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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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11. Centaur Indruck (maybe specifically Duck) rating up to you

Here you go! I went with SFW, and a western theme just for fun.

It’s only May, but the desert air is hot and dry, will only get more so as the summer spreads across the mountains. The sun drives Duck to the stream running down the hill, it’s banks shaded by cottonwoods. Pa Newton sent him in search of flowers for the table; it’s Ma Newton’s birthday, and her husband is determined to make it perfect.

“I only get so much time away from the mines, best make the most of it.”

Duck knows just what to pick. Lupines and Daisies will make the perfect bouquet. He spies a clump of daisies, lowers himself to the ground, taking care not to crush too many as he sits. There’s a scuff of rock as grey-brown dust lands on his shoulder. He looks up, expecting a jackrabbit or maybe even a deer, and finds a human staring down at him.

The boy must be about his age, his pale hair falling about a face that’s as skinny as the rest of him. His clothes look fancy, which is at odds with the tear in the knee and smudges on his cheeks. Brown eyes are watery as they stare back at Duck, and he suspects his hands are over his mouth because he was crying and didn’t want Duck to hear him.

“Uh, howdy.” He waves. Instead of waving back, the boy seems more alarmed.

Maybe he’s never seen a centaur before?

Duck tries again, “You lost? I’m goin back up to town real soon, and if I can’t help you, my folks can.”

The boy sniffs, “I’m not lost. I’m hiding.”

“From what?” Duck gathers up his daisies, spots lupine near the rock where the boy is perching.

“Other boys in town. I hate it here, hate how hard it is to breathe, hate the dust, hate how there’s odd things like centaurs and cactus cats out here-”

“Hey!”

The boy winces so intensely Duck regrets yelling, “Apologies. I just, I wish we’d never left the city.”

That explains the clothes. Duck, at eleven years old, knows very little about the town economy. But he knows that while the silver is found in the mines around his home, the money runs down hill to Carson City.

“How come you did?”

“Father got a new job at the bank. Why are you here?” He cocks his head.

“‘Cause my family’s lived in these parts for six generations.”

“No, I meant by the water.”

“Oh. Uh, pickin flowers for my mama.”

“Don’t let the other boys see you. If they broke my glasses for drawing flowers, I don’t think they’ll be too kind to you.”

Duck shrugs, “I ain’t scared of them. And there ain’t nothin wrong with drawin flowers.” Bouquet finished, he stands, the boy’s eyes widening as he registers the differences in their shapes.

“You wanna walk up the hill with me?”

“Yes, please.”

As the trek back to the dusty streets of Virginia City, he learns the human is called Indrid, and that he’s much more talkative than his initial reticence implied. They’re mid discussion of the caterpillars Indrid is raising when they reach a fine, three story house. Indrid bids Duck good afternoon. Duck asks him to wait, takes a lupine from the bouquet, and tucks it safely into the buttonhole on his jacket.

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

“Want some?” Duck holds out a biscuit from his lunch pail. Indrid takes it, scarfing it down in one go.

“Hungry?” Duck teases, sipping from his canteen.

“Enough to eat a horse.” Indrid grins as his friend clutches his sides, laughing. He’d used the turn of phrase accidentally two weeks ago, then tried to cover it with a joke about only if the horse was willing, which only made his friend guffaw and wheeze harder. Now, whenever one of them needs to crack the other up, they mention eating horses.

They’re fourteen, and have spent the better part of the summer working on the Newton Ranch. Duck’s father, after a very close call in the silver mines, decided to extend his time above ground by running an egg and dairy supply for the town. Indrid convinced his father that it was good for a young man to earn a living with his hands during his youth, as it would make him strong and healthy. Mr. Cold, with a little assurance from Mrs. Newton that she would make sure the boys didn’t loaf about, agreed.Mrs. Newton is a woman of her word. Here he is wind-burnt and tan, sweat running down his back and callouses forming on his hands.

He’d do double the work if it meant staying near Duck. Duck’s parents seem to suspect this, and some combination of them wanting their son to be happy and wanting to earn the good graces of a wealthy family leads them to give the boys time to rest or wander about the farm after dinner before sending Indrid on his way.

It’s during one such evening circuit, on the far edge of the property, that Indrid finds a chipmunk burrow with his foot. The pain in his ankle sends him to the ground.

“Ow.”

“Shit. Can you stand at all?”

