room, and the second you get inside, you shove him onto his bed, trying to peel his suit off. 

“Eager, aren’t you?” John chuckles. 

“Shut up.”

Masterlist

꒰ ⌕ ꒱ recommended lewis pullman fics! ✧ ੭ pls support these writers !

ROLES: bob ‘robert’ floyd (top gun maverick) rhett abbott (outer range) calvin evans (lesson in chemistry) robert reynolds (thunderbolts*)

✷ includes smut! must 18+ to read! 𝜗𝜚 — my personal fav!

OVER THE INTERCOM ⠆ i recently got back into reading lewis fics again and its made me realize how amazing these writers are so i thought i would make a rec list out of appreciation as someone who’s been reading ab lewis since 2022 :p

˚⋆𐙚｡ list is regularly updated when i find new fics! & if links aren’t working pls lmk! ⋆𖦹.✧˚

BOB FLOYD ⤸

✷ the wingman written by @roosterforme / synopsis: Bob never did this sort of thing. Talking to girls and flirting and romance. It's not that he didn't want to, he just didn't really know how. But you were different in all the right ways, and you made him feel confident enough to try.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ do you wanna make somethin’ out of it written by @theharddeck / synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

⤿ ✷ it’d be a sweet situation a much needed part two! /synopsis: what's better than finding out the WSO you've had a secret crush is the same audio erotica creator that you've been crushing on for months? getting to watch him record new content...and maybe get involved yourself

rodeo written by @sarahsmi13s / synopsis: when your relationship with bob is reveal to the squad, hangman can’t help but wait for bob to stake his claim on you.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ bob from stats written by @attapullman / synopsis: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

⤿ 𝜗𝜚 ✷ bob from pi kapp / synopsis: First he's late to chapter, and now Bob is late to your Stats final. You saved him a seat. But should you also save one for his hobby horse?

never knew i needed a college!bob au until now and it’s honestly changed my life.

✷ unraveled written by @withahappyrefrain / synopsis: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

birds of a feather written by @dearsnow / synopsis: phoenix and her girlfriend set you up with a wso they insist will be right up your alley. (robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is meant to be similar to bob, ie quiet, sweet, and nerdy, mentions of being drunk/having sex but nothing explicit)

the quiet ones written by @callsigns-haze / synopsis: You surprise the Dagger Squad by revealing your secret to Bob, who shyly but lovingly melts into your kiss as the others watch in shock, as shy guys are your type.

RHETT ABBOTT ⤸

✷ good at makin’ bad decisions written by @attapullman / synopsis: Even a year after you've broken up, after a night of drinking you still end up in Rhett Abbott's bed.

sugar and spice written by @floydsmuse / synopsis: you and rhett start up the tradition of making a gingerbread house together on christmas eve.

✷ odds are stacked written by @sunlightmurdock / synopsis: In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

✷ whisky sour written by @delopsia

CALVIN EVANS ⤸

please please me written by @gaygothiccowboy / synopsis: you persuade Calvin to spend a little less time at the lab and a lot more time with you.

(NEW!) ROBERT REYNOLDS ⤸

dance with me written by @callsign-fox

stay with me written by @scarletmika / synopsis: Bob wants to feel useful, to truly be part of the team, but the others don't think he's ready. You take it upon yourself to teach him control, to guide him through. But mistakes will be made, and it might not be possible to keep the darkness from creeping back in once more

the good side written by @cosmictheo / synopsis: bob loves you so much that he slowly begins to transform into a house-husband for you. and he loves it.

sneaking around written by @callsign-swan / synopsis: Bob doesn't mean to be sneaking around. But he can't help it. He's got a secret, and he wants to keep it that way. Too bad he's best friends with Yelena Belova.

𝜗𝜚 honey written by @strkly / synopsis: after being off the grid for a while you return to society and meet up with your old friend bucky barnes. unexpectedly you run into someone you never thought you would see again. your high school boyfriend robert reynolds.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ perv!bob written by @undyingdecay

𝜗𝜚 truth will set your free written by @sergeantbuckybarnes synopsis: You are injected with a truth serum during a mission, and when you return to the Watchtower, you must avoid Bob in order not to spill your feelings for him, but this causes Bob to believe he has done something to upset you

control written by @fireinmoonshot / synopsis: Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand.

if anything written by @eyelessfaces / synopsis: no one wants to talk about how close you came to dying, everyone walking on eggshells until bob finds out what really happened and asks why no one trusted him enough to tell the truth; you both know the reason involves your mutual feelings.

dreamwalker written by @roanofarcc /synopsis: you use your dreamwalking abilities to try to soothe the storm in bob’s head. 

show some loves to the authors ᡣ𐭩 recommendations by jes!

rhett abbott imagine

backing you up against his truck after you accuse him of eyeing another girl at dinner. slipping his hand up your dress and never breaking eye contact because he wouldn’t want to miss the way your eyes widen and your mouth opens up to let out a small gasp.

working his fingers inside of you slowly making you lose yourself to him and shuddering as he curls them, allowing you to have your release.

“If i wanted someone else, I wouldn’t be here fucking you with my fingers.” He would whisper in your ear, leaving kisses down your neck and collar bones.

An entirely meaningless arrangement of gifs Do not repost without credit

Lewis Pullman Masterlist

Just his characters pls

Bob Floyd

The Floyd Boys (wip)

Munch (Smut)

Montana Lovin' (ABO!AU)

Co-Parenting

Rhett Abbott

Gold Masterlist (wip)

Ballet

Bob Reynolds

Alone Together

'tism

Weather Anxiety

Sneaking Around Cover Up

Back To You

Ben Mears

Coming Soon

Jordan Weaver

Blurb

Let me help you | Robert Reynolds

Pairing. Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds x Fem!Reader

Summary. A year after the events in New York City, the memories of that dreadful day come back to haunt you. Luckily, this time you have Bob with you and he will not let your pain drag you down, the same way you won’t let him blame himself for it.

Word Count. 3.8k

Tags/Warnings. Hurt to comfort, slight angst, SMUT, mention of Bob’s father and trauma, female receiving penetration, use of pet names such as honey, sweetheart and baby. Reader calls him Bobby during sex.

EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD, MUST BE 18+ TO READ, I WILL BE CHECKING. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Notes. My comeback to being a fic writer since I abandoned my writing blog back in 2023. Shoutout to Mr. Bob and his pathetically charming self for dragging me back to my writing ways. Also… I created and pushed the Inexperienced!Bob agenda in this fic. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always welcomed.

You could feel the darkness trying to consume you. It worked slowly, yet it felt as if it was rapidly trying to drown you, robbing the air straight out of your lungs and leaving you without any air left to breathe. It was an all-consuming feeling of dread — except this wasn't a feeling, it was a person. He had a face and a name. The exact same face of the man you would eventually come to fall in love with, but it wasn't him, not really.

It was the silhouette of the darkest parts of him. The dark side of him that wanted you to feel the exact same type of pain he was feeling. All of the abuse and suffering. He wanted you to feel it, too. He wanted every living person to feel it.

He was nothing more than a void — and he wanted you to drown in it. He wanted you to understand that there was nothing more in this world than the neverending feeling of numbness and agony.

His darkness was consuming you and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Honey, you have to wake up,” a worried sleepy voice urged you while a warm hand wiped the sweat off your forehead, carefully brushing and putting away the strands of hair that were stuck to it.

You opened your eyes so fast it felt like your heart was about to give out. Your breathing came out in quick, unsteady gasps that made it hard to figure out where you were. Your heart was beating just as hard as last year, back when the man next to you wasn’t the one he is right now.

“Bob?” you asked, trying to catch your breath and reaching out to him with a shaky hand.

“Hey, it was just a nightmare. Can you, uh.. can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked, sitting up in your shared bed and turning on the bedside lamp next to him before taking your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. You didn't reply, all you could do was close your eyes and sit up next to him, bringing your free hand to your racing heart.

Your lack of an answer didn’t help soothe the worry he was feeling. “C’mon, sweetheart. Please,” Bob begged you, squeezing your hand two times.

I’m here. He’s gone.

You nodded once and opened your eyes, turning your head to the right and meeting the soft blue eyes of your boyfriend who was sitting next to you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice raspy and strained. He shook his head. “It’s okay. We can do it together,” he answered with a small smile.

Bob took a deep breath, held it in for a few seconds, and then exhaled. You copied his movements, keeping your hand in his. “Again,” he said before taking another deep inhale and then letting it out, never taking his eyes away from you.

You weren’t able to count the number of times you breathed in and out with Bob, but he stayed with you through it all. Holding your hand until you were finally able to breathe normally.

You stayed silent for a while, but Bob didn’t seem to mind. All of his focus was on you, and he would wait for you for eternity if that was the time you needed to get a word out. “I’m sorry,” you croaked.

“None of that, honey,” he answered, not missing a beat. “Does it hurt to speak?” He thought of things he could do to help, rummaging through his head for any useful advice when his eyes lit up as he remembered something from his childhood.

“Do you want me to get you a glass of water?” He asked, his eyes shining as if he had finally gotten the right answer to an unsolvable paradox.

“Please,” you whispered. Bob took hold of the covers that were discarded away to the bottom of the bed and brought them up to your chest, standing up with a small groan as his feet met the cold floor and he stretched his arms above his head, giving you a clear view of his toned shirtless figure.

“I’ll be right back,” he replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead before moving to your bedroom door and walking out.

Bob didn’t take long walking to the kitchen and grabbing you a cold glass of water, yet every second he spent outside of your shared room made you remember your awful nightmare, which you wouldn’t even describe as a nightmare — it was a terrible fucking memory.

You anxiously chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at your door, impatiently waiting for your boyfriend to come back. The door eventually opened after a few minutes and Bob walked in with a glass of water in his right hand, you took notice of the metallic straw inside of it.

“It’s, uh… so it’s easier for you to drink,” he explained.

“That’s nice, thank you,” you replied before taking the glass from him and taking a small sip. The coldness that seeped through your body and the feeling of the condensation on the glass helping you ground yourself back to reality.

“Better?” He asked, climbing back onto the bed and placing a hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You hummed and leaned your body closer to him, leaning your head against his toned shoulder.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“You really need to stop apologizing, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he replied, turning his head to the left and kissing your temple.

You stayed silent for a while, taking small sips of your water. Finding comfort in each other’s presence and the sound of his steady breathing next to you. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

“It was—,” you started.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But my mom used to tell me that talking about these types of things could help make you feel better,” Bob rambled, moving his free hand as he spoke to try and make his statement seem casual.

Bob had once shared with you that his mother used to help him out whenever he’d wake up terrified from nightmares about his father. She would give him a glass of water — with a straw to make it easier to drink — and comfort him through it all. He mentioned those moments were what eased his mind whenever he had one of his Low Days.

You let out a soft sigh, setting the empty glass on the bedside table next to you. “It was about last year,” you said softly.

“Oh,” Bob whispered, his shoulder going tense beneath your head. You didn’t have to look up at him to know there was a look of worry in his eyes.

You placed your hand over his on your thigh. “It’s not your fault,” you tried to comfort him, only to be quickly cut off by him.

“But it was me who did that,” he stated, his head hanging low.

“You weren’t in control, Bob. God, you didn’t even remember what happened once we got you out,” you said, slightly turning your head to press a kiss against his shoulder blade, causing Bob to let out a shaky breath.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I.. he,” Bob corrected himself, “He hurt you. He hurt every civilian in the city,”

“It wasn’t you, baby. I mean, now you're considered a hero. A goddamned Avenger, for fuck’s sake.”

“A pretty useless one. All I do is clean up after everyone and be Walker’s gym buddy,” he said, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping his lips.

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. You also helped Alexei get that Red Bull sponsor for his ugly New Avengerz merch,” you replied, trying to lighten the mood.

That caused Bob to let out a genuine smile and it was enough to make you feel like you had single-handedly caused world peace. It felt like the sun had shone straight through your heart. An infinite sunbathe.

“You’re a good person, Bob,” you lifted your head from his shoulder, sitting up to meet his gaze and bringing a hand to caress his cheek. Bob closed his eyes at the feeling, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he felt your touch on his skin. “Once you learn how to control your powers — how to control him.. you’ll be the most powerful member of this team.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the one comforting you, honey” he replied, opening his eyes and turning his head to give the palm of your hand a kiss, his eyes not leaving yours as he did it.

“Knowing you’re next to me is enough to make me feel better.”

A bright blush took over Bob’s cheeks. He wasn’t fully used to all of this, to the way you seemed to love him despite his darkest moments. Two months into your relationship he had shyly confessed to you that he had no romantic experiences due to his addiction and Low Days. That didn’t change the fact that he was eager to learn and make you feel just as loved as you made him feel.

He was about to open his mouth to say something along the lines of you being too sweet for a messed up man like him when he was distracted by the yawn that escaped you. A soft smile adorned Bob’s features.

“Oh, honey. You must be tired,” he said in the softest voice he could muster. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“Is it that obvious?” You joked, another yawn leaving your lips, causing Bob’s smile to get even bigger. “Nope, not at all, sweetheart.”

