#I may be reaching in some areas but I don't care | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

candy69gurl · 6 months ago

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PERIOD PAIN HEALER !!

PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x f!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x f!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x f!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x f!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x f!reader [seperate]

SYNOPSIS It's understandable that the month's arrival brings with it a series of unpleasant sensations and discomfort that nobody enjoys experiencing. However, things aren't so unpleasant when you have someone to support you through this time, such as your caring stepdad, who is more than willing to assist you in any way possible..

WARNING stepcest, pre-established relationship, comfort, nipple sucking & playing, orgasm through nipple playing, bloody pussy eating, use of four arms for pleasure (sukuna), cock warming, p in bloody v, fingering, use of bad nicknames (geto), clit rubbing, soft sex, clit rubbing with cock

NOTE In my experience, having an orgasm during your period reduces cramps. I wrote it while on my periods lol. I'm just a girl (with daddy issues) ... Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me or report my post; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh). Reposting cause tumblr removed it.

◈ SATORU GOJO

Gojo's eyes widen as he catches the sight of you clad in one of his oversized T-shirts, your small frame barely managing to contain its folds. You look like a lost little rabbit, shivering slightly, bouncing on your toes as you pace nervously near the bathroom door.

"Hey, hey," Gojo murmurs, brows furrowing as he takes in the sight before stepping closer. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, coaxing you to meet his gaze. "What's goin' on, sweetheart?"

His voice is soft, comforting - a stark contrast to his usual cockiness. You look up at him, your eyes filled with uncertainty, and he feels a pang in his chest. Something's clearly off, and he knows he needs to get to the bottom of it.

"Are you alright?" he presses gently, concern coloring his voice as he reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gentle pressure of his fingers seems to calm you somewhat, and you nod, averting your gaze.

"Yes...", you mumble, but it sounds more like an excuse than the truth.

He tilts your chin upward, "Don't lie to daddy," he whispers softly, searching your eyes for any hint of distress. There's a tenderness in his voice that surprises you both - unusual for the usually arrogant man. Swallowing hard, he adds, "Tell me what's wrong."

Despite yourself, you find yourself opening up, the words spilling forth: "It's just... uh... cramps, and I feel uneasy."

He kneels on his knees, lifting up your top and leaning in to kiss your vulnerable tummy before softly massaging the area. The touch is firm yet soothing, causing you to relax slightly despite the lingering pain.

"That's better, isn't it?" he remarks, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice. You nod syly not breaking eye contact with him. Gojo's expression softens, and he pulls you into a warm embrace. "Ah, I see.. That feels good.. ," he says, rubbing your back soothingly. "Don't worry about it. Let's take care of you, okay?"

As he gently leads you to your room, Gojo's mind races with ways he can help ease your discomfort. He doesn't want you to suffer, not when he could do something about it.

Once settled on the soft cushions, he slowly slides his hands up and down your abdomen, his other hand cupping one of your breast gently in his large palms. You gasp slightly at the sensation, the nipple tingling under his skilled touch. Gently, he rolls it between his thumbs and forefingers, eliciting a moan from deep within you. This causes him to smirk devilishly and lean in closer.

His warm breath caresses your chest as he whispers, "They hurt too, don't they?"

"Y-yes, a bit," you confess shyly.

His smile broadens, and without further ado, he bends his head down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you as he sucks lightly, increasing the pressure gradually, making you squirm involuntarily. His other hand moves from your abdomen to massage the other breast, his thumb occasionally flicking against the engorged nub.

The sensation is uncomfortable and pleasurable simultaneously, bringing forth an array of mixed feelings within you. He lifts his head briefly, looking into your flushed face with a knowing smile. "This should help alleviate some of the discomfort, my dear. Just let go and enjoy it." He returns to his task, sucking harder on your nipple while tweaking the other, sending waves of sensation cascading through your body.

You can't help but give in to the intense feelings coursing through you, your back arching slightly as he continues his ministrations. Your breathing becomes ragged, and you grip the sheets beneath you, trying to stay grounded in reality.

You find yourself reaching climax unexpectedly, your entire body trembling under his touch. "D-daddy cumming," your lips move to form an involuntary moan, and he looks up, satisfaction written across his features.

He releases your nipple, running his thumb over your mouth before pulling you closer. His voice is velvety smooth as he murmurs, "You came just by me sucking your nipples? Guess you are really sensitive now"

With a satisfied hum, he pulls away, drawing you into his embrace. His arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest. "There you go," he mutters, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you lean into him. The rhythmic motion quickly lulls you into a sense of comfort, easing the last of your tension.

"Feeling good now?" he asks his crystalline blue eyes turning soft only for you. You nod shyly, closing your eyes momentarily, your heartbeat decreasing.

"Get some rest now, sweetheart. When you wake up, the discomfort will be gone. I'll make sure to stock up on those chocolate candies you love, kikufuku or something similar. That should help cheer you up, yeah?" He speaks into your hair, his voice low and soothing. "And remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."

Slowly, your eyelids grow heavy, and soon enough, sleep claims you. In his arms, you drift off to dreamland, cradled by his warmth and strength. He watches over you until you're peacefully asleep, then rises from the bed with a content smile, leaving you undisturbed.

◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO

As the pangs begin, you find yourself in agony, groaning softly and clutching your lower abdomen tightly, the whole day you are in your room, you even missed dinner. Suddenly, you hear footsteps to your room, you look up to see your stepdad, Toji, walking into your room with a concerned expression on his face. "What's wrong? Tired of being a brat?" he asks, moving closer to you.

"My period started," you mumble, unable to hide the pain from your voice. "It's so sudden and painful."

Toji, raises an eyebrow in surprise before responding gruffly, "Why do ya always whine about these little things? It happens to everyone! Get over it!" He waves dismissively, leaving you feeling hurt and ignored. Your heart sinks as tears start to form in your eyes, "Don't cry now, I swear I can't tolerate ya's mood swings during these days," he observes you closely for a moment, noticing the genuine distress in your eyes.

After witnessing your pain and tears, Toji's cold exterior crumbles slightly, replaced by tenderness and guilt. Though he is annoyed by how weak and whiny you are, he can't bear to watch his little step daughter suffering. Gently, he props onto your bed, the bed jumping slightly with his weight, as he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. He starts to rub your stomach in soft, slow circles, attempting to alleviate some of the pain.

"Sorry," his voice husky with regret, "I didn't mean to be harsh. Let me make it up to you." His hand gradually moves from your stomach to your neck, his thumb gently tracing circles on your tender skin. The sensation mixes with the pressure of his touch, bringing a sense of comfort and relaxation that slowly takes over your body.

"Just close your eyes and rest," he whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you." As if in a trance, you obey his instructions, allowing his words and touch to lull you into a state of calmness. His hands continue their gentle rhythm, kneading your stomach and caressing your neck, his lips occasionally brushing softly against your cheek.

As you drift off to sleep in Toji's caring embrace, you find solace in his presence and the gentle caresses that soothe your body. The tension in your muscles slowly dissipates, and eventually, exhaustion claims you. Time passes unnoticed as you both rest, your breathing deepening and evening out into peaceful slumber.

However, as night falls, your cramps return with a vengeance, waking you up from your peaceful slumber with a gasp. You wriggle uncomfortably, your hands instinctively clutching your stomach as pain courses through you. Your eyes flutter open to find Toji also awake, concern etched upon his features. He watches you intently, his own face contorted with worry as he observes your discomfort.

He repeats this motion multiple times, his tongue tracing intricate patterns across your sensitive skin, each movement accompanied by soft, reassuring whispers. His hands reach for yours, pulling them away gently from your stomach. "Shh, don't worry," he murmurs, concern evident in his voice. "I know it hurts, but we don't have any heating pads or medication here. What if I try something else?" He looks at you expectantly, a glint of determination in his eyes.

You nod hesitantly, unsure of what else could possibly help. Slowly, he shifts his position, leaning closer to you. His gaze locks onto your stomach, his expression intense as he focuses on the task at hand. Then, without warning, Toji presses his lips to your stomach, the warmth of his breath sending waves of relief throughout your tense muscles. His tongue darts out, lightly flicking at your skin, causing a shiver to race down your spine. Surprised, you let out a small moan, your body reacting to his unexpected touch.

You get caught off guard by Toji's sudden move, you let out a soft squeak as he swiftly removes your shorts and panties. Embarrassment washes over you, but his determined gaze leaves no room for protest. He glances at your blood-covered pad, a hint of curiosity in his green eyes, as if studying the sight for the first time.

Before you can recover from the shock of his actions, he holds you firmly but gently in place, his hands strong on your hips, pinning you to the bed.

"Please...don't do anything.. It's weird," you stammer, your eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment, but there's a hint of desire there too - this wasn't exactly an unwelcome sensation.

"Shhh," he hushes you, his voice rough with desire. "This might help, trust me." And with that, he lowers his head, his mouth approaching your bloody core.

As soon as his mouth touches you, the sensation is overwhelming. The warmth of his lips combined with the wet heat of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. His movements are neither tentative nor shy, rather they're hungry and bold, as if he's been waiting for this moment for a long time.

Blood colors his lips and chin as he continues to feast on you. Despite the circumstances, a strange mixture of pleasure and embarrassment fills you.