Indrid tries it and sits right back down, “No. I guess we’ll have to go very, very slow on the way back so I can hobble, and pray another hole doesn’t take out my left foot as well.”

Duck flicks his tail, “I mean, if you wanna take all night, sure. But, uh, what if I give you a ride?”

Indrid blinks at him in the twilight. Riding a centaur is Not Done; the centaurs find it insulting, and humans view it as scandalous.

“You won’t get in trouble, I promise, and I’ll go slow.”

He nods and the centaur kneels, the human clambering awkwardly onto his back.

“Duck? Where do I put my hands?”

“Huh. Around my shoulders, maybe? Yeah, that don’t mess up my balance none.”

Indrid presses himself to Duck’s back, marveling at the strength in the muscles moving beneath him.

“You know” he murmurs into Duck’s hair, “I’m awfully tempted to say giddyup or some such nonsense.”

“You do and I’ll buck you off and leave you for the coyotes.”

“You can buck me anytime.”

Duck calls his bluff by giving the world’s smallest buck. Indrid yelps, then cackles into his shoulders as Duck trots forward, the two of them laughing into the desert night.

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

“Blasted mosquitos” Indrid waves his sketchbook in the summer air. At sixteen, he’s taken to wearing red spectacles and black clothing. This style, combined with the sharp angles of his face, leads more than a few people in town to say he looks sinister.

Duck thinks he’s dashing. Not that he spends much time looking, not at all. Indrid is such a constant in his life that he hardly notices the changes as they age. Except when Indrid smiles at him in a secretive way or when, as he did yesterday, he strips down to nothing for a swim in the river.

“Maybe they’re mad you ain’t drawin them.” Duck reaches into the cool water, picking up several stones just right for skipping.

“But I have. I used my magnifying glass to make a detailed sketch of one last week.”

“Jesus, ‘Drid, is there anythin you ain’t drawn at this point?” The stone skips five times

“Well….I haven’t drawn you.”

“You’ve drawn me plenty.” Six skips this time, not bad.

“I mean in the, ah, traditional sense.”

Ker-plunk

The stone sinks in one as Duck looks over at his friend.

“You already have your shirt off. Even with the wrap gone, I, ah, I couldn’t see, that is, only if you want to.” He sighs, “I’m not expressing this well. What I mean is that you have the finest form of any human or centaur I know. I would like to capture it, try to do it justice. If, if you’ll let me?”

Duck stands, grabs the strap of the wrap covering his lower, “You’re hard to say no to, ‘Drid.”

“You can if you...need...to.” Indrid follows the fabrics path to the ground, then fixes his eyes on Duck as he lowers himself into a comfortable position.

“This good?”

“Extremely.” The human’s gaze fights to stay clinical as it scans him, rough outlines of his body forming on the paper. Soon, Indrid is engrossed in the illustration, though whenever they lock eyes or he glances at Duck’s chest or hindquarters, he goes pink.

Duck whistles, tracks the songbirds hopping from tree to tree. His friend doffs his jacket, rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up as sunbeams scatter through the trees.

“You really are handsome.” Indrid murmurs, “you know that, right?”

“Heard as much from folks now and then. But you sayin’ it is a, uh, interestin development. Almost like you’re tryin to tell me somethin.” His voice catches between teasing and earnest, afraid moving too far one way or the other will scare his friend away.

“I...I need to get closer, to capture some details.” He slides off the rock to sit on his knees near Duck’s chest. The half-finished drawing peeks out from the paper, it’s perspective too far away for Indrid’s current examination to be of any use to it.

“What details are you hopin’ to capture?” Duck pushes pale hair out of Indrid’s eyes.

“I, ah, the dapples just here, and this line, oh to hell with it.” He lunges into a kiss, so eager he nearly knocks Duck sideways. The centaur snickers, cups his face as ink-stained fingers thread into his hair. Indrid licks into his mouth, messy and unpracticed. Duck holds him there tames the frantic exploration down to something more refined but no less hungry. By the time they separate, Indrid’s face is bright red and Duck’s lips are sore.

“‘Drid?” He brushes their noses together, runs his palms soothingly up and down a rumpled white shirt.