Bob extended his arm to turn off your bedside lamp with a small sigh and moved to lay down facing you, you followed his movements, laying on your side and pressing your back to his strong chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and gently pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of his beating heart against your back to lull you to sleep. It didn’t take long for you to notice that your attempt to slip back into dreamland was futile. You had no idea how long you spent trying to go back to sleep, it could’ve easily been fifteen minutes or an hour, but that didn’t matter. You just couldn’t.

You were so fucking exhausted, your body knew that but your brain wasn’t cooperating. You couldn’t fall back asleep. You tried to switch positions and move around, but it was useless. Nothing was working. Maybe your nightmare shook you up more than you thought.

“You okay over there?” You heard Bob’s tired voice behind you.

“Yeah… No. I don’t know why I can’t fall back asleep,” you answered, frustration lacing your tone.

Bob’s right arm that was gently wrapped around your waist moved down as his warm hand traveled beneath the sleeping shirt you were wearing — his sleeping shirt to be exact. His hand rubbed slow circles on your skin.

He used his free hand to move away the hair that was covering your neck and began to trail sweet kisses up your throat, moving slowly until he reached your jaw. “Is this alright?” He asked. You hummed and closed your eyes as he continued scattering soft wet kisses against your jawline until reaching your earlobe, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Let me help you, honey,” he whispered in your ear, his warm breath and wandering hand under your shirt causing a heat to build up in your core. A whimper escaped your lips as your hips involuntarily pressed back against his. The feeling of his hardening member against your ass and his toned, strong chest right behind your back making you feel dizzy.

“Bobby,” you gasped, slightly turning your head to meet his eyes. “Tell me what you need,” he replied, licking his lips and pulling his hand away from under your shirt to use it to lift himself up and hover above you. You weren’t able to get any words out so you did what your body was begging you to do.

You pressed your lips against his and kissed him. Bob eagerly kissed you back, using his free hand to hold your face and lift it up towards him, a small moan leaving his lips. You two had been in this position several times, yet it always felt like the first time for him, because due to his inexperience: every feeling was new to him. Moans and whimpers would always escape him whenever he found himself making out with you.

His hand moved from your cheek to your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pressing himself closer to you. The kiss was heated but still soft — still so Bob. He pulled away to take a breather before saying, “Wait, I, uh.. I think I know of something that could help.”

He shifted his position to lay on his back, spreading his legs and manhandling your body, moving you to sit between his thighs. “Is this.. Is this alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you answered, letting out a sigh of comfort as you laid your head on his chest, your back pressed against his shirtless figure, his head above yours and his legs keeping you in place, spread next to yours.

“You tell me if you want me to stop.. or if it’s too much,” he rambled “Oh! And also if I do something wrong—“

“It’s fine, Bobby,” you replied with a small smile. “You’re pretty good at what you do, don’t worry too much about it.”

Your statement brought a bright blush to his cheeks, the second of the night — which wasn’t strange because he always got shy whenever you praised him during your intimate moments. He still wasn’t used to being praised, especially not on times like this.

He lets out a nervous laugh as he uses his left arm to hold your waist, pulling you closer to his chest and his right hand smoothes over your covered abdomen, the tips of his warm fingers making you shiver and internally beg for more.

“Can I.. Is it okay if I take this off?” he asks, slightly pulling your shirt up, your eyes close as you feel his lips against your ear.

“Please,” you exhale. Bob slowly pulls your shirt over your figure, causing the cold air of your shared room to hit the soft skin of your bare chest, making your nipples harden. Leaving you almost completely naked, the only thing covering your body being your panties that were getting wetter by the second.

“Jesus,” Bob whispers, bringing his hand up to softly trace the outline of your right breast. Taking his time as he trails the tips of his fingers through its underside, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He slowly brings his fingers up to play with your hardened nipple, pinching it slightly before using his whole hand to grope your breast.

“Stop teasing.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease,” he replies. You didn’t have to see his face to know there was a huge smile adorning it. “I’m just admiring my beautiful girlfriend.”

You try to move closer to him, wanting to feel something — anything that could help ease the burning in between your legs. You dropped your hand over his left arm that held your waist in place and pushed your hips back against his, a moan escaping you as you grind your ass against his hard cock.

Bob’s self-esteem boosted at the sweet sound you let out, giving your breast a last squeeze before trailing his fingers downwards to where you wanted it the most.

“Please, Bobby,” you pathetically whimpered, your hips involuntarily jutting upwards towards his hand as your body begged for more of his touch.

“Shh, I know, honey,” he hushed your pleas. He trailed his fingers through the plush of your thighs before letting them linger along the hem of your drenched panties. He slowly brings his hand down to cup your covered pussy over the fabric of your underwear, causing another moan to escape you.

You threw your head back against him, your breathing coming out in unsteady pants. You could feel and hear his heavy breathing, too. Feel him getting worked up over the sight of your begging body. He slowly pressed his fingertips down to touch you through the drenched fabric of your underwear, the pressure of his fingers against your covered folds feeling just right.

“God, look at that,” Bob panted. Quickly taking his hand off of your needy core to stare at his fingers, watching them glisten with your slick wetness. “Can’t believe all of this is because of me, sweetheart.” You whimpered at the loss of his hot touch, your hips bucking towards him in a desperate way of trying to get closer.

“Only for you, Bob. Fuck.”

Bob’s chest swelled with pride at your reaction. “Lift your hips, honey,” he ordered, his breath fanning against your cheek as you swiftly lifted your hips and watched him slowly bring your underwear down, finally letting you completely spread your legs as your naked pussy met the cold air of the room.

Bob’s entire world stopped spinning the second he saw your bare body laying against him. He could see your wet pussy glisten with arousal due to the dim light that entered your room through the small crack underneath the door. He had seen you naked a bunch of times already, but it still felt new to him to see a woman’s body be this needy for his touch. It still surprised him that he could be the cause of the wetness that dripped on your bedsheets. He was nothing more than a recovered addict with a shit ton of mental issues and yet… he could cause this. He could somehow make you trust and love him completely.

“Touch me, Bobby,” you begged.

Your boyfriend happily obliged, swiping his long middle finger in between your folds and spreading your wetness through your pleading pussy. “Bob,” you warned.

He let out a shaky laugh, “Sorry, I got you.”

He slowly eased his middle finger in you, feeling the way your walls clenched against it, begging for more. Both of you moaned at the sensation. “You’re so warm, honey,” he moaned.

“More, please.”

Bob used his thumb to press your clit and give it slow circles, feeling the way it pulsated under his finger. Making his blood flow straight to his hard member. You mewled at the feeling of his middle finger pumping in and out of you as his thumb worked on your clit. Your wetness covering his hand.

He took his time pumping into you in an easy rhythm, waiting for your begging body to be ready for him to add a second one. Remembering everything you taught him about pleasing your body. Bob’s free hand came up to grope your tits as he began to drop wet kisses on your neck, sucking on your skin, forgetting that you’d wake up in a few hours to a purple bruise sitting there.

“So good, Bobby,” you whimpered, closing your eyes and letting the pleasure he was causing you take all over your body. His strong hand groping your breasts and his other one working on your pussy making you feel drunk on him. The length of his finger pumping against your soft walls made your body melt against him.

Bob slowly entered his thick ring finger inside your wet heat, causing a moan of his name to escape you. He began to push it in and out, matching the rhythm he had created with his middle finger. Your body shook against him. He added more pressure to his thumb on your clit, circling it faster as he felt your breathing hitch and saw a blissful expression take over your face.

“Just like that, sweetheart. You’re doing so good for me, you always do,” he praised.

Your body kept shaking and your breathing came out in short gasps. “Relax, honey. Breathe,” Bob reminded you, but it was useless. You could feel him all over your body. Only him. Not The Void. Not your suffering. Only Bob and the love he felt for you.

You could smell your arousal and hear the lewd sounds of his fingers moving in and out your pussy, it all felt too much and too right. The fire you felt in your belly got bigger, causing your hips to buck against Bob’s fingers, wanting more. “I think I’m gonna—” you exhaled.

“I know. I got you,” Bob whispered in your ear. Bob put more pressure on your clit the moment he felt your walls clench and shake against his fingers. You closed your eyes and let the pleasure you were feeling wash all over you.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” you whined. A hot feeling taking all over you as Bob continued to ease his fingers in you, helping you ride your orgasm. Seconds later, you come all over his fingers, your wet and hot fluids soaking his hand and spilling over your sheets. It was all so hot, Bob couldn’t help but moan at the sight.

Your body shuddered and your legs shook as you kept your eyes closed and came down from your high. Trying to catch your breath and focus on the whispered praises you were getting from Bob that seemed light-years away.

“Are you with me?” Bob asked. You hummed and buried your head on his chest, making him chuckle. Bob slowly pulled his fingers out, making you whine at the overstimulation you were feeling. “I’m sorry, honey,” he apologized before raising his soaked fingers to his lips and groaning as he tasted your hot juices.

You could feel a wave of exhaustion lulling you to sleep. “It’s okay if you fall asleep, I’ll just run to the bathroom real quick for a towel to clean you up. I’ll be right back,” he spoke softly, remembering how you taught him about the importance of aftercare.

Just as he was about to leave for the bathroom you said, “Hey, Bob?” stopping him on his tracks.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I love you. I’m thankful that Valentina almost killing me brought us together,” you replied in your sleepy state.

“I love you, too. You have no idea,” and you really didn’t. Because he would never let the darkness consume you. He wasn’t going to let you drown in it, the same way you wouldn’t let him drown either.

Bob admired your naked body for a bit more before walking to the bathroom for a towel. He wondered if life had always been this beautiful.

© BRNINGHOUSE. do not translate or claim any of my work as your own.

I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for more bob content. How do you think Bob would be with intimacy both NSFW and non-NSFW?

☆.°*Physical Intimacy w/ Bob HCs*°.☆

a/n: oooo idk if you meant intimacy in general but since you mentioned NSFW, im going to focus on physical intimacy!! no smut though. also forgive the first bit just explaining my thought process word count: 1.0k warnings: sexual content but not smut, regardless 18+ Minors DNI!, also mentions of drugs and insecurities. just anything that would've been in thunderbolts.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・inbox・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Knowing Bob's background, I believe that he would deeply crave intimacy, but be very hesitant to initiate it himself.

He had a rough childhood that probably didn't consist of a lot of affection from his mother and if you read the file that Valentina had on Bob, it says that his drug addiction started in middle school and that he dropped out in eighth grade because of it. After that, he had a juvenile record a mile long from breaking & entering, robbery etc.

With this information, I'm going to guess that he hasn't had many (if any) relationships and if he did, they probably weren't very healthy. Overall, he has a negative history with trust and intimacy.

BUT despite all of this, being with the team has had a positive impact on him- showing him that he isn't alone, what it's like to be sober and that vulnerability can be a good thing. For once, he can let down his walls and be his true self.

Unfortunately, physical intimacy is a whole other battle with the void lurking between the surface.

Before you had even begun dating, you had made the mistake or brushing his hand. Once simply gesture- a subconscious one really- threw you into one of your worst memories with Bob as a viewer. When you both came back to reality you didn't pull away, or flinch. He did.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Bob said tearing his hand from yours. "I can't control it. I- I didn't mean-"

And even though you just relived your own past, you reached for him.

"Bob, I know." You said, squeezing his hand. "It's not your fault."

You didn't leave, didn't scream at him. Just held him. And from that day on its like the barrier was lifted.

He would never make the first moves touching you before you were dating- that's where you come in.

It would start slow: hugging him after a mission, playfully shoving him as you joked around. Before you knew it, you were laying your heads on each other's shoulders when you sat side by side.

Your first kiss was slow. Your hands cupping his cheeks, guided his face to yours and for a moment, as your noses brushed, you could feel his breath against your lips. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek as you hummed, then his lips were on yours.

It wasn't hungry- no. There was none of that carnal desire or devouring. Instead it was thirsty, desperate. He reached for your lips as if they held the last drop of water in a barren desert and held you close like you'd evaporate if he didn't. Your lips dragged painfully slow against his until he reached to meet you.

Cheek and forehead kisses are a hallmark of your relationship.

As much as he absolutely adores kissing your lips and making out with you, those kisses are simply so pure that they held such a sacred place in his heart. No one gave him those before you.

Before you left to go anywhere, you'd find him in his little reading nook, brush his hair from his face and kiss his cheek from behind.

Even after months of dating he'd still blush after you did that and touch his skin to make sure it was real.

"I love you." You said.

And sometimes he'd catch your hand before you turned to go, pulling you in for a kiss on the lips.

"I love you too." And he always said it with a smile.

Bob doesn't hold hands in the traditional way out in public, but he does lace his fingers with yours. Your palms aren't touching but your digits remain interlocked, leaving him room to run his thumb along your hand.

He's not big on PDA. It makes him self conscious, not because he's not proud of you because he is, but because it feels as if he's putting his heart on display. Although Bob knows those from his past aren't around anymore to hurt him, it's a lasting scar that isn't healed so easily.

For my self-conscious girls, I mean this so genuinely, I don't think Bob has a physical type whatsoever. If you were a curvier women and felt insecure about in comparison to him and his physique he wouldn't even be able to comprehend it because to him you hung the stars in the sky. You're ethereal and anyone who tried to take that from you because of something as silly as your weight, or hair or nose is ridiculous. You're a goddess in his eyes.