"It feels so...weird but good," you confess, biting your lip as pleasurable shivers rack your body.

Toji lifts his head, his gaze locked on yours, "Good?" he queries, his voice thick with lust. His eyes reflect a primal satisfaction that overwhelms any semblance of shame or guilt. Your response seems to ignite something within him, and he dives back in with renewed vigor, his tongue delving deeper, his hunger growing stronger. The scent of your blood mingled with your natural arousal fills the air, heightening the intensity of the experience.

With Toji's relentless attention, it doesn't take long for you to reach your climax. Your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. He feels it too, the tremors beneath him signaling your release. His tongue never stops its steady pace, guiding you through the peak of your ecstasy until you finally collapse back onto the bed, panting heavily.

Toji pulls away with a satisfied hum, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. "That should help the cramps," he states, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

But instead of leaving, he crawls up alongside you, pulling you into another tight embrace. "Rest now, kay?," he whispers, nuzzling your neck as he speaks. "We'll deal with anything else tomorrow."

Despite the unusual circumstances, you find comfort in his arms once again. His chest rises and falls steadily next to yours, his heartbeat a calming rhythm that lulls you back into slumber. The night stretches ahead, quiet and peaceful, with nothing but the two of you sharing the same space.

◈ NANAMI KENTO

As the door creaks open, you know right away it's Nanami stepping in. The scent of his cologne wafts towards you, signaling his arrival. You glance up from the couch and look towards the hallway, anticipating his arrival.

"Hey, honey," he greets softly, voice carrying a hint of weariness. "How are you doing?"

You give him a weak smile, trying to hide the pain you feel from your period. "Just dealing with some cramps, dad," you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible. "No big deal."

He nods, offering you a sympathetic look as he walks closer, then removes his jacket & glasses and places his work bag on the coffee table. "Well, let's see if there's anything I can do to help you out," he says, reaching out to gently brush your hair aside.

"Oh, don't worry about me, dad," you assure him quickly, attempting to put on a brave face despite the discomfort. "It's not that bad. But thank you for asking."

Nanami raises an eyebrow at you, studying your expression carefully. "Don't try to lie to me, sweetheart, I can see your toes curling from the pain" he says gently. "I understand how painful these periods can be. Here, come. Let me help you, okay?", he says gesturing you on his lap.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling embarrassed about showing your weakness in front of him. However, Nanami's concern is evident in his eyes and you can't resist the urge to lean into his comforting embrace. As you sit on his lap, he wraps his arms around you tightly, providing you with warmth and support.

"There you go," he murmurs softly, rubbing your back in circular motions. "Do you want some painkillers? Maybe a hot pad? Or anything that will lessen your pain?" he offers.

Your body responds instinctively to his touch, moving closer to him unconsciously. You feel yourself grinding against him slightly and gasp, realizing what you've done. Your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but Nanami remains composed.

"Easy now," he says quietly, placing his hand on your hips to steady both of you. "We'll take care of this quickly, okay?"

Feeling guilty for making him hard, you reach for his pants, running your fingers along the outline of his erection through the fabric. It's hard and warm beneath your touch and you pause before slowly stroking it.

"Will you feel good, if it's in you?", he asks; he is genuinely concerned about your well being more than his own.

You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your face once again."Yes, please... I think it would help," you admit shyly.

Nanami looks at you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright, then," he says decisively, lifting you up, freeing his member.

Nanami's thumb pushes aside your panties, his other hand positions his shaft at your entrance. He slowly slips into your bloodied cunt, the crimson fluid and your arousal making it easier for him to slide through your gummy walls. You gasp softly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed as he stretches your insides.

For a few moments, neither of you moves; his hands resting firmly on your waist, his breath warm on your neck. Then, your hips begin to buck involuntarily against him, seeking deeper penetration. The combination of pain and pleasure sends shivers down your spine.

Your red fluids seeps into his tan-coloured trousers, making them brown. But that's not his concern now. "That's it," Nanami murmurs approvingly, adjusting his grip on your hip as you move. "Let it out, baby girl. Let everything out."

Slowly, he begins to thrust into you, setting a rhythm that matches your movements. His hands roam across your body, finding your nipples and rubbing them lightly. The pleasure intensifies, culminating in soft moans escaping from your lips.

As Nanami's thrusts become more forceful, so does your breathing. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you and soon enough, you feel the edge of release drawing near.

"Daddy.. A-ah.." You whisper hoarsely, gripping onto him tightly as your orgasm builds up. You're on the verge of losing control, feeling every nerve ending ignite.

A final powerful thrust sends you over the edge, your body trembling and you arching into him. A cry escapes your lips, muffled against his shoulder as you let it all out - all the pent-up frustration, discomfort, and desire colliding together in an intense climax.

Nanami holds you close, riding out your orgasm until the last ripple subsides. Once you're stable, he pulls out his blood-coated shaft slowly, leaving you slightly empty but content.

"There you go," he whispers reassuringly as you leans onto his chest. "That should help ease the cramps."

You lean into him, panting heavily as your mind starts to clear. The tension from the day dissolves away, replaced by a sense of satisfaction.

"Thank you, Daddy," you murmur gratefully, your voice shaky yet sincere.

Nanami smiles gently, kissing your temple. "Anything for my little girl," he promises softly.

◈ GETO SUGURU

Your stepfather, Suguru, has always been distant but kind when necessary, and you knew that he will help you with this matter as well. He takes care of all your needs, giving you various stuffs to help you go through your periods. Despite your gratitude, the fact remains that he despises non-sorcerers.

“You should be grateful I take care of such filth. Monkeys are disgusting creatures", he says while rubbing your back gently.

"Sorry for being a burden..", you reply, your eyes getting teary once again.

His face softens slightly as he continues comforting you, trying to make sure you feel better despite his true thoughts about you,

“Don’t worry about being a burden. It’s my duty to take care of you too, after all. Now focus on feeling better, monkey.”

"S'top being mean...", you speak nuzzling your head against his chest.

Surprised by your sudden reaction, he quickly puts aside his arrogance and focuses entirely on relieving your pain. A smile forms on his lips, albeit reluctantly, as he pats your head gently, secretly enjoying the momentary affection. “I’m not being mean, child. Just stating the truth. But since you asked nicely, I’ll stop for now.”

You relax in his embrace, yet flinch occasionally when cramps pain you. Gently rubbing your lower abdomen in a circular motion, he asks, “Are you okay? This shouldn’t hurt this much.”

As he continues his ministrations, his hands accidentally brush against your clit, causing a shiver to run through your body, you bite your lip trying to stop an incoming moan. Noticing this, he hesitates for a second, but then decides to continue, figuring that it might provide some relief. “Just let me help you here…” he murmurs softly

Cautiously, he reaches down and begins removing your underwear, making sure not to aggravate your delicate area further. Once it's off, he gently massages your exposed bud.

“This should help ease your discomfort,” he whispers reassuringly, his fingers lingering on your most sensitive spots.

"P-please, your hands are getting dirty..", your hands moving to stop his. He chuckles dryly at your protest, his expression darkening slightly as he maintains his touch.

“Believe me, I’ve dealt with far worse than this. Now try to relax, monkey.” with that, he continues stroking you, occasionally brushing against your entrance as well.

You gasp softly, trying to contain your growing arousal. The contradiction between his harsh words and gentle touch creates a strange mix of emotions within you.

“Please, don't call me that," you plead, your voice barely audible.

He stops abruptly, his gaze hardening as he meets yours. “There’s nothing wrong with the truth. Now, monkey focus on breathing and letting go of this pain.”

Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. His eyes lock onto yours, watching your reactions intently as he starts moving them rhythmically.

“This might be uncomfortable at first, but it will help more than you think.”

Despite your embarrassment, the sensation is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. His skilled fingers create waves of pleasure mixed with pain. You squirm beneath his touch, unsure how to react to your conflicting emotions.

He watches your reactions carefully, his eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction. "Good girl. Relax and enjoy it. This will make you feel better."

His rhythmic thrusts start to increase, matching the intensity of your growing arousal. You can't help but moan softly, your body responding to his touch despite your reservations.

"That's right. Let it out," he encourages, his voice lowers into a growl, his eyes narrowing slightly as he feels your walls tighten around his digits.

“Feel free to make noise, monkey. You need this release” The deeper he plunges, the stronger your reactions become. Your breath hitches, and you can't help but wrap your legs around his wrist, pulling him closer.

He grins wickedly, twisting his fingers inside you ever so slightly as he continues thrusting. His fingers dance in a way that brings an unusual sense of ecstasy and discomfort simultaneously.

Despite his choice of words, there’s something strangely comforting about his dominance. You find yourself lost in the sensations, your protests fading away until all that remains is the rhythmic movement of his fingers and the occasional muffled moan escaping your lips.

Ignoring the sight of his fingers coated with your crimson fluid everytime he moves out of you, he intensifies his movements, focusing on your pleasure rather than the messiness. Despite his usual contempt, his interest seems to peak with every drop of blood coating his fingers.

“Such a good girl. Love you sweetheart.. Let it all out.” His deep voice echoes in your ears like a chant, urging you to give in to the sensations. As your climax draws near, his words resonate louder in your mind, guiding you towards the peak.

The orgasm hits you like a wave, overwhelming your senses as he skillfully drives you to the edge. Your body trembles beneath him, your nails digging into whatever they could find purchase in, and you cry out.