“I’ve wanted that for so long.” Indrid sighs, curling closer in spite of the heat. Holding him like this, able to inhale his sweat and aftershave and feel his heartbeat, Duck understands there’s no going back. There is no pretending not to know, not to see the way Indrid looks at him. Which is fine by Duck; he loves Indrid Cold, and he doesn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

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

Duck is twenty years old when he learns that joy and heartbreak can exist in one body without ripping it apart. This is a pity, since he’d prefer bifurcation to the sorrow on Indrid’s face.

“I’m sorry, Duck. I have to stay here and take over the bank, even though following you west is all I want to do.”

Two months ago, a friendly man stopped while Duck was tending the garden outside city hall and chatted with him for the better part of an hour as the centaur worked. The man turned out to be a millionaire with a massive estate mid-way up the California coast, including parts of a forest he wished to maintain but keep wild. He offered Duck the role of head gardener and arborist, and the contract was signed a week ago. The centaur assumed, from his active encouragement and celebration, that Indrid was coming with him on this once-in-a-lifetime chance.

“I’ll send a wire, tell ‘em I gotta back out.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“Seems to me you don’t get a say in that.”

“Duck, please” Indrid sets his left hand on his shoulder, right clenched at his side, “please do not cast your future aside on my account. Just because I have to stay here doesn’t mean you do.”

“Why do you have to stay at all?”

“I’ve been groomed to take my fathers’ place for years. I’m not sure there’s a way out of that, not one that I can see. Sometimes, fate is not in our favor.”

“Fuck fate.” He stops his front hoof.

“Here, you might need this out in California” Indrid lifts his fist, intending to give what it contains back to Duck, as the centaur placed the item there not even five minutes ago.

Duck stops his hand, wraps his own around it, “No. I know the man for me is right here.”

“As do I” Indrids voice is tight. When his face drops against Duck’s chest, it’s damp with tears.

“Then he better write to me to let me know how he’s gettin on. And if he” Duck swallows around the painful possibility in his throat, “if he ever changes his mind, all he’s gotta do is send it back to me in a letter.”

Indrid slips his hand into his pants pocket, “Understood.”

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

“Duck!” Leo, one of Mr. Greenbanks two bodyguards, hails Duck from the mansions’ patio, “come on in a second, someone Mr. G wants you to meet.”

The centaur wipes his hands and trots briskly up the path to the house, droplets of fog strung through his hair. Most days he likes the peace and quiet of his work, but today he’s not in a contemplative mood; Indrid’s last letter was two weeks ago, when they usually come once a week if not more. Illness doesn’t stop him, he simply asks a friend in town to take down and post the letters.

Once he’s certain he won’t track mud into the house, Duck makes his way towards the voices in the parlor. He must be more heartsick than usual today, because that voice sounds like-

“Ah, Duck, here you are. This is Mr. Indrid Cold, a talented young artist who will be illustrating my various scientific writings. And,” Mr. Greenbank winks, “will have the honor of being in charge of any artistic endeavors at the Academy of Sciences.”

Indrid extends his hand. Duck kisses it out of habit, notes his employers' perplexed expression an instant too late.

“It’s a, uh, an old, uh, centaur custom--no, fuck, it’s-”

“We are well known to each other.” Indrid smiles his most genteel smile.

“Splendid! I’m hoping to draw up extensive records of my arboretum, so it’s good you two get along.”

“Indeed.” Indrid tips his head, then turns his attention away from Duck, “where would you like me to unpack my things?”

Duck leaves them to their logistics, stunned. Indrid not only being here, but acting distant after six months apart raises so many questions that he wants to lay down in the flowerbeds and holler until someone answers them.

He busies himself among forest wildflowers instead, wondering why Indrid never mentioned he was applying for that position.

“I hope this explains the gap in my communication.” Indrid, shivering near a tree-trunk, pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his glasses, “I didn’t want to tell you my plans for fear they’d fall through and make you all the more disappointed. Also, the journey here was rather chaotic due to an attempted train robbery. All that is to say I’m sorry if I caused you any distress.”

“Yeah, you did” Duck sets down his tools, “but it was so fuckin worth it.” He yanks the human into an embrace, kisses him until his glasses are all askew. Indrid moans, slipping his fingers under the hem of his work shirt to stroke the band where skin meets fur.

“What happened to fate?” Duck nips his jaw.

“As someone I know so eloquently put it: fuck fate.”

“Smart fella.”

“He is.” Indrid pulls back, mapping Ducks’ body with his hands, “And I also have something for him.” The human tucks a sprig of Lupines-- weighed down with a silver engagement ring--into Duck’s shirt pocket.