Like, being insecure is reserved for him and him only. If you started speaking poorly about yourself he wouldn't even be able to stand listening to it and would probably cup your face in his hands and kiss you to make you stop

Is a big-time cuddler. Bob's favorite way to fall asleep is tucked in your arms. Although, that wouldn't last for long because he runs hot and once he was unconscious he'd toss and turn, kicking all the sheets to the end of the bed. He'd only cuddle you once more when he woke in the morning.

NSFW

Now, as I mentioned earlier I don't think he has a lengthy relationship history, however, I do believe that he's had sex before.

Most of the other times Bob had sex he was high and doesn't really remember much, which only makes this moment with you even more significant- and a bit anxiety inducing. With a high, he wasn't as worried about how he did or how he felt. Now, he was hyperaware of all of his inadequacies.

I think he's submissive or vanilla. The only time he's dominant during sex is if he's bolstered by the sentry persona and as we know, that may lead to the void so it is a VERY rare occurrence.

And when I say vanilla, that doesn't mean boring or satisfactory. Bob feels everything so strongly that his love for you would almost be overwhelming for him. You were just intoxicating. His kisses are so deep and soft it makes his head spin.

Loves being called a good boy.

I just imagine sex with him either being the definition of lovemaking: slow, passionate, raw.

Or, so giggly.

He's also a munch. What?? Who said that?? He may be sober but he gets drunk on the taste of you all the same.

He adores looking at you. To him, it's almost the only way. He has needs, sure, but what makes it so special and otherworldly is the love he has for you.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・inbox・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

this is by no means a comprehensive list and I would love to revisit these ideas more. if you have more headcanons you'd like to see my inbox is open

Now that I know asks are open *rubs hands*

I got a bit of juicy drama for you! A magic user!reader who is in a stable relationship with bob. The rest of the team know but they all keep things on the quiet. But Valentina finds out and wants to make a PR stunt out of it.

All The Rage Back Home

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry/The Void x Magic User!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob have been in a relationship for eight months, and somehow everything has managed to stay extremely stable…That is until Valentina Allegra de Fontaine gets her hands on it.

Warnings: Semi-Spoilers for Thunderbolts because Bob is in this and on top of that some little plot points are mentioned. No warnings apart from that, there’s some fluff though? Yeah some fluff

Author’s Note: Hehehehe, we love drama, we love drama a lot, and we love when Valentina caused the drama because that just makes it even better. I didn’t know what kind of magic to choose so I settled on Necromancy? There’s too many magical powers to choose from lol. :)

Word Count: 3,641

The room smelled like incense, lemon, and sage–sharp, earthy, and a little sweet. It clung to the linens, soaked into the floorboards, and drifted in the morning light like a second skin over the space. It was one of the things Bob loved most about your room, though he never said it the same way twice.

Most times he would hold you close and quietly ask where you got it–like maybe if he got it bottled, he would be able to bring a piece of you into every room he walked into. But more often than not, he just took in a larger breath of air the second he crossed the threshold into your room, like it was easier to take in with you laced into it.

This morning was no different, as you laid tangled up with one another, whispering as softly as possible, and touching every plane of skin that was available to the both of you.

Bob was on his back, and your head was on his chest, you were listening to his heartbeat–the way it would steadily increase every time you shifted, or how it slowed when the both of you got into a position where it felt like you were more in sync with one another. His fingers were tracing idle shapes along your spine, sometimes it would be random numbers, other times he’d spell out words and make you guess what he was writing, but today it was squares, triangles and circles.

Your hand was against his face, caressing the smooth skin of his cheek, trailing down to his jaw every so often to feel the sharp bone of it.

“We’re like two furnaces when we’re in bed like this.” You whispered, pressing yourself closer to him, looking at the way his face slowly took on this deeper crimson, deeper than the pink that usually dusted his cheeks when he was around you.

”Told you…We need to buy a fan. I have this innate fear that I'm going to give you a heat stroke.” You smirked at his comment, placing a gentle kiss on his chest.

”Can’t kill me that easily Bob.” He let out a breathy laugh, the kind that warmed your hair and curled his chest against your cheek as it moved. His fingers kept up their lazy trail against your spine, not quite mimicking shapes anymore, but just moving for the sake of touching you. His other hand slid down the length of your arm slowly, letting the pads of his fingers catch on every tiny ridge of your skin, watching goosebumps bloom like a silent spell you never had to cast.

Then, with such care and warmth, he took your hand and drew it away from his face, shifting it just enough to look at it properly, cradling your wrist in his palm like if he was holding an ancient relic–something sacred. His thumb brushed gently along the edge of your coven mark, the intricate chain of carved sigils that rested deep in your skin–a scar that never quite stopped whispering.

It wasn’t ink. It had been branded–sliced into you when you came of age, sealed with blood magic and bone ash, symbols of what you were bound to before you even had a choice.

His thumb traced the deepest cut–right near the base of your palm–then slowly, with such gentleness and care, he brought your wrist to his lips, closing his eyes before kissing the mark, like a vow. His lips were wet from the amount of times he had licked them, but you didn’t mind the dampness because the act itself was always something you loved–it was his way of expressing that he loved every part of you, even the ones people feared.

His eyes fluttered open, looking down at you for a second, seeing the soft, golden-haze that lingered over his naturally bright blue irises. His cheeks flushed even deeper when he saw the way you were looking at him–with the tenderness and love you had for him as a backdrop. He pulled off the mark.

”Sorry…” He murmured, voice a little shaky, “I know I do that a lot.” A small smile came up on your lips, as you shifted to get closer to his face, your bare chest dragging along him until you were eye to eye.

”I like it…You know I do. It makes me feel like you’re loving every part of me, not just the normal side.” You whispered, pushing a lock of his light brown hair out of his face so you could get a clearer look at him.

“You do the same though…” He replied, voice barely above a whisper, “With me, I mean…The Sentry, The Void…All of it,” He added, his eyes falling away from you for a moment, “You’ve never made me split myself up…Never forced me to hide anything or be just one…You just take all of it, all of me…Like it’s the easiest thing in the world.” Your hand slid down his cheek to cup his jaw.

“That’s because they don’t scare me, they’re not strangers, they’re just different versions of you, and I love all of them.” You could see the way his eyes softened from the words.

”Even…The Void?” He whispered, voice small and hesitant, like saying its name might conjure it by accident. You nodded, sliding your hand to the back of his neck, your thumb brushing along the little baby hairs that laid there.

”Even The Void Bob…Because it’s still you, and I love every version and every layer of you…Like I always say.” He went scarlet. His eyes flitting up to yours before immediately dropping again with a smile coming up on his lips. Beneath you, his chest fluttered like his heart wanted to bust out of its confines, but he didn’t pull away or hide from you.

”I love you too.” You kissed the corner of his mouth, and he let out a soft laugh, nose brushing against yours.

And just before he could lean in to kiss you.

The door slammed open with a crack that made Bob jump so hard he nearly flew off the bed. You groaned loudly and dropped your forehead against his shoulder with a thump, already knowing who it was.

”James Buchanan Barnes,” You snapped, “It better be important, because the next time you don’t knock, I’m going to make sure we’re doing something way worse than lying here, and you’ll be scarred for life.” Bob turned bright red from your words, blinking over at Bucky who stood with his arms crossed, holding a glossy magazine in his hands.

”Well good morning to you too, necromantic hellspawn,” He replied, “Get dressed. We’ve got a situation.” He added, tossing the magazine across the room, letting it land on the foot of the bed with a slap. Your entire posture shifted in an instant–from soft and pressed against him to rigid and coiled.

Your gaze dropped to the magazine now lying crookedly in front of you, and the photo on the cover hit you in the face like a slap.

There, under bold, gleaming headlines, was an image of you and Bob on the rooftop garden. The lighting was dusky, but you remember that day like it was yesterday. It was just as the golden hour was slipping behind the both of you. The both of you had gone up there to get some fresh air and talk, you had no clue you were being watched, and it was evident by the photo.

Your hand was cupped gently at his jaw, and his fingers were curled around your wrist, the two of you were so close your noses were touching, and it was clear–achingly clear–that you were just about to kiss. Your eyes trailed up to the headline above the image.

”DEATH AND DIVINITY: Inside the steamy new relationship between two of the world’s most powerful Avengers.” Your mouth fell open,

”What the fuck.” You breathed, which got Bob’s attention immediately. He sat up with you, the sheets slipping down his chest, and his hair flopping messily over his forehead as his eyes caught the front page of the magazine.

“W-What? What is it?” He asked, confused, like he was still trying to catch up. You were speechless, so all you could do was pull the magazine closer to him so he could get a better look. He took it out of your hands carefully, and squinted down at the image, then his face went red.

“O-Oh my god…” He whispered, his eyes going wide, “Is that…Is that us? When was this take-”

”Three days ago.” Bucky replied, cutting him off, “I remember because Yelena and I were playing poker in the surveillance room and we were both betting on how long it’d take before you two started kissing.”

“You were watching us?” You snapped.

”No, we turned the screens off before it got all mushy…But someone else was definitely keeping tabs.” He shot back, walking over to the bed to tap on the photo.

”This image is definitely not from the cameras. It’s way too zoomed in, and edited…This was a planted shot.” Bob’s brows furrowed, and you could see the way panic was rising behind his eyes.

“Are you saying someone…Snuck onto the roof?” Bucky shook his head.

”No, this was taken by someone who had access. If nobody apart from us knew…Then it must’ve been Val.” You went still, feeling the rage building in your chest–hot and thick, vibrating just beneath your skin.

”She fucking followed us and waited till we were alone to take these.” Bucky nodded.

”Probably sold them too,” He responded, “Page three has an ‘anonymous quote’ that’s oddly specific how the Sentry ‘looks at her like he’s made of light and she’s the only one who can hold it without burning.’” Bob’s jaw dropped.

”Wait…Wait, that's something you said to me,” He hissed, looking over at you. “I remember because you were sick–how does she know that?” Your hands curled into tight fists against the sheets.

”Because she’s been listening.” Your voice was colder now–quiet and laced with venom, “She’s been watching us, and waiting for us to slip up.” Bob looked devastated at this information. His shoulders hunching forward, as he glanced over at you, showing the guilt that was creeping in behind his eyes.

”I’m so sorry,” He whispered, “I shouldn’t have kissed you on the roof, I should’ve–“ You cut him off, raising your hand up.

”Don’t do that. We didn’t do anything wrong. She did.” Bucky exhaled loudly through his nose.

”You’ve got maybe three hours before this becomes a press frenzy. I would recommend figuring out what kind of damage control you want to do.” You glanced down at the magazine again and looked up at Bucky,

”Is killing Valentina on the list of options?” You muttered, voice flat and simmering.

“Could be arranged, “ He replied, deadpanning, “Might take a few minutes for Yelena and Walker to collect their matching shovels though.” Your lips curled faintly, but the rage still burned beneath your eyes like hot coals. You were already calculating how you could make her life a living hell, and you didn’t know how extreme you wanted to go.

But then you glanced at Bob, seeing the way his eyes were glancing between the photo and the headline. He looked overwhelmed, and it automatically diffused the feelings you had towards Valentina, because she wasn’t the person you cared about the most…It was him.

You reached out immediately, placing your hand over his, curling your fingers so they were pressed against his palm. He looked up at you, seeing that the colour in his eyes had faded into a grey.

”Hey. We’re okay Bob…You’re okay…We will get this handled and I promise we will be fine, alright?” He nodded slowly, swallowing hard.

“I just…I just wish people didn’t see us like that…That’s just for us…” You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment to let the contact settle him, before pulling away.

”They don’t know anything about us, and no matter how they spin it, or how they plaster it on the headlines they will never be able to really understand what we have. That part is only for us to share…I will make sure we won’t have to answer to anyone about our relationship, okay?” He looked at you then, and in that moment you watched the panic retreat from his eyes, like a wave sliding back into the sea. His eyes shifted back to blue, like you had diffused a ticking time bomb.

”Okay…” He whispered, his breath catching a little, “I trust you.” You squeezed his hand once more, before turning back to Bucky who was leaning against your dresser with his arms crossed.

”Set up an emergency meeting,” You said, your voice sharp, “And make sure Valentina is going to be there. I want this handled now.” You added.

”On it,” Bucky replied, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “Do you want me to tell Yelena to bring her blowtorch?” You exhaled through your nose.

”Tell Yelena no weapons…With all the rage in me, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to handle it.” Bucky smirked, thumbing open his phone.

”Duly noted.” He muttered, “No backup required in the weapons department.” He added.

He was halfway to the door when it opened again, and this time Alexei strutted in like he was arriving at a red carpet event, waving his own copy of the same magazine above his head with pure delight on his face. He looked like he had just won the lottery.

”Death and Divinity!” He boomed, accent heavy and dramatic, “This is sexy, yes? Sounds like vampire opera.”

“Oh god,” You muttered, pressing your fingers into your tear ducts.

“Oh Jesus,” Bob added, sinking slightly lower into the bed, trying to shield his face away from the world.

Alexei, undeterred, flipped through the pages.

”Page four has nice photo. Very very romantic. You are holding his face like he is scared little mouse, and he is looking up at you like you are moon goddess. Very touching.” You groaned again and lobbed your pillow at him, only for him to catch it.