His expression turns feral as you reach your high, a hint of triumph glimmering in his eyes. When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers out slowly, licking them clean.

Your eyes and mouth, both widen at his action.

"Still feeling pain?", he asks, his demeanor chaning back to normal.

You take deep breaths, trying to regain your composure. Despite the lingering discomfort, there's a newfound sense of warmth within you, thanks to his touch.

“N-no not anymore... Thank you, daddy”, you thank him, your hands reaching for his, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his..

His eyes meet yours, a flicker of surprise passing through them before he smirks. “Of course, my little monkey. After all, it's my responsibility to take care of you too, isn't?", He pinches your cheek, and you nod, tilting back your head to rest.

◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA

Ryomen enters the room, his usual stoic expression barely shifting as he takes in the sight of you, holding your stomach from the cramps. "Uraume," he growls, gesturing towards the you. "Assist her." Turning his gaze back to you, he studies you for a moment before speaking again. "Your monthly curse approaches, huh? I suppose it can't be helped. Uraume will help you with the pain. Stay still, and try not to-"

"P-please.. I need you", you protest, wanting to be comforted only by him.

"Hmm, I see" Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the request. He slowly moves closer, examining your face before pulling you close to him gently.

With a sigh, he concedes. "Very well, your pleading is... entertaining. Lie down, and we shall see if I can ease your suffering."

He helps you onto the soft tatami mat, gently placing a pillow underneath your head. He reaches out to untie your obi, revealing your delicate undergarments. Carefully, he lifts them aside and lowers his head towards you then begins to lick and nibble at your flesh, blood droplets landing on his tonue.

"S-stop i-its dirty!", you protest, try to push his massive head away from your core.

He grins devilishly, his eyes gleaming in delight as he grasps your legs firmly with his two powerful arms. While his third hand expertly kneads your breast, his 'mouth' forms from the fourth one, closing over your nipple possessively. He sucks gently, causing your body to arch involuntarily.

"Hmph, you taste delicious. Just like ripe fruit..." He hums, his breath hitting your core. You feel yourself becoming flushed, his actions both embarrassing yet exhilarating. Despite your protests, you can't deny the pleasure coursing through you.

As his lips trace delicately across your skin, you begin to feel a warm sensation building within you. Your breathing becomes ragged, and your hips buck subconsciously. Slowly, his skilled hands and mouth bring you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you let out a muffled cry, your release washing over you.

Once you've caught your breath, he pulls away, satisfaction radiating from his gaze. "There, much better. Your monthly pain curse should subside now." He smirks, wiping his mouth clean before standing up. "You may rest, dear. Remember, I am here to assist you whenever you need, even with such trivial matters."

With a final glance at your flushed face, Ryomen licks his lips slowly, his eyes lingering on your twitching body for just a moment longer. Then, to your astonishment, he leans in and presses his lips against your stomach.

"Goodnight, my dear." He says, disappearing into the shadows with a soft rustling of robes, leaving only the faintest.

◈ SHIU KONG

"Hey there, kiddo," he asks softly, setting down his cigarette on the table. "How are you feelin' today?" He knows your cycle started yesterday and he just wanna make sure you're alright. "Need anything from me? Want some ice cream?" he suggests with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"N-NO", you nearly yell at him but soon realise you shouldn't have; your mood swings are getting the best of you.

"Alright, alright." He chuckles, raising his hands defensively. "I wasn't gonna force you to eat ice cream if you don't want to.. Just making an offer."

He stands up, crossing the room to sit next to you. His large hand gently rests on your shoulder. "Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" His eyes widen at the sudden appearance of tears, concern filling his face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest.

"What's goin' on, huh? What's got you all upset?" He strokes your hair gently, trying to offer comfort. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I won't judge you."

The warmth of his embrace seeps into your bones, "Just cramps..", you reply, your voice slightly shaken by your emotions.

"Ah, that's rough," he says, nodding understandingly. "Let me grab you some painkillers, then. And maybe a heating pad to help ease those cramps."

As he gets up, he adds, "Try to relax, alright? We'll get through this together."

The way he says 'we' makes your heart skip a beat, but you push the thought away, focusing on the relief of his words.

"C-can you just stay here and", you pull his hand and direct it around your abdomen where it aches, "please massage it?"

Surprised, Shiu looks down at your hands, then back into your eyes. "Of course," he murmurs, resting one hand on your tummy and the other on your thigh. His fingers press gently, moving in slow circles. "Is this okay?"

His palm warms against your skin, alleviating some tension. You let out a shaky groan, giving in to his touch and allowing him to make you feel better.

He swallows hard, adjusting his grip, pressing deeper into your abdomen. The heat from his hand spreads, easing some of the pain.

"Better?" he whispers, concern etched onto his face. "Don't worry," he continues, glancing away nervously. "I've dealt with enough curse users in my career to handle a little cramping."

As his hands move rhythmically across your stomach, his eyes catch yours, lingering for just a moment too long. They try to ignore the electric charge between them.

"Yes..." you answer breathlessly, closing your eyes. "That feels good..." Your body responds to his touch, and you can't help but wish it would last forever.

Shiu shifts his patterns, from rubbing your abdomen to sliding through your shorts to rub against your clad clit. You are too absorbed in pleasure to notice his hand slipping through your shorts. When you come back to your senses, your eyes follow the movement of his hands.

"I said I'd help with the cramps, not..." he trails off, glancing away sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to get carried away", tries to take his hands off you, when you stop him.

"N-no daddy, feels good", you speak timidly, not making eye contact with him.

He freezes for a second, his eyes widening. He chuckles, though it sounds shaky. "Guess you got a bit carried away too, huh?" With a smirk, he resumes his massage, adjusting his hand to provide more pressure to your clit. He leans closer, his free hand coming to cup your cheek.

"You alright?" he asks, concern coloring his voice. "This isn't making things worse, right?" You shake your head, still avoiding his glances. "Well, well," he chuckles, his fingers continuing their dance. "Seems like someone's enjoying this more than they should."

He rubs his thumb agains your lips. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything you don't want. Just trying to make you feel better."

His touch grows bolder, his hand removing your shorts and panties to rub your clit bare. Your body flinches on direct contact.

His hand pauses, his eyes meeting yours. The look in his eyes is a mix of surprise and exhilaration. "Shall I continue?" he asks, concern filling his tone.

"Yes... yes please," you whisper, blushing furiously.

His eyebrows raise, but he nods slowly. "Okay, just let me know if it's too much, alr?" His fingers resume their movement, rubbing your swollen clit with renewed vigor. You moan softly, leaning into his touch.

He takes advantage of your vulnerability, his other hand sneaking under your shirt to caress your breast. His fingers brush against your nipple, and you gasp, arching into his touch. A shiver runs down your spine, your thighs parting naturally to accommodate his hand.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispers, his hand moves downwards, exploring your stomach, hips, and thighs.

Then, you finally cry out, your legs trembling as an orgasm rips through you, more crimson fluid oozing from within you. Shiu freezes, his eyes wide, "Whoa, whoa, easy there, kiddo," he mutters.

He stops his ministrations, allowing you to recover from your climax. When you finally regain control, he lets out a quiet laugh. "Didn't expect that," he admits, shaking his head slightly. "But hey, if it feels good, then I guess I did a good job"

"Y-yes felt good.. T-thanks dad..", you admit swallowing hard.

"I'm glad, really," he replies, his hands returning to your stomach. His eyes finally meeting yours again.

"But you know," he says hesitantly. "If you ever need a hand... helping you out, you can count on me, right girl?" He smiles, cupping your jaw. "Just remember that."

◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI

Upon returning from work, Hiromi notices his little girl curled up in bed, clutching her abdomen in obvious discomfort. Immediately, concern fills his usually stoic expression. He gently approaches you and examines your face, trying to gauge the severity of your pain.

"Darling," he whispers softly, trying not to startle you. "Are you unwell?" His hand rests lightly on her forehead, feeling for any signs of fever.

You shift in your sleep whispering, "Period pain"

Hiromi's brow furrows with worry, realizing what might be causing your discomfort. He reaches out to grab a pillow and gently places it under your knees to ease the pressure on your lower abdomen.

"I'm so sorry," he says, tenderly. "Didn't expect this to happen today. Let me make you something warm and comforting to help ease the pain."

He stands up to leave for kitchen when you stop him by his hands. "P-please you don't need to do anything.."

He looks down at you, his heart aching for the discomfort you must be experiencing. He understands your desire to handle things independently, but as your stepdad, he feels responsible for taking care of you.

"No matter how grown-up you try to be," Hiromi says softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, "You're still my little girl, and I want to help you feel better." He kneels beside the bed again and takes your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me what will make you feel better"

"You..", you reply instantly and involuntarily.

Hiromi looks at you confused by your request," Me?"

Words stuck in your throat as you swallow hard while speaking again, "inside me.."

Hiromi's eyes widen slightly at your unexpected words. He releases a quiet breath, trying to process what you are asking of him. There's a moment where confusion lingers in his gaze before understanding dawns upon him.

"I... I understand," he says in a measured tone. "But are you sure about this?"

His fingers trace gentle circles on the back of your hand, offering both comfort and support. "It's alright if you're uncomfortable discussing it. We can find another way to help with the pain."