“You said sending it with a letter meant the end of things. By that same token, delivering it in person signals their beginning, yes?”

“Yeah.” Duck kisses him, soft as the lifting fog, “guess we better tell Mr. Greenbank he can just let you stay in my cottage.”

“Indeed. May I, ah, see this lovely abode?”

“Right this way. You want me to give you a ride.”

Indrid shakes his head, simply takes Duck’s hand and falls into step beside him, “No. I suspect there will be plenty of opportunities for, ah, riding later. After all, I’m here to stay.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #monster march #centaur boyfriend #reader request

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 5 years

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could we get 11 from the desperate/needy prompts for xander?? I love how you write him so much nfkdkdkdkjd

Pairing: Xander x reader

Prompt: “I want to touch you so much, I can hardly hold myself back”.

Description: You were surprised to find Xander in your favorite study nook, but had no opposition to sharing the space with him.

Rating: sfw

Word Count: 717

Notes: Hmm I feel like before I fell asleep, I had better plans for this piece, but oh well!

Etiquette was of the utmost importance; Xander had to act the way that was expected for someone of his stature, especially around all the other royals and Heroes of this world. And usually, that wasn’t a problem. He had been trained from a young age how to act like the Prince he was, and by now, it was just who he was; formal, respectful, charming, and kind. Of course, we can’t always be our best, everyone has their bad days, Xander included.

It wasn’t your fault, but when you were around, Xander became a mess. More awkward, fumbling over his words and losing some of that charm he was known so well for. Even worse perhaps was the ever-present desire to do quite deprived acts with you. Simply put, Xander was in love with you, and far too much for his own good; you clouded most of his waking thoughts and all of his dreaming ones. Something had to be done least he prove to the people around him how scandalous he really felt.

That’s how the two of you got into this situation; Xander didn’t mean to escalate it like this, but how could he ignore his feelings when you were so close. Too close, in fact; how did it happen that the two of you ended up in this room? Well, he knew the answer to that as well-- it was your favorite study chamber, and you were a creature of habit. Xander showed up before you did, made himself busy, and pretended to act surprised when you showed up here as well. Of course, ever the gentleman, Xander was happy to share the small, quiet space with you.

“Could I get your opinion on this?” You had asked, ushering him over to where you stood, looking over a map. He stood beside your stooped form, looking over the map. “It’s just for practice, but what do you think would be better? The enemy is positioned here...” Xander heard your words but didn’t really process what you were saying, too caught up in the sight of you bent over like that.

“_____...” Xander said your name, low and breathy for some reason. You glanced over your shoulder to look at him, wanting to make sure he was okay, but also still very much invested in your tactics. He was looking at you with half-lidded eyes and you were starting to worry he was sick.

“Xander are you alright--” You went to turn around fully, but before you could stand to your full height, you were pressed back onto the table as Xander stood before you, hands snug on your hips.

“Do you understand what you do to me?” His voice was low, his tone enough to send shivers down your spine. “I hardly understand it myself, little Summoner. I want to touch you so much, I can hardly hold myself back.” Xander pulled back enough just to stare into your eyes; his own held such longing, a passion in them you never expected to see bared before you.

“T-this is all very sudden...” You couldn’t help but stutter, the fluster in you felt obvious in your voice and on your face. It was hard to meet his intense gaze, but Xander didn’t stop there.

“Please,” His voice was soft, drawing your gaze in again. His look was nearly haunting, his desperation obvious. “Let me please you...” You were left no room to refuse as his lips met yours in a deep kiss; what was once sweet and meant to be savored quickly grew more heated, until the two of you were nearly animals, needy for the others touch and willing to do anything to get it. By now, you had wrapped your arms around his neck and dared to pull him closer by wrapping your legs around his waist. The two of you parted, breathing heavy and staring at one another a moment.

“I wanna make you feel good too,” You were painfully aware of the growing heat festering between the two of you, and Xander was as well. It didn’t take a genius to know where this was going, and the prospect excited you. This new side of him was one you never expected but nonetheless were happy to indulge.

#xander x reader #feh #fe hereoes #fe fates #fe conquest #fe xander #xander

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ellana-ravenwood · 7 years

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Stress Relief part 2 - Wolverine x Reader (Erotica)

So many people asked for more Wolverine smut...So, here we go. Really. Shameless smut. Because self-control is for weak people...wait...hum...Whatever.