“Alexei,” Bucky growled, already herding him towards the door, “Out…And change that attitude, we need to be a solid front line for these two at the emergency meeting.”

————

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, you didn’t know what exactly you were expecting–but the moment your eyes landed on Valentina, standing smugly at the end of the conference table with a martini in one hand and a matching smirk on her mouth, something sharp and electric lit up in your chest.

She was in a sharp navy power suit, tailored within an inch of its life, not a single wrinkle was in sight. Her heels clicked softly as she turned to face all of you fully, a smile spreading across her lips, while she spread her arms open like she was about to congratulate you.

”There’s the stars of the hour!” She cooed, “The public loves you. Death and Divinity–absolutely genius. Not something I created unfortunately, but it’s still absolutely amazing.

Your steps echoed across the floor as you approached her. Bob stayed close behind you, quiet but tense–his fingers wrapped around one of your fingers while the other one picked at his sleeve. Mel was standing off to the side with her arms crossed, looking at the team you had brought, who were already looking over at her with judgemental gazes, like she had betrayed them.

But it was you Valentina was looking at, as your body slowly casted a shadow across her.

”YOu took a photo of me and the person I love, in a private moment, and sold it to the press without our consent. You’ve been eavesdropping, manipulating, and spying for weeks…And you think we came up here to thank you? For a fucking magazine cover of all things?” Valentina blinked slowly, taking a sip from her glass before putting it down on the table.

”A front cover,” She corrected, unbothered by the rage that was twitching behind your eyes, “On twenty-nine different newsstands worldwide! You’re welcome.”

“Welcome?” Your voice cracked slightly–heat rising beneath your skin, as Bob’s fingers squeezed your one, “You’re using our relationship like it’s a fucking PR stunt.”

“And it worked.” She stated simply. You stared at her, jaw locking. You were pretty sure the lights above the table dimmed for a fraction of a second–like your body was going to snap on her at any second. You stepped in closer to her, but her smile didn’t falter, if anything, it widened, like she was proud of you for showing up with your claws already bared.

”You better have a good fucking explanation,” You said, your voice low and venomous, “Because if I don’t like the next sentence out of your mouth Valentina, I swear on every grave I’ve ever raised–you’ll be joining them.” She let out a short, delighted laugh, and cocked her head slightly to the side.

”You are so dramatic,” She said, her tone leaning on the side of condescending, “It’s charming really.” Bob shifted behind you, and his hand tightened around your fingers, almost like he was grounding you, like he was draining you of what you were feeling, just a little bit.

”We didn’t mean for it to go this far,” Mel chimed in, taking a step forward, “It was a strategic decision–“ You didn’t even turn your head, you just held up your free hand, your palm curled and open.

A faint, eerie green glow pulsed from the center of it–low and steady like a heartbeat in the dark.

”I didn’t ask you,” You said, voice cold as ice, “I asked Val.” The glow made the room go still. Yelena, straightened up ever so slightly, exchanging glances with Alexei, and Walker. Ava gave Bucky a small nudge, almost like she was expecting him to step in, but he remained silent, locking eyes with Valentina like he was daring her to keep going.

Val let out a long exhale, then finally stepped closer to you.

”Do you honestly think the world wants The Winter Soldier as the face of the New Avengers?” She said, voice low, as if she were explaining something to a child who didn’t understand how the world worked, “A walking weapon with a kill count in the hundreds–possibly thousands–most of which are caught in grainy footage? He may be rebranded but you can’t slap a new label on a nuclear warhead and expect the public to forget what it is.” Your jaw clenched so tightly your teeth hurt.

”He was pardoned for all that. Cleared. Redeemed publically. Then he got elected…For y’know…Congress? Remember that? Oh and let’s not forget when Bob went all…Well y’know and he saved New York with all of us.” Yelena cut in, motioning to Bucky, coming to his defence. Val’s eyes glanced over to where Yelena stood, her expression turning unreadable for a moment–like she was weighing whether or not it was worth vocally sparring with her. But then she waved her hand dismissively.

”Doesn’t matter,” She said, as though the conversation was beginning to bore her, “The public only sees what you show them, and as much as you parade redemption papers and congressional ribbons around, it doesn’t erase people's memories. We had the opportunity to give you all a better image, one that isn’t cluttered, and we took it.” You tilted your head slightly, now pointing your open palm at her, which made Bob slowly pull you behind him so there was space between you and Val in an attempt to diffuse the anger pulsing through you.

“Cluttered?” You echoed from behind him, trying to look over his broad shoulder.

“Yes, cluttered,” She repeated, “Between Bucky’s guilt complex, Yelena’s PR liability, Alexei’s Cold War nostalgia tour, Walker's entire existence, and Ava who is always on the brink of leaving, it’s chaos…But now?” She gestured broadly towards the both of you, “Now the public sees something beautiful, something they can sink their teeth into.” Bob’s eyebrows furrowed.

”B-But we’re a team…It’s not just Y/N and I…We’re not at the forefront, it's all of us…” He explained quietly.

“Come on Robert…You think the world wants realism?’ She said with a dry laugh, “They want symbolism, they want a reason to believe in what we’re building here.” She motioned around her.

”Then…Why don’t you actually build something real then…Instead of putting our relationship on full display for the public.” Val’s eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth lifting like she was enjoying being challenged.

”You think you’re not already at the forefront?” She said, voice honeyed and sharp, “That’s adorable. You’re a god in a golden shell. You were born for the spotlight, all I’m doing is pointing it in the right direction.” Then the elevator dinged.

”Now get ready for your closeups.” She added, with a smile on her face.

I saw Thunderbolts and now I'm having Bob brain worms 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

NSFW below

Imagine being the bossy 'mean' gf of him. Guard dog girlfriend vibes (not that he even needs it lmao, at least physically). He's awkward and apologizes too much and doesn't stand up for himself as much as he should. Then there's you. Assertive, bossy, "he asked for no pickles" type of girlfriend. When you're around, he gives off submissive ass vibes. "Yes dear" "no dear" "whatever you want, honey"

Yelena and Walker make jokes that he's like your little puppy.

No one would suspect how he rips off your panties, bends you over your desk, and fucks the meanness out of you. And fuck, he's so strong that you can't even try to get away from how good he's making you feel. He's hitting your sweet spot without even trying, all while telling you how much of a little bitch you are, being so bossy to him.

"Not so tough now. Look how sweet you are once you get some attention, hm?"

He gets into this headspace that melts away his anxiety, fully knowing you're into him being like this.

"Such a sweet girl, happy to let me use you, aren't you, honey?"

You nod embarrassingly fast and let out a moan when he leans over you, his lips seeking out your neck.

"Just need someone to put you in your place. It's okay, honey. You boss me around out there, and I'll fuck you like a toy in here, deal?"

(He doesn't pull out btw)

Too Sweet - Jschlatt

Part 3

Masterlist

Reader is a math teacher who finds her computer science teacher coworker an asshole. Schlatt finds his algebra/geometry coworker very annoying. What happens when they are forced to be around each other and get along?

You see a text message alerting you that Ted is outside your apartment, waiting on you. You grab your purse and make your way to his Tacoma. When you open the passenger side door, Ted smiles at you. “You are full of school spirit,” he says, looking at your outfit.

You decided to wear a t- shirt with your school mascot and corduroy pants of your school color. You also have a pretty headband and earrings to match. “We are going to a game. I am showing my support. Also I wore this to school,” you tell him.

“Well I didn’t see you at school today.” Ted gives you a slight disappointing look.

“I had a lot to catch up on before the weekend started.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

“It had nothing to do with our recent lunch guest?” Ted asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope definitely not,” you say.

Ted just rolls his eyes at you. After a few minutes, you arrive at the baseball fields. You both make your way to the gate. “Hello Ms. (Y/L/N) and Mr Nivision. You don't have to pay since you’re both teachers,” Daisy, a past student of yours, tells you.

You both thank her and walk inside. You make your way to the stands taking a seat towards the back. You look out and see Schlatt throwing a ball to a few players in the outfield. You find it annoying how good he looks. His muscular arms flex with each throw. His thick thighs are even more noticeable in the baseball pants he has to wear.

“I’m going to get some popcorn. Do you want anything?” You ask Ted. You decide that you need a distraction and the concession stand sounds like the best option.

“Sure. Popcorn sounds good. Do you want me to go with you?” Ted asks. He hands you a few dollars.

“No, I'll be right back. Also keep your money, I got it.”

Ted smiles at you as he puts his money back. You make your way over to the concession stand. While you wait in line, you see Schlatt go behind the concession stand and grab an orange Gatorade. When it is your time to go up, Schlatt’s attention turns towards you. “Oh hey (Y/N), didn’t think you were actually going to show up. Is Ted here?” he asks you, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah we carpooled,” you tell him. You turn to the parent volunteering, “Can I get two popcorns?”

“That will be three dollars,” she tells you.

You pull the money from your purse and give it to the woman, but Schlatt stops you. “Just put it on my tab, Jennifer. She’s a friend of mine.” The word friend threw you off, but maybe he is just saying it for Ted. It is obvious that one of the popcorns is for him.

Jennifer gets up to grab the popcorn. “It’s three dollars. You didn’t have to do that. I can pay for myself,” you tell him.

“Exactly, It's only three dollars. I’m the coach. I can get whatever I want.” Of course he is going to make this a thing. Instead of arguing, you just let it slide. Schlatt leaves soon after since the game is about to start.

Jennifer returns with your popcorn bags. You thank her and go back to Ted. He takes a bite as soon as you hand him the bag.

You both watch the game, enjoying your popcorn. You are quite impressed with how well the boys are playing. You don’t really understand baseball, but it’s obvious they are doing well based on the score.

Schlatt seems to be happy with their performance as well. You notice his smile as he pats Sawyer on the back when he gets a run. You think his smile is quite nice and you wish you could see it more often. You want to slap yourself for those thoughts. You knew they would only cause you more trouble.

By the eighth inning, you and Ted are fully invested in the game. The score is currently tied with both teams having two runs each. Right now there are two outs and two strikes. There is also a player on third and one of first. As soon as the pitch is thrown, Joshua hits it towards the outfield. He runs towards first at the same time the right fielder throws the ball in. The ump calls it an out. Schlatt comes out of the dug out obviously fuming by the bad call.

“What the fuck was that? He was safe!” Schlatt yells at the umpire.

“Cool it coach or else you’re out of here. First got to him before he ran past,” the ump tells him.

Schlatt groans, storming back. You can’t hear what he is telling his players, but you know he’s pissed.

You and Ted give each other a look, not sure what to do or how to react. You both just watch the game.

The game ends soon after with the opposing team winning by one run. Even though you are ready to go home, Ted tells you that he told Schlatt he would wait on him. You really don’t feel like waiting on Schlatt especially since he is probably not in a good mood.

“Are you hungry? Schlatt mentioned a pizza place we could try,” Ted suggests.

“I could eat,” you tell him. “Do you know how long he will be?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s not like we have anything better to do than wait.”

You notice a few players leaving and they all look fed up. After about 30 minutes, Schlatt walks out of the locker room, fully changed. “You guys didn’t have to wait on me. You should have just gone home,” Schlatt tells you both.

“It’s no worries. I am treating you to pizza. You deserve it after tonight,” Ted tells him.

Schlatt gives him a small smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry this is the game you came to. We usually play better than that.”

“The boys did great. Just a few bad calls. I’m glad we came out,” you tell him. Even though the game didn’t go as well as Schlatt would have liked, you are glad you were able to watch.

The three of you make your way to the pizza place to enjoy a meal. The conversation is going quite well. “How long have you two been together?” Schlatt asks.

You choke on your drink while Ted starts laughing. “As much as I love (Y/N), we are just friends,” Ted explains.

Schlatt looks at you both, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I thought you were a couple. A few students had said something about it,” Schlatt admits.

“And you trusted them?” You ask with a slight laugh. “Theatre guys aren’t really my type.”

Ted sticks his tongue at you. “Well Math nerds aren’t my type.”

“Math nerds aren’t too bad. Especially when they dress up for every occasion,” Schlatt says, looking directly at you.

You feel yourself start to blush. Is he flirting with you? Why was he not being an ass? Was he waiting until he knew you were single? It all seemed strange, but you weren’t going to complain.

The rest of the night goes quite well. The three of you talk and laugh like you have been friends for years. You feel like things between you and Schlatt are starting to look up. You hope that it continues that way because as much as you hate to admit it, you enjoy Schlatt’s company as well as his stupidly good looking face.

A/N: things are finally happening (sort of)! I’m not sure how I feel about this story… maybe I can make it better and more exciting but I’m not sure. Anyways let me know what you think. I’ll be answering some of my reqs soon as well.

I just recently discovered this song London by badflower and I think it’d be SO good for a schlatt fanfic..🤭🤭

New York- Jschlatt

Masterlist

Link to song

Your job has been stressing you out. Even though you love your students, teaching is too stressful. You thought the breaks would be helpful, but everytime you come back to work it is too much.

“How was your day?” Your boyfriend, Jay asks over the FaceTime call. You met him when he lived in Austin, but now he is back in New York where he grew up. You have lived in Texas your entire life, so you don’t know much different.