You speak again slowly, not meeting his gaze. "Please.."

Hiromi swallows hard, a mix of emotions churning in his chest. Surprise, worry, and protectiveness all coalesce into a single determination. He knows he can't force himself onto you, no matter how much he wants to ease your pain. But he also recognizes your need for comfort and relief.

"Alright," he agrees quietly, rising from the bed to move to the foot of it. "Let's get you more comfortable first."

With utmost gentleness, Hiromi eases you onto your back, making sure you're lying flat and secure on the bed. He removes your remaining clothing, ensuring you're comfortable throughout the process. Once you're settled, his fingertips brush against your skin, eliciting a shiver from you.

"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "Just trying to make you as comfortable as possible."

He prepares himself, taking off his garments and discarding them on the floor, "Ready?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

A tremulous nod is your response, your eyes locked with his. Hiromi smiles softly, reaching for your legs. He spreads them apart gently, his touch tender yet purposeful.

"We'll take this slowly," he promises, his thumbs brushing the inside of your thighs. Your thighs shake slightly, but he stops immediately. "If at any moment you feel pain or discomfort, please tell me, okay?"

You give a small nod, and he continues, his fingers tracing along your inner thighs before eventually finding their way to your core. A nervous flutter courses through you, but he remains patient and gentle.

"Just relax," he instructs as he directs himself between your legs.

Hiromi enters you slowly, taking his time to allow your body to adjust to his presence. He moves with careful precision, each thrust deliberate and unhurried. A deep sense of tenderness fills him as he looks into your eyes, gauging your reaction. Your breath hitches with each movement, but there's no sign of distress.

"How are you doing?" he asks softly, his pace matching the rhythm of your breathing.

"Good..so good.. It's so deep and it's.. a-ah", you flinch at his sudden and rough thrust.

Hiromi winces slightly at your discomfort, stopping instantly. "I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to cause you pain." He pulls out slowly, his expression full of concern.

"No, it's fine..." you breathe out. "Don't stop..."

He studies your face for a moment, making sure you're truly okay. When he sees your nod, he begins again, moving slower than before.

As his movements continue, his shaft becomes coated with your menstrual blood. Despite the unusual circumstance, Hiromi pushes those thoughts aside and focuses solely on providing comfort and relief. Each stroke is filled with tender care, designed to bring warmth and pleasure rather than discomfort.

Your eyes close, your body arching ever so slightly with each thrust. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your soft moans and his steady breaths.

As the minutes pass, Hiromi can feel your body responding to his touch, the subtle changes telling him you're nearing your climax. His own heart races, feeling a strange mixture of pride and protectiveness. All he desires is to provide you with comfort and release.

"That's it," he whispers, his tempo increasing ever so slightly. "Let go, darling. Let the pleasure wash away your pain."

Suddenly, your body tenses, a wave of ecstasy washing over you. Hiromi matches your intensity, his own breath catching in his throat as he feels your muscles clench around him. With one final surge, he follows you over the edge, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

As your orgasm subsides, Hiromo collapses onto your chest, his heart pounding heavily against yours. He kisses your forehead softly, his breath ragged. "There you go," he murmurs.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I hope this helped alleviate your pain."

You look up at him, a grateful smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, it does not pain anymore"

Smile washes over Hiromi's face as he realizes his actions have indeed brought you relief. He pulls out slowly, carefully cleaning up afterwards. Once done, he helps you get cleaned and comfortable, tucking you in tightly.

Hiromi wraps you in his arms, feeling your gratitude like a soothing balm on his soul. He holds you close, stroking your hair gently as you snuggle against his chest. The silence between you speaks volumes about the bond shared - one of love, protection, and unspoken understanding.

"Get some rest now," he says softly, his voice lulling you further into relaxation.

◈ CHOSO KAMO

As a stepfather, Choso is there for you in times of need. Right now, you're going through your period, and he's ready to help take care of you. He's not bold or confident, but he knows how important it is to support you during this time.

Being a curse, Choso is indeed curious about the human body. As he helps you with your period, he finds himself fascinated by your menstrual cycle. He wants to comfort you and learn more about this natural process, taking care of you while gently studying your body.

Gently, Choso holds you close as you lay on his thighs, the cramps making you hiss occasionally. His fingers lightly trace circles over your stomach, attempting to provide comfort as he absorbs the rhythm of your pain. The unfamiliar feeling of caring for someone heals a part of him, even though it's something as simple as relieving period cramps.

"Are you okay?" Choso whispers softly, concern lacing his voice. "I've never experienced something like this before... I want to help, but I'm not sure what to do." He continues stroking your stomach, trying to find some relief for you and hoping his touch brings comfort amidst the discomfort.

You force a smile, saying you're fine, but Choso can tell you're not. Your words don't match the tension in your body. He carefully moves closer, placing his hands between your legs, gently caressing your stomach in a slow, soothing motion.

"May I try massaging your lower abdomen?," he suggests, cautiously approaching your abdomen. His fingers are warm and soft, hesitating slightly as he seeks your permission. "It might help with the cramps," he adds, his dark purple eyes filled with concern. He's never done this before, but he wants to help you feel better. He's always been interested in human bodies and their functions, but now he's learning more intimately.

Reluctantly, you nod, allowing Choso to continue massaging your lower abdomen. His fingers move slowly, tracing gentle patterns that might bring you some relief. As he works his fingers, you instinctively start grinding against his hand, seeking more friction to ease your discomfort. Choso notices this, but doesn't stop.

As his fingers reach closer to your core, you let out soft moans that he interprets as pleasure rather than pain. He sees how much you enjoy it, and decides to use his other hand too, cupping your hip to guide you into proper position. He studies your reactions, understanding that the sensation seems to bring you relief. The curves of your hips and the heat of your body under his hands make him feel both excited and responsible for your well-being.

"Is this helping?" he asks, his voice low and husky, portraying a hint of excitement. "I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but I think it might be working." He watches your movements closely, guided by your responses. Every moan, every small sound of pleasure fuels his curiosity and makes him wonder how else he could make you feel good.

Despite his confusion and innocence, Choso can't ignore the growing attraction between you both. His cock starts to stiffen, pressing against his clothes. He groans softly trying to hide his arousal but you soon turn your head to reveal his massive bulge pressing against your head.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, embarrassed by his reaction. "This wasn't supposed to happen..." He's unsure how to handle the situation, partially aroused and partially concerned for you. "Should we stop?"

"P-please, let me grind against it", with a mix of surprise and nervousness, you beg him to let you grind against his erection. Choso's heart races; this isn't what he expected. Reluctantly, he places your head on the pillow, positions himself between your legs and undoes your pants, revealing your bloodied and swollen pussy. His eyes widen, he has never seen something like this.

He pulls out his own hard cock making sure he does everything to make you feel better. Carefully, he guides the head of his cock to your throbbing clit, rubbing it back and forth in small motions. Your contractions push your wet folds onto the tip of his shaft, leaving a trail of blood. Choso can't help but groan, feeling the warmth and wet folds rubbing against his member.

Choso looks into your eyes, seeking consent or dismissal. What he sees is desire, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Swallowing hard, he feels a strange mixture of arousal and responsibility. Choso's pace increases as both of you moan heavily. He keeps rubbing his cock against your clit, feeling your wetness increase with each thrust.

Soon, you climax, shaking in his grasp, and he can't hold back anymore. Aching to release his own tension, Choso spills his cum onto your belly, still rubbing his cock against your clit. The warmth of your body and the sight of his seed spreading over your skin overwhelm him. "I'm—I'm sorry," he mumbles, pulling away. "That wasn-"

You interrupt him with "T-thank you.."

Choso's face turns bright red, but he can't deny the gratitude in your voice. Confusion clouds his mind, but he appreciates your Thank you.

"Y-you're welcome..." He stammers, trying to catch his breath. Despite everything, he feels satisfied knowing he brought pleasure to you. "Do you feel better now?"

"Y-yes so much", you admit.

After a moment, Choso kisses your cheeks gently, surprised at how soft and warm they feel. He stands up, helping you to your feet as well. "Let's clean up," he says quietly, guiding you towards the bathroom.

dividers from @/cafekitsune

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doctorbeth · 10 months ago

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A giant bear and a tiny monkey, from the same home!

Back in August a gentleman reached out to me about his wife's giant panda, Edward (Eddie) Bear. He wasn't just giant by breed, but he was actually a giant at about 5 feet from head to toe.

Here are some diagnosis photos:

In addition to stuffing compression, Eddie had quite a few seam issues, and some (not visible) tears. He came to the hospital for a spa and wound repair. Here he is in his bubble bath (he gets the giant tub).:-)

Restuffing took quite a few adjustments to get his shape right, but soon he was restuffed, fur fluffed, wounds repaired, and ready to head home:

Now Eddie headed home and his family was very happy! They wrote:

"Thank you so much, Beth, for providing the excellent care that our boy needed and deserved.

S and I are 100% satisfied with his outcome, so much cleaner, much less slouched and his wounds are all fully healed.

I wonder how many people realize and act on their true calling in life.

I believe I do with my wood working, and I know you do with Realms of Gold."