Summary : Last time, you helped your Wolverine relax...this time, he helps YOU. And you couldn’t be happier.

PART 1

IMPORTANT WARNING : THIS IS EROTICA ! THIS IS NOT FOR YOU IF YOU ARE UNDERAGED, I GODDAMN MEAN IT. Like there’s cute and sweet feelings in the mix, but also...smut, so if you’re not 18 or more, or if you’re not comfortable with that sort of things etc etc, this story ain’t for you. I have tons of other very SFW story, for averyone to read, and if you wanna check those out instead, it’s right here, on My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives.

_______________________________________________________________________

It had been a while since you had a week as bad as the one you just had.

Your students, maybe because they felt like the summer vacations were very close, were just being so difficult, so much that at each end of the class you were just exhausted both mentally and physically.

If that wasn’t enough, you had tons of paperworks to take care of because you promised Storm you’d help her with it. You probably made at least 100 new student files, as the school really started to grow and more kids came in every day. You fucking hated paperworks...You cursed yourself for even asking Ororo if she needed help. She was your best friend, and was co-headmaster with Logan...You saw what being headmaster did to Logan, how it took a toll on his mind, mood etc etc, and just had to try to help them. Still. Fuck paperworks.

You also were in charge of recruiting new teachers, and that was another pain in the ass, because damn some of them were perfect idiots. You had to throw some out of the school once you realized they were just journalists, looking for a new scandal article to make about a “school full of dangerous mutants”. Assholes.

Oh, and of course, you also asked Kurt and Hank if they needed help, and of course...They did.

You were starting to slowly realize that maybe, by wanting to help your friends so much, wanting to make things easier for them, you made your already busy life an impossible schedule to manage. Needless to say, you were overdosing on work, and you felt like you were very close from having a burn out.

Making everything worst, Logan had been gone all week, having important things to do in Japan. He wanted you to come, but you stupidly refused, because you didn’t want to leave your students alone, as they often came to you to talk and such...and how did the brats repaid you ? By being impossible. Erf.

So here you were, a bit depressed, stressed, and exhausted, laying in your bed, wishing your boyfriend would be with you. You guys weren’t really clingy, but sometimes, you just needed each other. Like now, in your case. Your only confort was his smell lingering in your shared bedroom.

Wearing only one of his flannel shirt, you started to feel your thoughts drifting away as you slowly fell in a well deserved slumber. You just wanted Logan to come home, but he wouldn’t until another week...

*************

Surprise, Logan came home early. His business took less time than anticipated. You didn’t notice at all though...When he entered your shared bedroom, he found you lying across the bed, clinging to his pillow, your face buried in it. You didn’t react at all at his entrance or when he threw his heavy travelling bag on the floor. And when he softly caressed your cheek, you didn’t move, a sure sign you were very tired. Usually, the slightest shift in the bed, the smallest touch or noise, would wake you up in an instant. You were a light sleeper...

You always moved a lot in your sleep (you kicked him more than he could count), and the blanket you were initially under was now pooling at your feet. The flannel shirt you stole from Logan was up to your waist, and he couldn’t help but give an appreciative look to your bare ass. He ran a calloused hand from your neck to your lower back, gently...You didn’t stir at all and he decided not to wake you up. Planting a loving kiss on your forehead, he went to the bathroom to take a shower.

After a few minutes the sound of the water finally woke you up. You sat up immediately, who was taking a shower in your bathroom ?! And then you saw Logan’s bag. He was home. He. Was. Home !

You stood up so fast that you felt a bit dizzy, and were running to the bathroom door when he opened it and you slammed into him violently. His indestructible adamantium laced bones almost knocked you out. Running into the Wolverine was like running into a concrete wall. He caught you before you fell on the floor, and the towel he had around his waist fell off.

-Wow (Y/N), careful sweetheart.

Your mind was a bit hazed and you almost didn’t feel him lift you up to carry you to the bed. It took you a few minutes to regain your senses. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and rested your head on his strong pecs. He tangled a hand in your hair, caressing them tenderly, the other hand going to the small of your back.

-Are you ok ? I’m sorry babe I didn’t...

He froze. You were crying. Did he hurt you that much ? He saw you cry only once or twice before, and you didn’t really had the easiest life ever...You pulled him closer to you, nuzzling his chest, and he realized that you weren’t crying because you bumped into him...