You let out a sigh. “It was okay. Behaviors were not great. I had a student argue with me, one not following directions, and a few just did not understand the lesson no matter how many times I explained it,” you tell him. There were more things that happened, but they were all common things.

“I’m sorry, Toots. That sounds awful. I don’t know why you keep putting yourself through all this stress.”

“I have to. I need the money to live and I also can’t let my students down.”

“I’ve told you this before, but come move to New York. Quit your job and live with me. You won’t have to worry about anything,” he assures you. Of course it sounded like a great idea, but it was unrealistic.

“I would love to, but I can’t. I can’t just rely on your money. That would not be fair to you,” you tell him.

“It would be no issue. I would love to spoil you. If you are worried about not doing your keep, you can watch the cats, do some chores, and cook.”

“I don’t want to be a trad wife,” you laugh.

“Then I’ll do the chores. I can’t promise I’ll be the best cook, but I can learn,” he tells you. Your heart swells in your chest. You can’t believe how incredibly lucky you are to be with him. He just wants you to be happy no matter what he has to do.

“Okay. How about I finish out the school year then I’ll put in my resignation. We can work on moving this summer.”

“Really?” Schlatt asks with a big smile on his face.

“Yeah I think you’re right. I am only twenty-five, I need to live life the way I want to. I want to spend my life with my amazing boyfriend and not be stressed everyday.”

“Sounds like a plan, Angel. I’m holding you to it though. You better not back out on me.”

The rest of the call continues with making steps to follow through with the plan. The more you talk, the more excited you feel. You feel like things are finally starting to look up.

You check the time on your phone which shows it’s nearing eleven meaning it’s almost midnight in New York. “It’s getting late and I have work tomorrow. I will call you later! I love you so much,” you tell him.

“I love you too, darling. Get some sleep. Jambo and (REDACTED) said they love you too and are excited for you to come live with us.”

You smile at your phone as you end the call. You press it to your chest, feeling excited about the future.

A/N: this one was a quickie but it was such a cute idea! I agree that this song is perfect for Schlatt. Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think! Also please send in reqs so I can continue to write!

Jschlatt P🌽⭐️ Links Pt2 🥰💦

REAL PORN 18+‼️⚠️HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!💘

1✨- denying schlatt an orgasm. he loves to get you overstimulated to the point where you can’t see straight or think properly and when you can’t hold it anymore, he makes you wait….but tonight you getting your own pay back. watching him squirm and whine under you while begging to let him cum gives you that rush of power that you know schlatt gets when he does this to you…it’s so addicting maybe you should dominate more often….

2❤️- schlatt loves girls in skirts or dresses. he loves the way you look when you are wearing a pretty little skirt when he takes you out. he can’t help but show you off a little and maybe just maybe when your not looking sneak a glimpse of what’s up your skirt. he can’t wait to take you home and lift up that skirt and fuck you senseless. to his surprise though, you knew this was gonna happen. so you didn’t wear any panties.

3💦- schlatt will cum anywhere. but his favorite place is your face. epically after he just got done face fucking you for acting like a brat and talking back. he has you pinned to the bed, abusing your throat when your tongue does that one thing that sends him over the edge. he quickly pulls out of your mouth groaning loudly as his warm cum spews from his cock and onto your face…getting it all over and messing up your makeup (if your wearing any) then after he cums he puts it back into your mouth starting up again.

4👅 & 5😋- schlatt is a MUNCH! he loves to eat pussy. epically if you had a bad day at work. you come home frustrated and slightly hurt from a stressful day at work and he asks you what he can do to make you feel better. you look at him with a smirk and telling eyes and he knows exactly what to do. next think you know, you’re arching your back and curling your toes moaning as schlatt’s eats you out. all the stress and frustration melts away as you give into the ecstasy you are feeling. your eyes are closed and you have a smile on your face. you give him sweet and encouraging praises to motivate him to keep going. but he’s not gonna stop until your absolutely satisfied…

6💪🏻- schlatt is so much bigger then you. he likes to remind you that he’s 6’3 and 250 pounds not just by telling you but by showing you too. when he’s feeling really dominant and powerful, he’ll push all his weight into you with every thrust making it feel like the wind is being knocked out of you. your moans are strained and your knuckles are white from gripping the bed sheets so tightly. his whole body envelops yours as a protective shield. he likes you like this. he likes making you feel small, like he has to protect you. he looks down at the moaning mess he has created and gives your forehead a kiss then smiles. he feels a sense of of possessiveness, protection and power

7😵‍💫- throat training. you haven’t deep throated before. been too scared it will hurt or fuck up your throat. schlatt was ok with taking it slow and letting you do what you can handle but he knows you can take it deeper and harder. so he’s been making you practice taking him deeper in your throat. he goes slow the first few days just taking it little by little. he knows he has a pretty big and thick cock, so he’s not gonna rush into anything out of the fear of making you uncomfortable and hurting you. but after a week you start getting better and more comfortable so he starts to step it up a notch. he starts to be a little more rough and faster. soon enough you get the hang of it and you can take his entire length down your throat. he’s so proud of you. he praises you as he watches your throat burgle with his cock.

8🥰- aftercare….aftercare is really important to you and schlatt. it doesn’t matter what type of sex you both just had he always needs a moment to cuddle with you and hold you close. as he holds you he strokes your hair out of your face. he kisses your forehead and peppers your face in kisses. he rubs you back gently in a comforting motion but can help but grab at your ass giving it a firm squeeze or a soft pat. he tells you how great you did and how much he loves you, loves being with you, holding you, protecting you etc. after just laying there for a few moments he finally gets up. sometimes he’ll go for a cigarette because he always has to have one after sex. or if you both just had some really intense messy sex he take you into the bathroom and you’ll both get a shower to clean up.



Reblog this to place a small flower in the hair of prev, and that you're very proud of them

Uhhh, so can I request something about Wolverine where both he and reader have a crush on each other but he won't show it and she is too afraid of rejection to confess, however, when Xavier sends reader to talk to Wolverine about their mission, she walks into his room and finds him top topless which only frustrates her more and leads to Logan noticing that and taking his chances to check her feelings 😓 Ahem you can make it NSFW according to the last thing I implied to 👀 hopefully this is not too out of character but I really crave any content about this man 😓😓😓

Also excuse my language if there are any mistakes, English us not my first language 🫡

SFW! Wolverine/GN!Reader

This is such a good prompt!! I hope this does justice for your vision!! Also- don't worry, your English is very good!! Hope it's okay that I implied NSFW instead of wrote it out explicitly. I didn't quite have the energy to get that far 😭

TWs: not many. Miscommunication. Reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned.

Anyone around the mansion could tell that something weird was going on between you and Logan.

You were always really jumpy and nervous around him. You'd squirm and fiddle with your hands when sat next to him, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else. You could be quick to lose your temper at him sometimes and you clearly dreaded training sessions with him. Most people just thought you hated the man, but the one time Jean had seen a peak into your mind she certainly knew the truth. The professor probably knew too, to be honest.

You were hopelessly pining for the man- But you'd never, ever confess to him. He was in love with Jean. He had been in love with Jean for years. There was no chance he ever had feelings for you. So- instead of facing these feelings, you had a bad tendency to run from them. Being around him made you jittery and nervous, sitting next to him made your heart beat crazily and you had a short temper with him because he was always running headfirst into danger. It didn't matter that he had a healing factor, you didn't like that he was endangering himself like that.

Logan, on the other hand, was always stoic. He treated you like any other X-man or friend. It didn't matter how his heart fluttered around you or the heat that rose to his cheeks every time you did something particularly attractive, he wasn't exactly an expert in love. He certainly had a hard time showing it. What he did notice though, was the change in your demeanor lately. You had been acting so strange, and it's gotten to the point where you'd straight up leave the room when he would enter, and he was frustrated. Logan was starting to get fed up with your newfound attitude, and despite Jean's gentle nudging, he certainly wasn't going to tell you what he felt for you. What he thought about you. If anything, It would give you more of a reason to hate him.

You had been successfully avoiding Logan for a while, having been in a particularly good mood today. That was until the professor pulled you aside and asked- well, told you to brief Logan about the upcoming mission. Your heart immediately dropped into your stomach. You, alone with him? In the same room? The professor was tasking you to dive into your own personal hell- and there was no way he didn't know that! All he did when you began to complain and make excuses was smile knowingly at you.

You swore that you had dissociated the entire time you had been walking to his room. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to be here, you didn't want to talk to him. Nope! You were absolutely dreading it.

You Knock three times. After a second of silence, you already find yourself overthinking your knock. Was it too loud? Too quiet? Maybe he could already smell it was you, and is just ignoring the knock so he doesn't have to look at your stupid flushed face-

"Come in." Okay, So, not that. You open his door slowly, not wanting to seem too eager to enter. You're looking down at the paperwork the entire time, mouth already running with the time of day everyone would be leaving, Which suits to wear, where you were going. You don't even look up until after the door has already been shut.

"There's a few more factors that need to be taken account of when we manage to get a better survey of the location but-" You yelp when you look up, greeted by a shirtless Logan, clothed only by a low-hanging pair of gray sweatpants. You're quick to cover your eyes, face burning from a mixture of embarrassment and... well, something else.

"For the love of god, Logan!" You gasp. You can hear Logan chuckle at your reaction, and the action lights a spark of anger inside of you.

"The least you can do is be decent when you invite me in!" You snap at him. He huffs a little at the change of tone, meanwhile you're trying your absolute best to forget how you practically saw everything in those sweatpants. You hear him take a few steps forwards until he's standing so close you can feel the heat from his body.

"So what? You've patched me up before. It's not like you've never seen me naked." Logan sounds annoyed, and you feel guilty for your reaction for a moment. You sigh, shaking your head.

"That's different." You say. Logan hums.

"Is it really?" His tone is teasing, and you almost feel humiliated. He's making fun of you. Of course he was. You were absolutely hopeless.

"Look, Just forget it. Take the damn papers and read the brief yourself." Your eyes are still closed as you slam the papers into what you think is his chest and try to turn to leave, but Logan grabs your arm. He doesn't even try to pick them up as he grabs the top of your arms, keeping you from running away as he walks you backwards.

"Look, I get that I'm not the easiest guy to get along with, but ya' never had a problem with me before. What's happened?" Logan's words start out rough, but if you didn't know any better you'd think that there was a little vulnerability leaking into his tone. You gasp as the surface of the cold door hits your back. You keep your eyes firmly shut, still not willing to open them and look at him. You didn't want to see his face, worried that you'd blush even more or he'd manage to figure it out- if he hadn't already. He'd just make fun of you. He wouldn't take you seriously. Would he?

"Nothing. Nothing has happened, happy?" You say, nerves creeping into your unsteady voice. It's hardly a lie, nothing really happened, but Logan had a habit of stiffing out dishonesty. He growls, and the sound makes your skin prickle.

"Don't lie to me. You can hardly look me in the eye." Logan growls. You scoff at him.

"That's not true!" A blatant lie, and you were sure it was obvious. Still, part of you was hoping he'd simply let it go. You should have known better, because everyone under the sun knew that Logan was one of the most stubborn men on the planet

"Prove it. Look at me." His words make you hesitate. You frown, not wanting to give in. Unstoppable force meets unmovable object- but with every push you feel your nerves start to go shot. You were anxious, flustered, worried- you just wanted it to all be over. If you just opened your eyes, it would all be over.

"Open your eyes, doll." You can feel Logan's breath fan across your face, and in the mix of shock, you finally open your eyes. Logan is so close to your face you can feel his breathing. You hardly know where to look, face flushing red as you blush as the close-contact. You get nervous when you make eye contact, gaze flittering about from his nose, to his ears, his sideburns, and to his lips. You must have let your eyes linger there for a little too long, because Logan starts to chuckle at you. You feel the sting of embarrassment. Logan sees something in your face shift, and knowing you'd just pull away again, he takes a shot in the dark.

Logan kisses you, and you have no clue how to respond to that at first. You go wide-eyed for a moment, but his hands let go of your arms and wrap around you and you cant help but melt into the kiss. He's a good kisser. I mean, with years of experience, you knew he would be. But getting to experience that yourself gave you a whole new perspective to it. He cups the back of your neck as he draws you in for another kiss, again and again. You're breathing hard when the two of you finally separate, Logan being mostly unbothered besides a small smile and a red tint to his cheeks.

"All that drama, and it's because you had feelings f'me. Heh." -is the first thing he says. You gasp, offended.

"Oh-shut up. S'not like you're any better than I am." You frown, sliding a hand around the back of his neck to yank him closer. "Seriously, you weren't exactly dropping hints." Logan chuckles again, Before hooking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up and against him. You yelp as he does so, getting flustered when you realize that you could now feel everything that you had been trying to forget seeing earlier.

"I'm kissing you now, aren't I?"

can I request old man Logan where he’s looking for his glasses and he finds the reader sitting in his seat wearing them & teasing him how can he see without them. Then something primal inside him overcomes him to put her in her place

I hope that’s not too silly of a request I just drool over old man Logan especially with his glasses

you know i’m no good | logan howlett

i love this old man… i need him like air!!! ackkkk </3. tysm for sending this request in, we all need a grumpy logan in our lives :3 also i just read the old man logan comics and lord!!! i absolutely need to write more of himmmm

pairing: old man!logan x younger!reader

content/tags: NSFW minors dni, 18+ only, implied age gap (reader is in their 20’s), soft dom!logan, afab!reader, boot riding, smut, daddy kink, swearing, pet names (princess, doll, etc), a little bit of dacryphilia, logan refers to himself as an old man, porn w a lil bit of plot if you squint, crybaby!reader

you absolutely love the way logan’s glasses hang off of his nose bridge—always making sure when you’re peppering his face in kisses, you kiss the little bump that accentuates his features.

logan was a little embarrassed at first, wearing his glasses around you. thought it made him look older, already felt senile just taking them out of the case.