Nice, yes? But even better... a few weeks later the gentleman's wife reached out. Now that Eddie was better, she wanted to get her husband's companion, Mr. Monkey repaired. She wrote:

"First off let me start by telling you how happy Les and I are with the care you gave Eddie Bear. He is like new again and we are so pleased!

Sooo, it got me thinking about Mr. Monkey. Mr. Monkey is Les’ child and has definitely seen better days. I have my doubts as to whether he can be helped because of the shape he is in. But I thought it was worth a try to inquire."

Here are his diagnosis photos, and if you've been a long time reader of my blog, you may guess my response... he's not nearly as bad as you think and we can definitely help him!

The plan was a spa and recovering Mr. Monkey's brown. The brown area was originally knitted (which I don't repair), but we agreed recovering it in a fur or fabric would add to his stability without changing his personality. So he came to the hospital and....

Here he is in his spa:

Much tinier than Eddie, Mr. Monkey is slightly bigger than a hand!

Of course Mr. Monkey (and Eddie) got hearts of original stuffing... here are the two hearts:

There were several fabric options for Mr. Monkey's brown, and his people opted for a thin minky fur. Here he is all better!

Mr. Monkey headed home and when he arrived his family wrote:

"Mr. Monkey is home safe and sound! He looks GREAT! He said he enjoyed being at the hospital, getting such great care from you! By the way he talks, I think he’s quite smitten with you! He says he’ll miss you!

Anyway, we can’t thank you enough for your TLC and expertise!

Don’t you love the red bow tie? It came on a Christmas gift and L snatched it and saved it for when Mr. Monkey returned home. "

And here he is looking spiffy in that new bow tie!

#stuffed animal repair #stuffed animal cleaning #stuffed animal hospital #giant panda #giant teddy bear #sock monkey #monkey #toy monkey #stuffed monkey #stuffed panda #teddy bear #teddy bear repair #teddy bear cleaning

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year ago

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"Oh! That's What That Does?!"

All art by @archie-sunshine

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 2400+ Words NSFW, Valveplug, Plug 'N Play, Mild Sparkplay, Accidental Stimulation, Edging, Human Reader, GN Pronouns

Ahh, the inherent eroticism of repairing your machine.~ I've had this one cooking for a while, so I hope you all enjoy! I've also gotten pretty attached to this mechanic Reader, so they'll likely pop up again with other cassettes (and maybe even some other Decepticons!)

NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!

“Ey… EY! Careful wit’ dat! It’s touchy!”

“Rumble,” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You're making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”

“I wouldn't be complainin’ if you'd stop touchin’ all up on bits that don't gotta be touched! Rootin’ around in there like I'm one’a your crappy organic machines!”

Removing your hands from Rumble’s open chest, you tossed them roughly into the air. “Y'know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Better yet, get Frenzy to pull the shrapnel out of your chest. That'll go great.”

You would have slid off of Rumble’s lap and stormed off, if not for his massive servos closing around your wrists with an unexpected delicacy. Your efforts to remove your hands only reinforced his grip, using just enough force to keep you from leaving without crushing your wrists entirely.

“H-Hey, no need ta be so hasty! Look, I’m just steamed cause'a the battle, dat’s all. Frenz’ can't do dis, it's gotta be someone more… dainty. Y’know. Little human hands and all dat.” The harsh glow of his visor had dulled slightly as his gaze cast down to your hands. You rolled your eyes, wrists finally slipping from his grip as you settled back in.

Dangling wires and sparking shrapnel dotted his open chest cavity, illuminated by the light of his spark chamber. Rumble had staggered off-balance into your workshop whining about the prodding pieces of broken metal keeping him from transforming properly, yet you’d barely managed to get two wires back in place before he started squirming and whingeing and slinging verbal abuse at you.

Not that you weren't used to it, any interactions with Rumble and Frenzy usually involved some level of bullying. Fortunately, the two cassettes are also incredibly predictable. As soon as you would threaten to take away or withhold what they're asking for, they’d start falling all over themselves with apologies and placations. After all, you may not have been the only mechanic in the area, but you were certainly their favorite.

“Are you going to actually let me work? Or are you going to start yelling at me again?”

“Yellin’? Who's yellin’? Yer the mechanic here, my spark is in your squishy little hands. Do your magic, doc.” He sat back again, servos clutching the edges of your workbench in a show of effort, a genuine attempt to keep them still (or however genuine any show of rule-following from Rumble could be.)

“That's what I thought. Now let me actually fix a few things before you start whining again.” Your gloved hands dipped back into his chest cavity, skirting the edges of his spark chamber to pick away at the bits of loose shrapnel stuck in some of the wires. His frame shuddered, a hiss of steam escaping through his dentae as your knuckles brushed the underside of the spark casing.

“C-Careful,” He said again, with significantly less bite to his tone.

“Does it hurt?”

“Somethin’ like dat.”

“I'll be careful, so let me know if it gets to be too much.” You smoothed a palm down the armor covering his stomach, flinching back when you heard another sharp hiss of steam.

“I’m fine! It's fine! Just… do ya gotta be all on top’a me like dis?”

“I can't reach properly if you're laying down. If you're standing you might keel over on me, and I really don't feel like being squished to death today.” He let out a low grumble as you jacked another cable back into its proper port. “I'll try to be quick, that way you won't have to worry about my ‘human germs’ and you can get outta here. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just-”

“Be careful. I know.”

And with that you went to work, separating and organizing cables, taping off leaky tubing and removing pieces of scrap metal as gently as you could. Every once in a while Rumble would jerk or twitch beneath your touch, letting out a muffled curse or huff but sparing you from his usual complaints. It was… uncharacteristically quiet, for sure. This was the most extensive repair you'd ever done on him, though, so maybe he was just having surgery jitters.

“Okay, I've gotten most of the shrapnel out. But there's a piece right behind your spark casing.”

“Well? Get it outta there!”

“I'm going to, but I need to get my whole hand in there. I'm warning you now because it's going to be bumping up against your spark casing a lot. I'm going to do my best but you have to tell me if it hurts too much.”

Rumble let out a long, pathetic groan. “Actually doc, maybe you can just leave dat one in there? F-For funsies?”

“Eh?! Rumble, I’m not gonna just ‘leave it in there’! It's gotta come out.”

“Something's gonna come out if you keep proddin’ around in there like dat…”

“What was that?”

“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”

“...Okay. I’m gonna start now. Are you ready?” Rumble only responded with gritted dentae and a tense nod. Working your gloved hand under his spark chamber, you could feel the ambient energy making the hairs on your arm stand on end as you felt for the jagged edge of broken metal. Your glove blocked your view entirely, so you were left blindly groping your way up the metal surface, feeling for anything bent or out of place. When your fingers could no longer reach any further while still avoiding the casing, you slid forward and ducked slightly into Rumble’s open chest, the back of your hand pressing up against the underside of his spark chamber.

CLANG!

You jumped, and if it weren't for Rumble’s arm wrapping around you and almost crushing you into his open chest you may have jostled the sensitive chamber even further. You slid your hand back again, easing off of the reinforced glass, and his grip receded.

“What the hell was that? And what was that clang?”

“I said don't worry ‘bout it!” He hissed, voice glitchy with static. “Everythin’s totally normal, I dunno why you're getting all jumpy ‘bout- MMNGH?!” You moved your hand up again into the same position, and Rumble let out an embarrassingly high whimper. You glanced up at his face, a flush of pink behind the usual grey and beading with coolant… and something clicked.

“Oh my God are you getting off on this?”

“N-No!”

Behind you you heard a sharp snikt, and the sound of pressurizing hydraulics.

“...Maybe?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“H-Hey, don't go gettin’ a big head or nothin’! A bot’s spark chamber is sensitive! Don't go thinkin’ this is cause of your squishy frame or your soft little digits or nothin’!” He seemed to almost shrink in on himself, face plate practically glowing as his shoulders pulled up around his helm. You'd never say it to his face, but he looked surprisingly… small, at this moment. You heaved an exhausted sigh.

“Okay. Okay. I'm going to get this last piece out, alright? It's the last one. And whatever happens while I'm doing that..? It just happens. We won't bring it up again, no need to be embarrassed. Deal?”

“‘Deal?!?’” He squawked, positively scandalized. “How do I know yer not gonna gossip with Frenz’ the next time he's in for a tune-up?”

“Well Frenzy usually never lets me get a word in edgewise, first of all.” You huffed. This was way more than you'd signed up for. “I'm not going to make fun of you, Rumble. Let’s just get you patched up, then you can head home. Okay?”

His mouth was pulled into a tight, wobbly frown as he glanced down at you, choking out a single word. “...Promise?”

“I promise.”

“...Slag. alright, let's get dis over with.” He lolled his head back against the table with a clank, resigning himself to his fate. This time, when your knuckles brushed his spark casing, he couldn’t stifle his soft moan. Your fingers felt further and further up, until almost your entire hand was behind the glass bubble containing his pulsing spark. Finally, you could feel the jagged piece of metal. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it an experimental tug. It stuck fast, and your hand bumping against Rumble's spark only pulled another surprised moan from him.

“W-Watch it!” He yelped, sounding too fucked-out to come across as actually threatening.

“It's really stuck in there. I'm going to start working it out, so let me know if you need me to stop.”