-What is it love ?

It took you another few minutes to hold your tears and answer.

-I’m just so done with this week...

-What happened ? Who’s ass do I have to kick ?

He felt you smile on his naked chest, and his arms tightened a bit more around you.

-So many people Logan, so many people. It has just been kind of a shitty week...I should have gone with you to Japan. Everyone was so annoying and...

His hand were running up and down your back in soothing gestures. He let you rant for almost an hour, and you realized it was exactly what you needed, just complaining. You rarely did. And you really, REALLY needed it...So much that, even after a week apart, you didn’t take notice that Logan was completely naked in front of you. Usually, you’d have jump on each other instantly...That and the fact that you were sleeping like a log made him understand that you really weren’t alright.

So he let you talk, and listened, because he knew how important mental health was, how sometimes you could go crazy if you didn’t let your emotions out...when you finished ranting, you pulled away from him.

You realized you might have bored him with your petty problems, but when you looked up at him, all you saw in his eyes was love and empathy. It made your heart beat faster. Thanks to his enhanced senses, he could hear your heart running wild, and he smiled to you. Of that smile that made you wanna melt in his arms.

-You know what’s the problem (Y/N) ?

-No, but something’s telling me you’re gonna tell me ?

-You help others too much. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great, you’re great. That’s why we all ask for your help, we know you get our backs...but the thing is, we don’t have yours that much. We always assume your fine because you’re just...You. Bubbly, smiley, nice. Hiding yourself behind witty and sarcastic comments when you’re not alright, so we’re distracted by that and don’t press on asking how you are...

Damn that man. He knew you too well. You smiled weakly at him, and he bent down. At first you thought he was going to kiss you, and you closed your eyes, but he went to your ear and sensually whispered :

-Let me make it up to you sweetheart. Show you how much I appreciate what you do for all of us, show you how much I fucking love you.

As he said that, one of his hand sneakily crept under the shirt you were wearing...

He ran his fingers on your thigh, and you felt a wave of fire swarming your sex.

-Logan...

-I’m here. For you. Always.

You pulled him down for the most erotic and heated make-out session you two ever had. And you were usually already pretty good on the “erotic and heated make-out session”’s scale...

With his free hand, Logan took your shirt off, and started to plant kisses, to bite, lick and suck on every single inch of your skin, making sure to leave marks for his personal enjoyment later. He loved looking at his handy work...His other hand was running up and down your slit, rubbing your sex gently.

One of your hand tangled in his hair while the other one bring his face back to you, and kissed him some more. You licked his bottom lips and he understood, letting his tongue invade your mouth. He was massaging your tongue with his, and you swallowed each other’s moans. He bit a bit harshly on your lower lip, and you answered by pulling his hair.

Logan’s motto was “a little foreplay goes a long way”, and no matter how much he wanted to be inside you, he always took his time. Like right now, if it was only up to him, after a week of only touching himself thinking of you, he’d just take you right away, without thinking much about it...but tonight was about you.

And so he left your mouth, and you groaned in disapproval. How dare he go away...you quickly changed your mind though, as he left a hot and wet trail with his mouth from your jaw, stopping at your breast because he just fucking loved to play with them (you loved it even more), and slowly but surely, getting down to where you wanted him to be.

After a few kisses to your inner thighs, and without any other preamble, he nuzzled your now very wet cunt. He hungrily lapped at hit, and didn’t waste a second before delving his tongue in it, playing with your inner thing. The damn man knew you too well. Knew every little details of what you liked, how and where you liked it...and he found your G-Spot rapidly as he slipped a hand under one of your thigh to raise it on his shoulder, the other hand drawing soft circle around your clit. He flicked his tongue expertly, and you bucked into his face. You wanted to apologize, but he made you cry out by burying his face even deeper in your sex. You felt his nose rub against your clit, as his fingers still teased it.

It didn’t take long for you to come, hard. Into his mouth. A shattering orgasm shaking your entire body. He didn’t stop licking and sucking on you until you were almost still again, and he crept back up, towering over you, his elbows on each side of your face.

You could feel his hard cock on your thigh, and you made a move to grab it, to turn Logan around and give back to him...But he stopped you.

-No, it’s all about you tonight.

-But...

-No. Only you baby girl, I have to insist.