“c’mon!” you tease, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “i like the way you look in them,” you push him further, toying with the frames of his glasses.

“i look older in ‘em,” he says, playing off your kind words, “never was a fan of wearing them in the first place,” logan continues to drone on.

“charles says otherwise,” you snap back, your fingers playing where his glasses sit on his ears, flipping the glasses slightly up and down off his nose bridge.

logan chuckles, allowing you to continue playing with his glasses. “fine, i’ll wear ‘em,” he obliges much quicker than you thought he would—god knows the man loves to put on a fight.

but for you? he’d fold instantly. that’s what you do to him, you’re his little soft spot.

“only ‘cause you like it, princess.”

so when time passes, and you start to see him wear his glasses less and less, you decide to mess around with him a bit—give him a little surprise!

now here you are, sat in his armchair with a small smirk forming at the corner of your lips. your legs crossed, eyes peering up at him, but this time—his glasses perched on your nose.

logan approaches you slowly, his footsteps heavy, his figure towering over yours. he’s just come home from work, dressed up in his black and white suit, his tie slightly undone. he looks especially tired, like he’s had a long day.

“you broke your promise,” you trail off quietly, losing your smugness as logan looks down at you, his eyes sullen. “forgot these at home,” you continue, pointing at the glasses.

you try to ease the tension in the air by cracking a joke. “bet you couldn’t even drive straight without these.”

your words draw no reaction from logan. it’s painfully obvious that he’s drained from the day, and has no patience for whatever you have planned.

“i don’t have time for this,” he shrugs you off, pulling at your arm to get you up on your feet, “get ‘outta my spot, need to have some fuckin’ peace for once”.

you hate when logan gets like this, refusing to let you know what’s occupying his thoughts, keeping you in the dark—pushing you away.

so being the stubborn girl you are, you stay limp, refusing to move from the armchair. “no.” you retort, voice low and quiet.

logan can obviously lift you out of the chair with no issues, no tugging on your wrists or anything of the sort. but he sees that you’re at least trying to ease him up, make him feel the tiniest bit better. so he bites.

“can’t hear ‘ya, princess” logan says, the timbre of his voice gravelly, his eyebrow now raised, watching for your next move.

“no.” you respond sternly, shifting your weight further into the leather, tugging your arm away from his grasp.

something inside logan snaps. maybe it’s just ‘cause he had a bad day at work, or perhaps he just got riled up, seeing you get all bratty with him. knowing him, it was probably a combination of the two.

“no?” he mocks, sounding bitter as he lets out a tsk. “wrong fuckin’ answer, sweetheart.”

and that’s when the mood changes. the tension is still there, but there’s a shift. you feel your stomach turn, in a weird, twisted way—aroused by the way logan looks down at you with displeasure.

“need me to put you in your place, huh?” logan spits out, grabbing you by the wrist, finally pulling you out of the armchair.

taking little effort, he makes you stumble to your knees, your palms hitting the ground of the hardwood floor. you’re kneeled in front of logan, feeling foolish, stupid for trying to pester him after a long day.

“m’sorry,” you mutter, eyes glued to the floor, his glasses sliding low on your nose.

logan perches down to your height, bending down so that he’s level to your ears. “it’s a bit too late for apologies now, doll,” he coos, cupping your face with one of his hands.

he squishes your cheeks together, making it so that you’re looking up at him now. his eyes are sullen, facial features stern, the bags under his eyes a bit darker than usual.

streams of sorry, sorry, sorry is all you can manage let out of your pretty little mouth. you feel so guilty, upsetting him. sure, you had no ill intentions, but you know you pushed him—you should’ve just gotten out of the stupid chair, could’ve avoided this stupid mess.

the thoughts continue to drill into your brain, the regret. your eyes start to get teary, you just can’t help it. after everything that logan’s done, all the shit he’s been through, you didn’t wanna add onto his problems, cause any unnecessary stress in his life.

“don’t cry, princess” he consoles you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. logan steadies himself back up, seating himself into the leather armchair where you once sat.

you shift around, slotting yourself between his legs, your pink, teary eyes looking up at him. “m’sorry still, didn’t wanna make you mad,” you sniffled out, taking off his glasses, placing them on the coffee table.

you leaned your head against his leg, your cheek nuzzling into the fabric of his slacks, your tears staining the pants a darker shade of black.

logan looked down at you, his tired eyes admiring the way you sat below him, practically worshiping him. “you’re just needy for your old man, hm?” he says, patting your head gently as you continue to weep.

“can’t help it, lo,” you murmur, tears becoming less frequent as he continues to tangle his fingers in your hair. “you’ve been gone a lot.”

your eyes fall down to his black leather dress shoes, the stitching of the shoes frayed, the material slightly worn at the edges. your fingertips play with the toe of his boots, trying to ground yourself.

“i know, i know, doll,” he replies, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, his eyes catching the way you were staring intently at his shoes. “show me how much you missed me.”

your mind is still racing, trying to find a way to ease the pain you felt on your heart, the residing guilt you felt from earlier.

that’s ‘till you let your body think for itself, mindlessly hovering your clothed cunt on top of his boot. your breath stutters, trying to make sense of your actions, but it’s the last thing you wanna do.

all you want to do is turn your brain off—make sure that the pain goes away, that all your troubles could be temporarily solved.

“need this, need you,” you whine, placing yourself firmly on his boot, slowly grinding against him, pressing the temple of your head onto logan’s knee.

logan feels himself hardening at the sight of you getting off on him, his cock twitching as you paw at his slacks, your roaming hands finding their way to his crotch.

“fuck…” he hisses out, tilting his heels slightly upwards, making it so that the toe of his shoes angles right against your cunt. “my filthy girl just needed her old man to comfort her, yeah?”

you moan out in pleasure, your eyes shutting tight as you pace yourself, rutting against the rugged leather rhythmically. your cunt was leaking with your arousal, the excess slowly dripping down the sides of his shoes.

“missed you… so bad… d-daddy,” you cried out in between pants, your breath quivering, feeling the pressure in your core building up. “don’t know what i’d do… without ’ya…”

“you don’t need to worry about that, princess,” logan coos, “daddy’s right here,” he punctuates by nestling the toe of his shoe deeper inside your messy cunt.

“shut your pretty little brain off and keep riding me like that.”

Beg For It

(Logan Howlett x Reader Blurb)

Y'all it came to me in a dreammm lmao (I'm joking my brain is just so big and full of ideas I must bring to life-)

Enjoy~

"Beg for it."

You lift immediately, propping yourself up with your elbows. Its a bit awkward but you needed to know this mf was being for real.

"W-What?" You whine, having been brought to the edge countless times with the false promise of release on his tongue.

You're frustrated in the best way, hoping he'd give you some kind of grace.

"You heard me." He chuckles, the tip just barely sliding up and down your wetness.

You writhe, an impatient moan leaving your lips as he chuckles darkly at the attempt.

"Logan c'mon I've been good I-" You choke back a moan when he leans down, nipping at your collar bone, then up your neck to the shell of your ear.

"Yeah I know, but you always sound so pretty when you ask all nice. Lemme hear it?" He asks, this time pushing just enough for the head to slip into you.

"F-Fuck fine! Please." You huff, arching off the bed a bit, only for him to press one firm hand down on your lower tummy.

"Uh uh. You can do better than that."

His thumb toys with your clit, the stimulation all too much as you try and bring yourself or speak.

"Okay okay! Please I need you, please help me cum. I can't without you Logan I need it so bad." You whine, gripping his shoulders as he smiles.

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"Bastard- oh fuck!" You gasp, the stretch making your eyes flutter shut as he wrecks your pussy, the orgasm that had been building for hours now finally crashing down.

smoking out the window 🚬

i cant lie this fic is very self indulgent, but i had to share with y'all hehe <3 basically just smoking with logan, sitting in his lap, and yall end up gettin’ down and FREAKYYY.

pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader

warnings/tags: NSFW (minors DNI, 18+ only), smoking, pet names (bub, baby princess, etc.), old man!logan, boyfriend!logan, teasing, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, hair pulling, cumplay, cum swallowing, skull fucking

you’re seated criss-crossed in front of the fire escape, window cracked slightly ajar. you take a long inhale of your cigarette, letting the smoke sit in your mouth for a second before puffing out the rest through your nose.

your lips pull away from the filter, now tinted pink and slightly shiny from your lip gloss. you look over your shoulder to see logan let out a small chuckle, taking a drag from his cigar. you roll your eyes at him, tapping the end of your cigarette against the ashtray placed between you.

“yknow i already tried cigars… they’re just too big for me”. logan looks at you with a raised brow, a smug smile slowly creeping upon his face. you took a moment to process what you said, and how wrong it sounded out of context.

“hey! get your mind out of the gutter. you know what i mean,” you quipped, quickly taking a puff of your cigarette, playfully exhaling into his face to recant.

logan pays no mind to your games, simply shooing away the smoke with his free hand. “whatever you say bub…” he chuckles out, looking at you with a content smile.

he takes another hit from his cigar before sizing you up with his grim eyes. you were wearing a pair of sleep shorts, short enough to leave no room for imagination, with one of logan's flannels that you messily buttoned up this morning draping over your shoulders.

the domesticity of it all is what riled logan up. seeing you dressed up in his clothes, cuddled up in your small, but cozy, apartment bedroom, seated right in front of the fire exit. considering how hectic his life once was, nothing could compare to this.

“try it one more time, baby,” he requests, his pointer and middle finger signaling to come over to him. you rolled your eyes and reluctantly crawled your way over to him. he taps his lap with both hands, and you cozily fit into the thick embrace of his thighs.

you already know where this is going. he's done it once, and he'll do it again. you pursed your lips, your eyes quickly glancing over at his cigar, then promptly meeting his teasing gaze.

“c’mon, just about half of it is left. finish it with me, yeah?” he says with a sultry tone, tilting his head to the side.

“only cause you asked so nicely.” you replied, pressing your lips to the temple of his forehead, your left hand steadying yourself against his hips before you ruffle up his pointed tufts of hair with your right.

seating yourself back in his lap, you took the cigar from his hand, taking it in your own. you guide his calloused hand to the hem of your sleep shorts, his fingers finding purchase at the waistband, playfully tugging it back, allowing for them to snap back against your hips.

taking a deep puff, you let the smoke linger in your mouth as you would with your cigarette. the flavor was definitely more intense compared to the pack of reds you smoke daily. you immediately felt the buzz from the nicotine as the smoke coated your mouth in an almost oily film.

you're about to deeply inhale until you remember you're not supposed to actually inhale the smoke of the cigar. you catch yourself mid-breath, but you weren't fast enough to stop yourself. the bitter taste of the nicotine floods your throat, causing you to let out an unpleasant cough.

"careful there, princess", he teases you, his firm hand patting your back as you continued to cough. "don't wanna hurt yourself", he says chuckling to himself, finding your discomfort somewhat amusing.

you took a second to compose yourself, then joined in on logan's laughter. you pressed your forehead against his chest, snickering over how foolish you probably looked, choking on your own saliva.

"i told you s'too much!" you retort with a smile, nudging yourself deeper into his chest. you can smell the musk of his cologne mixed with the heady scent of smoke in the air; it was intoxicating how logan ran his fingers through your hair, his hands slowly finding their way to the small of your back.

you gently pull away from him, his arms wrapped around your waist, planting your hips against his, the flesh of your ass feeling his erection forming. a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips as you gently grind against him.

logan lets out a grunt as he feels the blood rush to his dick. peppering kisses along his neck, you slowly make your way up to his jawline. "baby, you're forgettin' something..." you lull, placing the cigar back between his lips.

you admire the way his muscles flex with every movement you make, almost syncopating to the rhythm of your hips. the way he matched your pace was addicting. "yknow..." you trail off, sliding yourself off of his lap, moving to kneel in front of him.

"cigars may be big for me... but there's something bigger that i can handle," you hum as you get on your knees, your figure now slotted between his bulky thighs.

placing your hands on his quads, your fingertips trace figure-eights against his jeans. you take a deep breath and rest your head on the inner of his thighs, your left hand working its way slowly to his crotch.

"you're so needy, bub" he whines out of the corner of his mouth, cigar still between his lips. his breath faltered as your fingers graze over the growing tent in his jeans.

"let me please you, lo. wanna make you feel good," you plead, your eyes looking up at him with an intense lust.