“Wh… workin’ it out? Whadda ya- ohhh…~”

With your thumb and forefinger gripping the edge of the broken metal, you began to wiggle it gently back and forth to ease it from the plating and wires around it. Each time you moved the back of your hand rubbed up against the far side of his spark chamber, warmth radiating through your glove as Rumble started to vent more harshly.

“Slag… slag! Don't think it's ever been touched back there before. Feels… feels crazy.” He moaned. The metal of your work table shrieked and crumpled like cardboard under his iron grip, desperate to keep his servos off of himself or, Primus forbid, you. The piece stuck firm, and as you braced your other hand against the outside paneling of his chest to readjust your balance he let out a sharp, staticky yelp. “S-STOP!”

You froze immediately. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

A few shuddering vents were your only response for a moment, Rumble’s visor lights flickering frantically as he tried to steady himself. “Whooo… Almost blew my top for a second there.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Yer the one that told me to tell ya if I need ya to stop! I'll be slagged to the Pit before I let some ‘squishy’ run my charge like dat.”

“...Can I start again? I’m making some progress here.”

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”

You let out another soft sigh, trying to focus on the rhythmic sktch sktch sktch of metal on metal rather than Rumble’s shivering whines. His vocalizer pitched and warbled with static, attempts to stifle his own words slowly giving way to a deluge of fucked-out babbles.

“Ah! Gh! Ohh, mmnh, stupid little hands feelin’ all- nnh!~ Jus’ get it outta there! Please?”

I’m working on it. You’re doing good, just hang in there.” Your placations only resulted in another desperate moan. After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty seconds or so, he blurted out again.

“Ah! Stop!”

You retracted your hand for a moment, letting Rumble gasp for breath above you in a futile attempt to cool his core. You rubbed at his chest paneling as he shivered beneath you hard enough that you thought bolts were going to start coming undone. Even the paneling you were seated upon was burning up, heat seeping through the fabric of your coveralls. His glowing face plate was slick with coolant. Without thinking, you reached up and swept away a bead of it with your thumb, making him jump.

“H-Hey, quit dat…” He groaned, all bite lost from his tone.

“Rumble… The more you keep stopping me the longer this is going to take.”

“You think I don’t know dat?!” One of his arms draped dramatically over his face. “I’m tryin’! But you just keep pokin’ around in there and it’s all touchy and it’s makin’ me feel like my spike’s gonna burst and I can’t take it anymore!” He sniffled. Could Cybertronians even sniffle? You weren’t sure, but he sounded close to tears.

“Rumble… Have you ever actually edged yourself before?”

“Whu- Whuh? How’s dat any of yer business?”

“I’m just thinking…” You ran a placating hand down his shivering plating. “If you haven’t it can be really overwhelming, and-”

“I can handle it! I-I can!”

“Let me finish. It can be really overwhelming, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself further. Just… take a deep breath for me, okay?” You took a slow, steadying breath, and after a second he mimicked it. “Good. Just think about letting go, okay? I’m not going to judge you. Just think about it.”

He let out a low, pitying grumble, peeking at you from behind his arm plating. “...You can start again.”

Once again, your hands dipped into his chest cavity. Only this time you slid both hands up behind his spark casing, gripping as much of the broken metal as you could reach. As you rocked it back and forth Rumble’s moans returned with a fervor, one servo finally flying to cup your lower back.

“Ah! Ah! Slag, oh slag please! Please don’t stop I’m so fraggin’ close.” He fisted the back of your uniform, crumpling the cheap fabric between his digits. “C’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon I need it!”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby. Just let it happen.”

With a metallic shriek and a gush of brackish oil the shrapnel popped free, the force enough to send you sprawling if not for Rumble’s servo in the small of your back. Of course, said unexpected force also slammed the backs of both your hands right into the underside of his spark chamber, and Rumble’s voice box screeched into a wail of radio static. Something hot and sticky splattered up the back of your coveralls; said something you decidedly were not going to look at until later. His frame rattled and shivered beneath you, steam venting and joints glitching and spark pulsating a near-blinding glow. Finally, after a burst of noise and sparks and twitching, he went slack beneath you, helm clanking against the workbench as his optics flickered.

As delicately as you could, you removed the oil-slick shrapnel and let it clatter onto the floor before shedding your gloves and dabbing at his face plate with the cuff of your sleeve. With the whir of an old monitor blipping back to life, his visor blinked back up to its standard brightness.

“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.

“How you feeling, hun?”

“Like I got struck by lightnin’... but in like a nasty way.”

You choked back a snort. “Well, I’ve got all the worst of it over with. Feel free to rest for a while if you need it. I’m gonna go change my jumpsuit.”

He let you slide off his lap without a fight, not even commenting until you’d turned around to make your way over to your office. Only then did he let out a low, salacious whistle when he’d finally caught sight of the back of your uniform.

“Comm me next time yer free, doc. Then I can repay da favor.”

#transformers #valveplug #transformers x reader #rumble #transformers rumble #rumble x reader #transformers imagines #g1 transformers #my writing #long post

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aces-and-angels · 4 months ago

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DONATE TO SHAHED'S FAMILY

dear moots/lovely lurkers:

if you've been online for these last few weeks- you may have noticed how often i've been pushing shahed's gfm. her campaign has been verified (source -> no. 224 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet of vetted campaigns). and if y'all haven't had the chance to become acquainted, this is shahed:

shahed is a 21 year old who used to be a student at al-azhar university before the genocide began. with both her parents having taken ill, she is the sole provider for her family right now, including her five siblings, youngest of whom is just a baby. before the war, shahed used to take/share the most beautiful photos. this is one of them (taken from her tumblr @shahednhall | shahed's instagram

with the generous support of friends/strangers alike, shahed has been able to reach over $40K USD, enough to begin evacuating some of her family members (her younger siblings + her father) who are in desperate need of medical care

however, our work is far from over

shahed + her family are 17 strong and they all deserve a chance to live a life worth living. the situation in gaza is beyond catastrophic and grows more dangerous with each passing day. i have been in communication with shahed and would like to share her most recent message to me:

shahed: I have been displaced from my area, my circumstances are very difficult. I can't open the Internet for long periods, so I want you to help me more in publishing my campaign. I want to have reached a very difficult stage. I want to complete the campaign as soon as possible. I want to rest, I feel that I really survived. I don't want my campaign to stop halfway.

just yesterday, shahed shared that she narrowly escaped death while trying to get food/water for her family. the attacks/bombings at her campsite have forced her to move yet again

every displacement puts both a physical and emotional strain on these families. more often than not, there is little warning before they have to move- and when the time comes- they have to act quickly, leaving behind whatever they can't carry on their backs/can't afford to take with them <- yes, it costs money for them to be able to move.

every message i receive fills me with a mixture of relief and heartbreak-- i do not wish to know what i'll feel if i were to stop getting messages from shahed. i can't. not when i know there's a path to get her family to safety

that is why i am starting this donation match for her campaign. i don't have very much to offer, but i know that if enough people contribute a little, it can amount to a lot 🖤

for those able, please consider matching my donation of $5 USD (proof of donation below cut). shahed has a long way to go before she can achieve her goal of $80K. even if you cannot match me at this time (which is totally okay)- please share this post so others may have a chance to help

IMPT NOTE: @journalsforpalestine is raffling a set of beautiful journals. 4 winners will be chosen on August 31st. for anyone interested in entering -> please read the rules here for the first person to reblog & match my donation (and wants to enter in this raffle) i will give you my entry, so you will be entered to win twice* *(every entry= $5, so if you donate more, you will be entered accordingly).

current stats: $42,726 raised of $80,000 goal

tags for reach (sorry yall- please let me know if you wish to be removed from this list- no hard feelings, truly 🖤)

@timetravellingkitty @meaganfoster @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqi @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45 @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @criptochecca

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@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat

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#shahednhall #donation match #free palestine #not choices #🍉#art campaign boost #signal boost

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cherryredstars · 22 days ago

Note

Oh lord wonderful. My love for you has just doubled, you have no idea. May I please request a exes to lovers mid apocalypse sex with Ellie Williams?? Make it hateful I love it when that girl is mean ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ love you lots

Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fingering, "Public" Sex

A/N: Been wanting to write this but didn't have time :(

Unedited

You hate this place.

You never understood why Ellie was so obsessed with the abandoned mall. Everywhere you went, it felt like something was lurking in the dark corners of a trashed store. It made you overly paranoid, and your hand constantly twitched towards your weapon.

"Boo."

You whip around, hand coming up before being grasped firmly by a warm hand. You freeze up, an annoyed exhale parting from your lips as you come face to face with Ellie's freckled face.

"What the fuck, Ellie." You scoff, roughly tugging your hand away from her grip.

Ellie only chuckles, walking past you to scope out a store. "Not my fault you're so fidgety."

You roll your eyes, reluctantly following after her. Trash and random objects thrown to the floor during raiding and panicked evacuations crumble under your shoes. The sound echoes in the hollow area, and you wearily glance over your shoulder. Nothing looks amiss, but it never hurts to be careful.

"God, could you relax? The place is cleared out." Ellie calls back to you.

She's preoccupied with scanning what's left on the shelves. They're remnants of what was popular before the outbreak, all covered with dust and rotted. Sometimes, when you and Ellie were paired on outings together, the two of you would theorize what they were used for or why they were so popular. When clothes were in good enough condition, Ellie would sneak some back for you and have you model them for her. Now, you'd rather get infected before dressing up for her again.