And on that note, he went down to kiss you some more. You felt his body being softer than usual...Usually, he’d be all strong muscles and controlling, but tonight...You decided to test your hypothesis. You were right. You pushed him off of you, and, without resisting one bit, he let you climb on him.

-Oh, so I can do whatever I want eh ?

-I told you (Y/N), it’s all for you. You decide.

With a wicked smile that made him harder than ever, you made him sit with his back against the headboard, and climb sexily on him.

-And what if pleasuring you is something I want ?

He sighed. You were such a stubborn woman. But before he could say anything, you kept going...

-Listen, it’s also about me if I give you a blowjob you know.

You could feel his cock twitch on your inner thigh.

-Giving me pleasure gives you pleasure too right ?

-Right..

-Well then...

And just like he did, you slowly went down his body. Logan gripped the headboard with force, he decided he wasn’t going to put a hand in your hair, as he was afraid to be tempted to guide you. He was adamant on letting you take the lead tonight...

And the lead you took. You grabbed his shaft with deft fingers, and slightly brushed your thumb on the head, spreading the small beads of pre-cum that were on it.

Making eye contact, which you knew he loved, you licked tentatively on his tip, and went all the way to his balls. He was holding his breath, swallowing down a particularly loud groan. Pulling his foreskin, you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock and sucked hardly.

Hollowing your cheek, you took him in as far as you could, and swirled your tongue around his cock. What you couldn’t fit in, you stroked, putting the perfect pressure to make Logan squirmed under your touch. You thought the way he was trying not to buck into you, and to fuck your mouth mercilessly was...kinda cute. The man was trying with all his will, and it made you all warm and fuzzy. Your boyfriend wasn’t really a gentle man, but with you...with you it was just different. He showed a side he never showed to anyone before.

His head hit back the headboard with a loud thud as you started playing with his balls, engulfing him in the warm heat of your mouth.

He tried to pull you away as he felt he was going to cum, but you shoved his hands away, caressing his abs with love...and you swallowed everything, your plump and swollen red lips not letting a drop escape you. The sound he made while you wear sucking him definitely pleased you. Only you could make him whimper desperately like that, and only you could make him see stars and come that hard, a mix of curse words and your name on his lips.

His eyes were closed, and his head was still tilted back on the headboard, as he dragged you up his body again. He was breathing heavily, and you gave him time to come back from the shockwave of his orgasm. As he felt you kiss his neck however, he opened his eyes, and the sight of you, naked, straddling him, was enough to make him hard again.

You raised your hips, and he gave you a sloppy kiss as you simply sunk down onto him. The familiar sting of his cock stretching you made you wince a bit. He was biting your earlobe when you started to move, and he gasped loudly, putting instinctively his hands on your ass, caressing your back on the way.

He squeezed your butt cheek a bit harshly as you slammed down on him, and took a lazy slow pace, just appreciating his skin on yours. His hand went to your hips, helping you go up and down on him, and, imperceptibly, speeding the cadence a bit. You bit your lower lips as your tits bounce in front of his face, and gripped the headboard behind him. He grabbed a nipple in his mouth, and sucked on it as you were riding him, both of your thighs’ muscles working hard to pound in each others.

-Oh God, yes, so fucking good (Y/N), so..aaah...mmm...

He started to meet your hips and thrust into you with expert movement. Burying himself inside you more and more each time. His hand caressed your back with all the love he could, digging his fingers in your side, not enough to inflict too much pain, but enough to leave marks of his fingers on your skin.

-I want to feel your name burning in my skin for days.

Your words drove him wild, and he flipped you on your back, not loosing the connection, pounding relentlessly inside you. His pace slowed a little however, to take your face in. As your legs wrapped around his waste, your feet pushing on his ass so he could sink himself all the way to the hilt in you, he couldn’t help but smile stupidly. You smiled back at him, and the room filled up with your mutual moans and groans, and words of praise for one another.

He loved taking you like this, because he could just see your face expression. Your foreheads were touching tenderly, and you were swallowing each others’ breath in. He kissed you with love and awe, and you responded with an equal amount of worshipping.

You always loved those moments when he made love to you...It was often like this. First, amazing foreplay, then, grinding into each other, snapping hips on hips, taking each other hard. Then slow, tender moments before...

-Harder. Please.

And with one hard movement, he started to snap into you with passion.