"f-fuck." he stutters as your fingers press harder against his erection "how can i say no to my baby?" he obliges, taking the cigar out of his mouth to light out on the ashtray.

you reach your hand out to grab his arm before he lights out his cigar, your grip on his bicep tightening as he gently tries to pull away from your grasp. "wait," you said hastily, "don't put it out yet".

he raises his eyebrow at your command, but doesn't push it any further. "got something planned, bub?" he asks, leaning back into the couch, manspreading wider.

you nod your head as you work at his belt nimbly, slithering the leather around and off of his waist, metal buckle of the belt clanking silently against the plush carpet that your knees rested on.

as you push his jeans and boxers down, his cock springs out, bouncing back against his stomach. his tip was already red, leaking with precum. you admire the length and girth of his dick as you run your tongue along the underside of his cock.

tracing a vein with your tongue, you move from the base of his cock to his tip. logan moved his hands to cup your face, fighting the urge to push himself down your throat as you continued to tease him slowly. "ah f-fuck," he winces, as you press a wet kiss to his tip.

"quit taking so damn long, princess," he adds, your hot breath tickling him. the lewd sight of his pre mixed with your saliva forming a strand from your bottom lip to his tip made your core pulsate. you pushed your thighs together to alleviate the aching pain you felt.

seductively licking your lips, your mouth finds its way back wrapped around his girthy cock. you slowly ease yourself all the way down him as the tip of your nose presses against his pelvis.

breathing through your nose, your lips make their way up his length, making sure to savor the way his tip rested against your tongue. tracing his slit carefully, you lick up his leaking precum, making sure not to miss a single drop of it.

"fuck yeah-", he hisses out, taking a hit. as he exhales the smoke, he grabs a fist full of your hair, now taking control of your movements. he thrusts into your mouth at a rapid and shallow pace, the slap of skin against skin filling the room.

his unrelenting pace made your pussy throb harder; the way he looked as he stood above you, manhandling you, using you, practically as a fucktoy, made you see stars.

eventually he slowed down his pace, his strokes becoming deeper, more sensual. "still with me, bub?" he asked, his eyes locked with your own as he continued to throatfuck you. "mmmh." you answered, with a fucked-out gaze.

"good," he hummed, loosening his grip on your hair. "gonna need you to be a good girl for me, princess." he gives the temple of your forehead a light kiss, his salt-and-pepper beard tickling your hairline.

a split second after the kiss, he retightens his fist, gripping more of your hair than before, and pushes you down the length of his shaft vigorously. the sudden gesture makes you wince around him.

unable to breathe through your mouth, you gag around him. the walls of your throat squeeze tightly along logan's length, making him wince out in pleasure. unable to control himself, he firmly plants his left hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place, as his right brings his cigar back to hips lips.

logan takes a long drag from the cigar, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, blowing away the smoke. "stay right there for me, bub... i know y'can do that for me, yeah?" he says with a smirk, keeping his eyes on you.

you grunt in response, breathing heavily through your nose to keep the little composure that you had. still gagging around his cock, your vision began to get blurry as tears began forming.

"shit, im coming-" logan groans out, harshly pumping his cock even further into your throat. with each thrust of his hips, a moan escaped from you, followed along with a gag. the mix of pain and pleasure was intoxicating.

soon after his announcement, you feel the thick ropes of his cum sliding along your esophagus. the heady taste of his cum coats your mouth and lips; the salty and sweet tang grounded you from your mind blanking as he continued to skullfuck you.

it felt like an eternity before logan released you from his firm grasp. you slipped your lips off of him, now resting your head on his thigh. you cough a little bit, and your nose starts to drip.

"still think my dick's too big for you to handle?" he teases, tucking a stray strand of your bangs behind your ear. you shake your head no, flashing him a lazy smile. he brings the cigar to your lips for you to take a hit.

"atta girl."

Logan Howlett (the Wolverine) missing you and thinking of you blurb (SMUT)

thought of this as soon as i saw the gif and as well as listening to Chappell Roans song “Picture You” 🥺💕 sorry i know it’s a WL song but it felt so perfect for this little blurb 🫶🏽

“Oh I need you around, I’m getting close now” is the lyric that loops in my head when reading this 🫣

P.S this is not cannon to the XMen films/lore on Wolverines’ healing ability 😭 so please excuse my crappy rendition of it :(

Logan turned on the shower water to the hottest setting. He was exhausted and it had been a long day trying to catch up to Magneto. He was frustrated on the mission and frustrated on the fact he hadn’t been able to see you in so long. The hot water burning his skin as he’d suck a breath through his teeth as it sent a burning and ripping sensation through his body at the open wound on his shoulder where water trickled in; the water running a light pink color as blood mixed with it and ran down the drain. He missed being in your warm embrace and waking up next to you. The way you’d care for him when he had fragments stuck in his body from Magnetos horrible ways of toying with him since his skeleton was completely bonded with metal. Logan’s frustrations slowly manifesting into arousal as he concentrated more on you. The way you’d hungrily kiss him when he’d get back home, practically begging him to take you then and there. Logan ran his hand down to his abdomen to his cock as he slowly stroked it, resting his free hand on the cold bathroom wall, hot water pouring down his face. The way you’d kiss his jaw and lick a stripe up his neck as you’d straddle his lap and tell him how badly you’d missed him throughout the time he was gone. Logan whimpered as he’d think of how soft and warm you felt when he’d enter you; just how wet you were too, basically inviting him in with every inch of his being stretching you. The way your body reacted to his touch as your moans would get caught in your throat as he’d stretch you out; your cunt not being used to him being gone for so long, even if it was mere weeks. Logan tried to stifle his moans, picturing your rosy cheeks and the hazy look in your eyes, imagining his hand that was gripping his cock in a death grip was your tight cunt and the warmth of the water washing over him was your warm skin. He prayed in that moment that the guests in the next room over couldn’t hear his pathetic moans as he could feel the familiar tightening in his abdomen nearing. Logan envisioned how perfect you looked splayed out underneath him, having to always make sure he wouldn’t crush you under his weight; the feeling of your nails running down his back and how you’d dig your nails into his triceps when you’d be near orgasm, your broken moans turning into whimpers and pleas as you’d beg Logan not to stop. The hot water now coming out lukewarm, clouding his vision as he envisioned the way you’d scrunch up your face right when you were close, your mouth going slack as you’d throw your head back reciting his name in whimpers and whines like a prayer as your gummy walls would grip his cock, practically enveloping him perfectly into your womb. With one final deep thrust into his fist, Logan’s stifled groans turned into whimpers as he slowed his pace, feeling the cold water hitting his body and catching his breath. He washed his body, shivering and turned the faucet off. Oh how he wish you were here.

million dollar man | logan howlett

pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader

AN: my flo app says that today is the peak of my ovulation so umm..! explains why im writing this. anyways, here's a lil drabble about cryin’ out logan's name, beggin’ for your old man to fill you up <3 (i’ll prolly make more self indulgent fics like this in the future lol)

content/tags: NSFW, minors DNI (18+ only), rough sex, dacryphilia, daddy kink, porn without plot, slapping, mean!logan, dirty talk, pet names.

"so fuckin' tight for me," logan groans as his hands keep you in place, ass up, bent over, and folded in half over the dinner table. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the kitchen as he rams into you relentlessly.

he was fucking you senseless—balls deep into your cunt, a steady rhythm of greedily sucking him in, and your gummy walls reluctantly slipping him out. you threw your hips back in tandem with his thrusts, making the plush of your ass bounce against him.

"such a needy girl for your old man, huh?" he teases, rubbing your ass with the palm of his calloused hand. his touch lingered for a second, before you hear a loud slap echo throughout the room.

you wince out as the stinging pain starts to fester. "fuck!" you whine as he spanks you again, subconsciously gripping his dick tighter as his hand makes contact with your ass.

"dirty fuckin' whore," logan hisses, planting yet another slap against your ass. "need your daddy to fuck you rough tonight, huh?". you barely manage to choke out a yes as your body quivers beneath him.

he spots the way your fingernails dug into the wood of the kitchen table as he continues the assault on your ass and pauses his thrusts. letting out a small chuckle, he tugs at your wrists, making it so that your hands are behind your back.

"you said you're a big girl, right darlin'?" he taunts, unsheathing himself from your cunt, a white ring of your slick left around his girth. you whine at the loss of his cock, your cunt now twitching around nothing.

"now take my dick like one."

professor xavier who treats you like a gentleman should. he holds doors for you, he walks with his hand politely at your lower back, but never quite touches you without permission. he tells you how lovely you look, gives you kind smiles in the halls and always makes sure to say “hello” in the mornings.

professor xavier who likes to drop off books at your door that he thinks you might enjoy, always leaving a little post it on them that says “from charles xx”. he loves to feed your imagination and your mind in general, endeared by the way your eyes light up when he watches you read a particularly interesting passage.

professor xavier who knows exactly how you like your tea or coffee, always kind enough to make a cup for you whenever he’s in the kitchen. he fills his own tea full of sugar, so much so that you’re certain you could stand a spoon up in it. you wonder if that’s what keeps him so sweet.

and then there’s charles.

charles who pins you to the door in his office, his hands holding yours on either side of your head. his palms are pressed to your own, fingers threaded through yours as he kisses you slow and deep. you can taste the sugar from his tea on his tongue, making your head swim.

charles who presses his firm thigh between your own, smirking against your mouth at the way you gasp into his kiss. he doesn’t need to tap into your mind to know that you want this; he can feel you grinding down on his leg, your hips rocking back and forth slightly.

charles who gets a little mouthy, a little patronizing as he watches you squirm. “pretty little thing,” he coos, lips pressing against your throat. “i think you’re getting close.” he knows, of course, that you are. you’ve been desperately grinding against his leg, your own thighs trembling now. when you fall over the edge and gasp out his name, he hums low in his chest. “so gorgeous, darling. look so gorgeous coming like this,” he murmurs.

professor charles xavier knows exactly how to treat you every time, it seems.

ASMR | Marvel - Logan Howlett x Listener SFW Comforting Logan After A Nightmare

[M4A] [Established romantic relationship] [Reverse nightmare comfort] [Listener is a mutant, implied they have a healing factor] [Main timeline X-Men Movie Logan, takes place in the mansion, implied you're a fellow mutant and X-Men member, Jean is mentioned as being alive] [Vague enough you could imagine most Logan x canon character ships of your voice e.g. Wade, Kurt, Morph, Scott, Ororo, etc]

Based on a Patreon request, Moth asked "reverse nightmare comfort where Logan’s claws came out. he’s scared that he hurt us but were literally fine, just freaked out bc “wtf my boyfriend jumped straight out of bed” and we just comfort and hold him throughout the rest of the night (maybe he’s like “no i wanna stay up and protect you” but the second we run our nails through his hair, he’s humming and kneading at our clothes)"

.

Old public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]

Hi love, you have an amazing imagination, and I love your writing style. I was wondering if you could maybe do some more with Wolverine. I'm in that x men stage again. And I loved you last piece of work on him. Maybe you could do a continuation of it or think of something completely new. Anyway, dont feel pressured ❤️

A/N: ur actually so sweet, thank uu! I'm also rlly shocked but appreciative of all the love Professor Howlett received, so u don't even have to ask twice for more, it's my pleasure ;)

Divided Attention

Professor Howlett II

Part one

Warnings: minors dni, Smut, fluff, language, jealousy, (legal) age gap, oral, f!receiving, semi-public

Pairing: Logan x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Things were going well with you and Logan, until he suddenly put distance between you both, acting strangely. On top of that, you catch him threatening one of your fellow classmates and have no choice, but to face your issues, head-on.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Any small moment together, Logan and I chased. The little highs we could derive from our busy schedules, we eagerly pursued.

From a quickie in the janitor's closet, a make-out session after class, or a passionate sleepover, Logan consumed every inch of my life. He was consuming every bit of my mind, and an ominous trepidation was closing in, alongside him.

The more I saw him, the greedier I became. Desperate to see and feel more of him, beyond the surface. So, it was no surprise, that I soon desired something more from our casual relationship.

With graduation just around the corner, I was almost home free. Free to outwardly tell him what I yearned for.

But the concern that racked my brain constantly, that trepidation, was whether he wanted the same.

As I was getting to know him, it was clear there were parts of him I had yet to discover, parts he seemed reluctant to reveal. Sometimes he would be open, close by my side. The next second, he would shut down.

What made matters worse, was that recently, he hadn't sought me out. It's felt as though he's no longer hungry for those small moments, that I still very much craved.

Now I'm on edge and have no clue what he's thinking, or what he thinks of us.

...

The day started like any other. I went to each class, exhausted and disinterested, till that afternoon. Something caught my eye, and the eyes of the school's populace: Logan pinning a male student to the wall of the vast, oak wood hallway.

They speak in hushed tones to one another, and the boy looks beyond frightened, while Logan looks ready to tear his head from his scrawny neck.

It takes only a moment for my alarm to pass, and for me to note, that this boy sits next to me in history.

A sharp intake of breath hitches in my throat.

His name's Mikey, and he has been a nuisance to Logan from the get-go, long before our intimate affair. Labelled as the class clown, Mikey uses his obnoxious voice and meddling powers to disturb Logan's lessons, daily. To top it off, Mikey consistently bothers me, mimicking what I say, and staring at my profile, for far too long.

Just when Logan dips his head closer to Mikey, perhaps to rip out his jugular, like the predator he is, Scott interjects.

"Logan! Drop him!" When Scott's unnerved voice orders Logan, my eyes snap to Mikey's feet, which are spraddled in the air, dangling for dear life.