"You never know." You defend, looking back one more time before venturing deeper into the store.

Most of the things here don't catch your interest, all too decayed to really decipher what they were. You walk out from a row of shelves at the same time as Ellie, and you swiftly look away when you make eye contact.

"What are we even doing here, anyways?" You sigh, just loud enough for Ellie to hear as you browse through another aisle. "This place has been raided too many times to have anything good."

"Do you always have to ruin the fun?" Ellie calls back, the sound of her picking up and placing something down reaching your ears.

You make a face at the rusty metal shelves, rolling your eyes as you silently mock her words. You almost bump into Ellie when you exit to the main walkway, and she quickly grabs your elbow to stop you from falling into the shelf. You grumble, shaking her off again as you walk over to a counter with an empty register. You hoist yourself up, wiping the dust sticking to your hands on your pants.

"I don't understand why you like this place so much," You remark, tilting your head at Ellie as she makes her way over to you.

You expect her to sit besides you if anything, but her hands find their way to either side of your body as she cages you in. The position is intimate, and it reminds you of all the other times your quests were delayed due to stolen moments reserved for just you two. Your eyes trail to her chapped lips, and you hold your breath for a moment before meeting her eyes again.

She has that annoying know-it-all look in her eyes, and you've always been stuck in a limbo of wanting to punch her in the face and kissing her every time she flashes you with it. As if sensing your thoughts, Ellie leans her face closer to yours. You can feel the suffocating warmth of her exhales ghost over your skin, and your lips part slightly as you continue to hold eye contact.

"Sentimental value." Ellie whispers in response to your question.

You can feel her hand creeping closer to your thigh, her pinkie brushing against the covered skin. You try to hide the way your breath hitches and your leg tenses, your thighs pressing closer together to escape her touch. You start to lean your head back, desperate for some personal space, but Ellie's other hand quickly grabs the back of your neck to keep you in place.

"Careful, you might fall back." Ellie jokes, pulling your head back towards her.

You can feel her lips brushing against your own with each of her words. The dry skin catches on your lips, and your eyes fall to them. Ellie seems to be doing the same, a small smile twitching at the side of her lips as your tongue brushes against her mouth as you go to lick your lips. Her thumb brushes over the pulse point in your neck, and you know she can feel the way it jumps.

"What's got you so nervous?" She teases, "Scared a monster will getcha?"

Before you can respond, Ellie silences you with a slow kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, exhaling through your nose as you slowly move your lips to match hers. You can practically feel the way her brows furrow, her tongue licking at the seams of your lips as her hand near your thigh slowly brushes up the side of it. She swallows the gasp you let out effortlessly as she squeezes the fat of it, grasp firm as she slowly pulls it away to part your legs. Despite the buzzing bliss swarming in your head, your hands land on her shoulders and you roughly pull her away.

"We can't-" You choke, locking your elbows when she tries to push against your hold. "There might be Infected-"

Ellie groans, pushing hard enough against your hands that they break away. She almost topples into you from the force she extorts, but she's quick to catch herself.

"I told you the coast was clear." She scoffs, roughly tugging you back into a kiss. It's messier than the earlier one, clearly fueled with annoyance. "You never fucking listen when I speak."

You moan against her lips, melting into her as she continues where she left off. Her fingers skim over the seam running down your crotch, and your body bucks into it. Ellie huffs against your lips, a proud smirk disrupting your kiss. Her fingers trail higher up until they reach the button of your jeans, fingers skilled as they flick it open and reach for your zipper. The sound of the zipper scraping against the teeth echoes in the small space between the two of you. Ellie groans when she feels you place all your weight against the counter, making it impossible to pull your pants down.

"It's gross here." You comment, breathing heavily. Your lips are puffy from her kissing, and saliva makes them shiny.

"So is everywhere else in the world." Ellie tsks, tugging at your pants. "Want me to take you against a wall instead?"

You huff, lifting your hips as Ellie begins to pull them down just far enough to get access to your underwear. Her fingers skim over the dampening fabric, eyes trained on it. You shiver when the cold air brushes against your skin, and you exhale slowly when Ellie's fingers ghost over your inner thigh. Your eyes fall to watch her, but you quickly scrunch up your nose.

"Ellie, you're hands are disgusting." You sneer, catching sight of the dirt clinging under her nails and crusting over her palms.

Ellie groans, slapping the hand from around your neck over her mouth. An annoyed tick scrunches the space between her brows and she glares at you. "Don't you ever shut up? If you care so much, you can lick them clean."

She rolls her eyes at the disgusted look that casts over your eyes, and she pinches your cheeks together and gives them a small wag. "Then be quiet."

Your breath hitches under her hand as her fingers slowly pull your underwear to the side. Your cunt is dripping and glossy despite all the lame excuses you've used to delay her. Ellie admires it for a second, watching the way you pulse from her attention before running a finger over your slick. She can feel the warmth of your gasp against the crevices of her palm, mimicking the warmth of your wet folds. Your hips buckle into her touch, and Ellie chuckles at your desperation. Her finger dips into your small hole, moaning at the way you instantly suck her in.

"God," Ellie mumbles, eyes trained on the arousal dribbling down her finger. "So needy."

You mumble something against her palm, closely resembling the tone of a rebuttal. Ellie quickly shuts it up by forcing another finger inside of you, your walls clenching quickly around the new thickness. Her fingers curl into you, pressing into the gummy walls of your cunt. They squelch from the wetness, the sound echoing in the quietness of the mall. Your moans escalate in volume despite being muffled, and Ellie groans as your walls flutter violently against her fingers.

"That's it, let it out." She coos, her fingers spearing into your soft spot until you spasm.

You fall slack against her, her hand falling away to cradle you as you mewl into her shoulder. Your body shakes against her, and Ellie pets your hair as you come down from your high. When your muscles finally feel solid again, you slowly push yourself off of her and take a deep breath. Your face scrunches as Ellie takes her wet fingers into her mouth, cleaning them off. You turn your head away, sliding off of the counter and pulling your pants back up.

"You're fucking disgusting."

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lou-struck · 3 months ago

Text

Time to Cool Off

Osamu Miya x reader

~ Osamu knows that a busy dinner rush can make even the most experienced workers run hot. That’s where you come in.

W.c: 1.9k

Warnings: Karens, Swearing, The Service Industry

a/n: This one goes out to everyone who has ever had to cry in the walk in (I know I have)

It's one of those cool summer evenings where the sun has been hidden behind the clouds for what seems like hours. The pavement is no longer warm as you stroll down the familiar sidewalk path to your favorite spot in the city.

Like every other Friday night, Onigiri Miya is absolutely packed. Seeing your fiancé's restaurant succeed fills your heart with joy, but this is ridiculous. By the time you manage to squeeze yourself into the waiting area by the front counter, you cannot tell what customers are in line waiting to order and what customers are standing by waiting for their food. Even the dining area is at capacity as servers are frantically running around trying to take care of their many tables.

Through the chaos, however, you do see that there is a bit of organization with the staff, who are more than used to a busy evening.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see an outstretched arm swinging towards you. Dodging throws you a bit off balance. But at least you managed to avoid receiving an accidental black eye from the woman in front of you.

"This is insane," you mumble to yourself. It's not safe for you to be standing in such a large crowd of hungry people. You eye the stainless steel kitchen doors and zero in on your Target. Osamu is in there, along with a plethora of personal space for you to enjoy.

You weave through the crowd of customers gently. Avoiding all sorts of outstretched arms, legs, purses, and those dangling wallet keychain thingies like you are fresh out of the matrix. You're almost free when a large hairy arm stretches out in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn and see a middle-aged man glaring at you, an irritated expression on his face as he looks you over. "Oi, who do ya think ya are cutting in line."

You shoot him an apologetic look and raise your hands innocently. "Oh, I'm not putting in an order; I'm just heading back to the kitchen to~."

He cuts you off with a venomous look in his cold, dark gaze. This gentleman is clearly past the point of hangriness and now evolving into a full-blown Karen. "Likely story," he spits, reaching for your wrist. "But I don't think so~"

A familiar-looking body steps in between the two of you, and you take a slight step back. "I wouldn't touch them if I were you," your future brother-in-law says with a smile. The friendly face comforts you, and you flash him a thankful smile.

Atsumu may have is hands full with his volleyball career, but he still tries to make time to help out at Osamu's restaurant whenever he has a chance. Unlike his (slightly better-looking) brother, the setter is a klutz in the kitchen, so he is usually confined to the front-of-house duties such as ringing in take-out orders or seating parties.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" He quips, not realizing he is vaguely threatening a professional athlete.

The faux-blonde man with almost the same face as your fiance grins and rolls up his sleeves, nonchalantly revealing the product of years of hard work, his biceps.

Karen dude pales in fear as he becomes aware that he has bit off far more than he can chew and takes a frightened step back, nearly knocking over another customer in the process. "Whatever, I'm leaving. I'm sure I can find some better stuff to eat than this place." He spits, turning heel and scampering away with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

With the troublesome customer gone, you breathe a sigh of relief and turn your attention to Atsumu.

"Thank you for stepping in; I'd hate to think what your brother would've done if he had to deal with serving that asshole." You smile, glancing just beyond the counter and see that the restaurant is even more packed than you thought it was. "It's crazy busy tonight, isn't it?"