And you became a hot mess. Your fingers dug in his shoulders, nails scraping his back, mouth biting his collar bones, as he was shoving himself in you with vigor. He got on his knees, took your legs and put it on his shoulder, his hands on your waist, as he started to slam so hard inside you that the sound of skin slapping skin was becoming absolutely obscene, and almost as loud as your moans, groans, and dirty talk. The room was filled with “Jesus, don’t stop”, “You feel so good, OH MY GOD YOU’RE SO DAMN GOOD”, and other loving “if you stop I’ll kill you”.

The Wolverine had the stamina of a horse, and always took you in as much position as he could. He flipped you around, and got you on your hands and knees, bending your head down into the mattress. He took a pillow to put under your belly so that you’d be steady, and again, pounded into you, this new angle hitting places he couldn’t reach before, and making you cry out even louder. Expertly, you rolled your hips back into his, and made him groan with force.

At some point, the pleasure was so intense, that it became too much and you almost couldn’t register anymore what was going on. You faintly remember him standing up and pinning you against a wall, proceeding then to fuck you, or rather, to make love to you, on every single piece of furniture in your room. Sometimes it was slow and loving, others it was rough...and still loving.

You reached a point where you couldn’t take it anymore, and he knew it. He took you back to your shared bed, and jackrabbited into you, making you scream his name at the top of your lungs. He wasn’t in a better position, he was very close too, and was starting to feel weak as he slid in and out of you repeatedly. One hand was in your hair, the other went down to your clit to rub it furiously. Your eyes rolled back in your skull, he was killing you. And soon enough...

Your orgasm racked threw you so violently that you dig your nails in his back so hard that you drew blood, his healing factor making everything disappear in an instant. Shame.

You screamed in pleasure, and you were pretty sure you heard someone say : “Hey, Logan’s back” from the corridor outside your room...

He thrust into you threw your orgasm, and the way your tight heat clenched around him, and his hot seed soon filled you. He fell back on you, not pulling out, letting his weight on your body, knowing you liked the feeling of him on your body. You were caressing soothingly his hair and back, planting kisses at the top of his head as his face was resting in the valley of your tits, kissing weakly the skin there.

You stayed like this for a long time, in a conformable silence, that he broke.

-So...?

-So what ?

You asked mischievously as he raised his head. He gave you his trademark “I’m not amused” look, and you smiled. You kinda loved his gruff and broody side, and to his annoyance, you thought it was very cute when he got a bit like that with you. It was an entire part of his personality, and you loved all of him.

-Did I...Help ?

You looked away, acting as if you were embarrassed, and you felt him stiffen...But only for a seconds as your laugh made your chest vibrate, and resonated threw him.

-Yes you idiot, you helped. Couldn’t you hear how much you helped ? I’m pretty sure I was...very loud.

He smiled and was about to pull out of you, knowing that if he didn’t, he was soon going to get hard again, but you stopped it.

-What ? Done helping already ?

He looked at you, stunned. He was so sure you were exhausted.

-Well, I mean...I thought you...

-Oh honey, I was just getting started.

And with the sexiest wink you could make, you squeezed the muscle of your cunt, and the feeling made him gasp in pleasure.

-Unless you can’t keep up...

He smiled slyly, oh he could keep up, he could keep aaaaaall night.

-Darlin’, if that’s a challenge, you’re in for a treat.

And indeed you were. That night, he definitely removed any remnant traces of stress from your being as he fucked you until the sun rose.

You slept threw the next day, and he helped you some more the next night. You were so glad it was the week-end and you could just take two days for yourself and your Wolverine...If anyone could see you two, his reputation would be ruined, as it was all cheesy love declaration and fluff...You loved it. Not always, because if he was telling you “I love you” all the time, then the words would lost all meaning. But right now, you needed it, so much. And he knew.

The damn man knew you too well...And it was great.

************

On Monday, you felt so much better. Your students were suddenly nice again (thanks to Logan’s intervention...but that, you’ll never know). There was no more paperworks, finally. And everything felt back into places again...Your boyfriend was definitely a good stress relief.

Fin, hope you liked it, sorry it was so long, I got carried away...

#Wolverine x reader #wolverine imagine #james howlett x reader #James Howlett imagine #logan imagine #Logan Howlett x reader #logan x reader #x-men imagine #X-men fanfiction #X-men x reader #reader insert wolverine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #I HAVE NO SHAME #Ahem...

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