I guess a few days apart made me forget just how strong he is. Maybe he's just too gentle with me to remember.

As his feet slowly lower to the floor, gasps and murmurs flood the halls, and my head frantically shoots around, surprised by the crowd of avid onlookers.

Eyes anxiously surveying the students, I hone in on Logan again, flinching when seeing his pupils, already fixed on me.

He releases Mikey immediately, retracting from him while Scott grabs his bicep, heatedly whispering into his ear, and Mikey scrambles away.

Logan's eyes shy from mine and my mouth gaps. He almost looks, embarrassed. 'Huh?'

Soon, other teachers arrive to intervene, shooing students from the crime scene.

So, aimlessly wandering outside, into the courtyard, hoping to clear my head, I think back on our classes together. Every time Mikey acted up, Logan seemingly couldn’t care less, looking more spent overall, than unsettled by his brazen jokes.

It was kind of funny, seeing Mikey quaking in his boots at the older male. It was only yesterday, that he spoke to me with such forwardness, and to Logan with such rudeness, carrying that typical smug expression -it was nice to see it wiped clean.

I laugh to myself, disbelieving what just transpired. I can only imagine what errand Professor Xavier will make Logan do to atone, or what bonding exercise he and Mikey may perform...

While I trudge down the stone steps, onto the vivid green field, I spot the devil himself, Mikey. He sits under the shade of a grand willow tree, dome hung between his bent knees.

Feeling rather empathetic, I stroll towards him, stopping in front of his feet. Evidently noticing my bright attire, his head pops up, and his dewy eyes widen.

"You alright?" I ask warily and his bottom lip trembles. He sniffs once, toughening up before responding, "I'm good." I nod, then look at the endless landscape to my right. "Whatever you did must've really been something, Mr. Howlett's rarely that peeved."

"You're telling me," he huffs sarcastically, sounding pained. Shifting, I sit beside him, maintaining some space. "If you don't mind me asking, what was that about?" Mikey pauses, thinking hard.

"No clue," he mumbles pitifully. I gawk at him, brows creasing. He peers at me and copies my appearance. "I'm not lying," he exclaims defensively. "There's no way," I retort, scoffing.

"If you don't fucking believe me, why ask," Mikey spits, mumbling "bitch" as he shoots to stomp off.

Suspiring, my crown gingerly falls onto the tree's trunk. Finding comfort in its rugged bark, I calmly savour the crisp air.

I close my eyes, for what feels like a few minutes until a fierce call of my name grips my consciousness. Eyelids cracking open, my vision focuses on Mr. Howlett himself, standing in all his glory, glaring down at me with a brooding look.

"If it isn't the man of the hour," I giggle humourlessly, straightening my spine, but choosing not to stand and seem intimidated, like he evidently wishes me to be.

"You have a nice chat?" Logan questions with an irked tone, obviously remarking on my 'chat' with Mikey. 'Was he watching us?'

I tilt my head defiantly. "I'm not picking sides," I raise both hands in surrender, smiling from ear to ear. His eye faintly twitches, and I nearly gulp. He grumbles incomprehensible nonsense, then chooses to stay relatively quiet, which is unlike him.

"Do you have something to say? Or are you just gonna stand there?" I inquire venomously.

Clearly dispising my attitude, he concentrates on my face, scowling. His features have rage written all over them, but I refuse to bow out of this impending feud.

He grumbles under his breath again, and I break.

"Speak up!" I shout, swiftly bringing my gaze to our surroundings, making sure we're alone -which is something Logan clearly isn't worried about.

"What the fuck do you two have to talk about?" He just about growls and I tense, stunned. My face contorts with perplexity. "Me and Mikey?" I question, and his eyebrows nearly conjoin in response. "Not much, just discussing you're outburst," heaving, I continue, "though he didn't have much to say on the topic," sighing, "you?"

His nostrils flare slightly, and I do my best to appear composed. "What else have you talked about?" He grunts, and I roll my eyes, rising to my feet, bored with our conversation. "What's it to you?" I ask rhetorically, internally referring to the distance he'd been building between us.

Moving elsewhere, I roughly brush past his shoulder. He doesn't immediately reply, but trails after me as I march further into the courtyard.

"The fuck you on about?" Logan vulgarly rumbles, and I forget to speak.

My pace then staggers when he delicately wraps his digits over my forearm, tugging me, almost cautiously, backward.

Square to him, I discern his thumb tracing my skin lightly, before finally looking at him. He examines his finger as it sweeps across my flesh. "Logan?" I carefully utter, and his eyes stay glued to where our bodies meet.

"Why do you talk to him," he pauses, snarling with emphasis on 'talk,' yet again. Then he murmurs, "-When you have me?" He’s so quiet, that the words are barely audible. My features instantly soften. “Are you,” I hesitate, “Jealous?”

When he doesn’t answer, I gasp so loud, that my palm slaps over my mouth. He looks around, avoiding eye contact as I grasp the situation. “Did you threaten Mikey 'cause he yaps to me in class?”

Logan scorned the very idea of jealousy, cruising his head in a circle, to showcase his exasperation. I smirk uncontrollably and he snits. "Don't flatter yourself Princess," he remarks blatantly. My smirk only expands. "I can't believe you," I laugh hysterically and he motions like he's going to walk away, but he stays put, and I know I've won.

"Don't pull that face," he complains, gesturing to my proud look.

"What face?" I ask, playing naive, faintly swinging my body side to side. "Just stop talking to him, he's a bad influence," he grunts, peering off to the horizon. I giggle, "Or what? Do you intend to beat every boy who speaks to me?" I counter, and he struggles to fight a smile.

"What if I do," Logan more or less declares.

Shaking my head, "You've got some nerve," I huff, "seeing as you've been avoiding me lately."

"I haven't been avoiding you-"

I interrupt, "Oh yes, you have," playfully punching his gut with a grin, which drops the second my knuckles practically grow a heartbeat. "Ow," I breathe and at last, he laughs.

When Logan's laugh dims, he looks almost sullen. "Didn't think you'd notice," he mumbles and I quirk my chin in confusion. "You seem preoccupied." Gapping at him once more, he rolls his eyes, showing his teeth. "Don't gimme that damn look girl," he heaves, "you're young and, and-"

"And what?"

"Attractive," he sighs heavily, "you don't need an old man weighing you down."

I still, catching his genuine displeasure and defeat. It's like he's disappointed I may seek romance from someone else, but accepts it regardless, for my sake, my happiness.

My heart thumps irregularly and I feel like jumping his bones. I release a lengthy sigh, with a smile twinkling. His brow rises questioningly, seeming anxious about a reaction to his masked insecurity.

"What?" He bites.

"I'm relieved," his confusion visibly progresses. "I thought you were tired of me." As his mouth opens, to probably insult my intelligence, I cut in. "I wanna go steady with you, if that wasn't obvious already." My smile grows sheepish, then taunting, "I like you Lo, and clearly you must love me."

Like he's been holding his breath, a loud puff of air escapes his chapped lips, and I shamelessly watch as he wets them.

"You've gotta be the strangest girl I've ever met," he utters with a smirk forming, and I return one, interpreting his words as a declaration of love.

"Woman," I correct, then babble jokingly, "refined Lady." He confidently strides closer. "Mistress-"

The air leaves my lungs as his solid arms devour me, squeezing tightly.

"You best realize what you're committing to," Logan comments, lightly lifting strands of my hair with his fingertips, to kiss my neck. "That means, no more talking to boys," he grunts, humour coaxing his tone. "Especially ones so far out of your league," he pulls his head back, to peer at my expectant face, "It's not even funny," he finishes with a grin.

I laugh, unable to contain my joy, quickly hiding my wild smile in his chest. A pleased hum rumbles in tune with his heavy breathing, and I listen to his heartbeat's fairly, rapid pace.

For a while, we stay present in each other's arms, with fulfillment and ease consuming our beings, synchronously. Logan's fingers drift across my lower back, leisurely tracing my curves.

"I like you, so much," I whisper airly because the words couldn't be repressed, and had escaped. His hands gradually slow to a halt, till he abruptly draws back. He looks at me, with such intense seriousness, that I shudder.

Then, he pulls away entirely, taking my hand in his larger one, to drag me deeper into the field -into the overgrown areas, looted with massive trees and bushes.

"Logan?" My whisper transforms into a squeak when I'm hauled behind various, untrimmed hedges. His palms grope my hips, stilling me before he drops to his knees. I ogle his smug face as it bores into me, before he wrestles with my pink, low-waisted, jean shorts, impatiently dragging them down my plump thighs. He mumbles, "Ridiculous" when his eyeline levels with my purple, close-to-sheer underwear.

Like my shorts, he yanks them down to my ankles, then swiftly encloses his mouth over my cunt, swiping the folds with his tongue. I throw the back of my hand over my incoming yelp, biting down to muffle it.

"Is this you tryna to deflect admitting you really like me?" I joke meekly as my mouth parts from my hand, but I quickly chomp down again, when he licks me, with a long flick of his tongue. I gasp and whimper, using my spare hand to claw at his scalp for leverage, as he hungrily laps my pussy, sucking on its nub.

A tremor racks my insides, eliciting spasms while he builds up a powerful, but excruciatingly relaxed pace. His bulky digits move to relentlessly rub my clit, applying a rhythmic pressure that makes me sob.

Logan shushes me, mouth still buried in my folds. The buzz of his voice sends shivers through my core, and the strength of his action grows, acknowledging my imminent finish.

“Eyes on me,” Logan basically growls, before diving back into my cunt.

I muffle a cry of his name with a fist now, biting my knuckles. Then, I look from the heavens, back down to the one hand I still have, clenching his silky locks.

My knees begin to buckle and his sizeable palms relocate to support my hips, with his fingertips bordering my ass, kneading it. "I'm close," I gasp, barely audible through my hand. He hums again, and when it elicits another shiver, and shake of my frame, I tumble over his back, wrecked by my climax.

Now hunched over him, with my hands splayed down his torso, I tremble furiously, coming down from my high. I can't help but whine when Logan continuously licks me. He tastes every inch of me like I'm the meal of a lifetime, like I'm oxygen itself.

"Enough," I choke, as my arousal becomes too much. His response is simply plunging further into me, to lick all the way from my ass, to clit.

Steam floods my stomach, lighting me on fire. A raging flame consumes my very being, and I relish in how dirty and dangerous this encounter is -in public on his knees for me, Logan made it known that I'm his, and he let me know, that he couldn't care less who heard us, because I was his.

"You're disturbed," I breathe, and his chuckle resonates louder when he separates from my damp skin. "You love it," he states with a smirk and an arch of his brow. He then runs his tongue over his soaked lips, and I bite back a groan, sighing, "I do."

Lifting, moving my palms to his shoulders, I capture his top lip, sucking on it as a thank you. I grin, and as if he can hear my jest coming from a mile away, he scoffs and turns to hide his smirk.

"And you must lovveee me," I repeat my earlier comment with even more enthusiasm, and he shakes his head.

He rises and I do the same. Logan then goes in for a kiss to shut me up, but just as he does, I catch his mumble of "I do."

I gasp into his mouth, eyelids stretching.

My lids briskly flutter shut when he deepens the kiss, dipping my figure, rather romantically, and we both smile.

p links with logan howlett part 3

as always: nsfw, mdni! 18+ only! (part 1) (part 2)

content/warnings: somnophilia, breath play, impact play, p-in-v sex, anal, bdsm themes, spit play, gagging, oral sex, manhandling, public sex

i found an account that posts clips from pascal’s ss so expect me to go a bit feral this week…! :3 anyways, all links are on twt, so in order to open them make sure you’re logged in!

you decide to take a shower after going at it for hours, but logan decides to hop in for round two

logan lets you tag along while he’s chauffeuring around the city, and during his downtime, you ride him and give him some sloppy head

trying out breath play with logan for the first time. also some pussy slapping at the end :3

logan training your cunt with his fingers to prepare you for his dick

you get bratty with logan, and he has no other choice but to put his girl in her place

logan is set to leave for a long mission and will be gone for a week. the night before he leaves, you decide you want to film something to keep you company for when he’s gone

logan can’t help but stare at your ass while you’re prepping dinner in the kitchen. he can’t ignore you, so he decides to bend you over the counter

size kink with logan as he practically uses and handles you like a fucktoy, sliding you up and down his cock with ease.

logan pinning you down with his body as he fingers you (and you thank him for the treat by giving him head!)

anal with logan, then later overstimulates you while fingering you (also some spit play)

consensual somnophilia with logan—he wakes up with morning wood and doesn’t wanna bother you so early in the morning!

you and logan are sent out on a mission, but logan gets exposed to sex pollen. being the kind girl you are, you decide to help him out

logan talking you through it as you ride him

rough sex with logan and deepthroating and gagging around his cock

logan pushing your head down into the mattress while he fucks you from behind

you’re a whining mess as logan splits your cunt in half with his cock

wearing logan’s white button-up while he fucks you senseless

lazy morning sex with logan

hope yall enjoyed <3

Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.7k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

I’m a mutant…

That’s what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know jack-shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention?” Logan questions, his tone surprisingly soft. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again.

“I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that ain’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is further strained when his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin, from that sentence alone.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coaxing his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I giggle, "You have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're just begging for it princess."

Part two