At your comment, he lets out a long sigh, "Ya have no Idea. I was just bored at home, so I came in to make some just came in to help out since he was bored at home, but if he knew how crazy things were gonna be, he would've just stayed away."

"Is Samu in the back?" you ask worriedly; these crazy dinner rushes are a lot for anyone to handle, especially someone as passionate and thorough as he is.

Atsumu's eyes widen a bit as he nervously glances back toward the kitchen with a gulp. "Well…Samu is struggling a bit tonight."

"Oh, I see…" you frown, and your body moves toward the kitchen unconsciously. "I better go check on him."

You push open the door, and a rice ball misses your head by an inch. You are too scared to scream as you watch it splatter against the door. Your eyes widen as your head snaps to the source of your assault to see Osamu, you're handsome, loving fiancé, having an irritated conversation with a waitress.

"What do ya mean her onigiri is the wrong shape? It looks the same as the hundreds of others that have passed by her table tonight."

"That's just what she said, sir," the waiter huffs. And you feel his pain; people are crazy tonight.

Osamu just sighs and turns toward the countertop to make a new riceball. A clean hand plunges into a pot of still-steaming rice and pulls out a handful. You wince as he frustratedly shapes a new ball, but the tension is running so high he doesn't even flinch from the pain. He prepares it in his usual practiced motions and sets it down on a new plate to hand to the now-sunned server.

"Give 'em this one. And if they have anything else to say, jus grab me, don't waste yer time talkin to these idiots." he sighs as the waiter goes on their way.

They slip past you in the doorway, and Osamu finally notices that you are here, in his kitchen. His tired eyes light up a bit as his lips curve upwards in a weary smile. His broad shoulders slacken as you step into his open embrace and he holds you tightly.

He smells a bit like smoke and onions, but you don't care at all; he needs this hug. "Busy night?'

"You have no idea," he murmurs, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. "Is it a full moon t'night cause people are actin crazy?"

"Actually, that would explain a lot," you mumble, reaching into your back pocket to grab your phone. When you check your weather app, your face falls, and you flash him the screen, illuminated with a big, blue supermoon."

"Well, shit. What the hell is a supermoon?" he grumbles. His strong face looking adorable in his exasperated little pouting situation he has going on.

"I guess it's like a full moon but more super." you chuckle, patting his back. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Jus keep me company," he smiles, "Ya do more than enough as is."

Although his words are sweet, you aren't buying any of it. This isn't your first time working at his restaurant, and it certainly won't be the last. With a quick wash of your hands, you turn your attention over to the to-go orders. There are several that are completed and waiting to be packed up and sent out.

Osamu sees you already hard at work and lets out a chuckle, "What would I do without cha'?"

"Suffer." you tease, boxing up another order.

The two of you get into a steady rhythm; he works his way through the mountain of tickets, and you box up the ones that you need to. Everything is going great until you are interrupted by a frazzled looking Atsumu.

"Hey Samu. I got a coupon here that won't work; what should I do with it?"

Osamu's head snaps toward his brother with lighting fast quickness.

"What coupon?" he asks, taking the piece of paper from his brother's outstretched hand. As he reads the paper, you see his body go rigid. And you place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"TSUMU, THIS IS A COUPON FOR 25% OFF A BUSHEL OF YARN DOWN AT THE CRAFT STORE! WHY DID YA THINK I WOULD ACCEPT THIS?" he snaps. "ARE YA AN IDIOT?"

Atsumu's eyes turn glassy as he takes the paper back from his brother. "B-but the lady said it worked for her last time."

Osamu sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "No, it didn't,"

"But the customers.." he starts to say and you feel your body tense up as he begins that dreaded slogan.

"Can be idiots," Osamu finishes. "Jus give the lady her coupon back and tell her that the only coupons he will accept are the ones printed for this restaurant."

Atsumu frowns and walks back into the dining room, armed with the knowledge that the customer is not always right. In fact, sometimes they are just idiots. As Osamu slumps back over to his workstation, he accidentally knocks a frying pan off the counter.

It hits the ground with a deafening clatter, and he completely loses his shit.

This is the Straw that broke the camel's back.

"Goddammit," he grunts, kicking the fallen pan across the room with all his might as he returns to furiously start chopping vegetables.

Angry chopping is never a good idea, so you gently grab his arm to still his movement before he loses a finger or worse.

"What are ya doin babe?" He asks, looking up at you with a mixture of confusion and a bit of despair.

"You need to go and cool off before you hurt yourself," you say calmly.

"I-i can't jus take a break; i-its the dinner rush." he stammers in disbelief as you pry the kitchen knife from his grasp and tug him into the walk-in freezer.

"Don't care," you reply, yanking open the large door. Your hand comes to rest on his chest, and you feel the ferocity of his heartbeat through the muscles of his tig ol biddies and shove him into the cold room before he can react.

Shutting the door behind you, you only need to wait a few seconds before you begin to hear him scream out muffled profanities. He continues this little screaming fest for a few minutes as you wander about the kitchen, making sure that none of the food he has been cooking burns.

It's not cruel, it's necessary. If Osamu is going to finish this shift in one piece, he needs a moment to himself to just cool off and collect his thoughts.

Suddenly, the canary is no longer singing.

Cautiously, you open the door and see a slightly chilly-looking Osamu staring back at you. His gray eyes are filled with warmth as he steps out of the freezer and wraps his arms around you. You squirm from the sensation, and he smirks, his good humor still intact.

"Feeling better?" you ask, shivering as his cold hands send goosebumps up your spine.

"Much better," he breathes, pressing his cold lips to your much warmer ones. "I really needed that."

Tagging: @sleepyyshroom, @isaacdaknight @qardasngan

#haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#osamu miya #haikyuu #Osamu Miya x reader #x reader #hq x reader

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hidden-poet · 2 months ago

Text

Animal

Synopsis: After visiting a bathhouse Logan meets you, and the animal within him starts clawing out.

Warnings: not canon, dark!, non-con, a little bit of romantisation of things that should not be romanticized, kidnapping, Dark!logan(jimmy? james?), dom/sub vibes, spanking, female reader who is described quite a bit, rough sex, graphic sex, basically born with little plot, unedited and written in a couple of hours, dead dove to not eat.

AN: Something awoken within me. I never really cared for Wolverine, but suddenly I am binging all the movies. I don't really understand them so this will definitely not make sense to those who follow the fandom.

Word count: 12, 418

Logan walks through the city. People part as he storms through the path. Hearing the sound of his heavy boots as they thud against the concrete.

If his large frame wasn’t enough to warn off people, his scowl was. He didn’t even know what city he was in. Xavier sends him off to eliminate out of control mutants. Given the urgency, he is often sent without a goodbye, let alone a debrief.

He knew he was somewhere foreign. All the signs were in a different language with the english translation printed small underneath.

One of them read ‘bathhouse’ in bright red neon sign. He looks at the dirt caked under his nails. The final battle with the latest mutant took place in the forest.

He could feel small leaves in his hair, and dried mud clinging to his body.

A nice, hot, relaxing bath may elevate some of the tension he always carried with him, so he walks up the steps into the large stone building.

A lady in a robe greets him. The place is dark, only lit by a few strategically placed lamps. The front counter is placed in the entryway to the baths, and is sectioned by a large maroon colored wall that offers the men bathing privacy.

“How can I help you?” the woman asks.

“I’d like a bath”, he responds. His eyes go to view the bath that beckons him.

“Communal or private?”.

Logan looks around at the men in towels, lounging by the large pool. An elderly man takes off his towel to reveal nothing underneath, and steps into the steaming water.

“Private”, Logan answers, “please”.

She gives him a sly smile, asking him to follow her.

He is brought along the pool where men swam nude, and women who wore thick robes served them drinks, and cigars.

At the back of the communal bathing area there was a long stretch of red doors that were numbered in large golden letters. He follows her to door seven

The woman knocks on the door once before turning back to logan.

“Just through this door when you are ready”. With a sly smile she looks him up and down before returning to her hosting station.

“Ah-yeah, thanks”, he comments.

Muttering under his breath, he twists the door knob and takes a step inside, wanting nothing more than to wash away his adventure.

His hand clinches the door knob, his claws begging to come out upon hearing someone on the other side.

Had someone been following him? Another mutant, buddies with the one he had killed?

He lunges through the door, ready to face anyone willing. It startles him when he sees a young girl.

Your hair was blown out to give it volume, and styled in an effortlessly curled way. Your dress was short and black. The halter neck tied together behind your long neck, and was cut down to the middle of your chest. The thin material only reached your upper thigh. Your lipstick was a dark red, matching your pointed shoes. You looked ready for a club, not a bath.

You push yourself back into a chest of draws, surprised at his entrance.

“shit”, Logan turns from you, training his eyes to the ground. It felt wrong to look at you. “Sorry, i was told to come in here”.

“You were told correctly”, you state, “I am ready for you”.

Your voice was low and seductive, making Logan hard under his jeans.

“Ready for me?” Logan questions. He feels his brows furrow, the sweat that he had accumulated started to run down his forehead.

“This is a bathhouse”,you state, “You got a private room. You get bathed in private rooms”.

You seemed as confused as he was.

He looks at you stunned. His cock ached in his jeans to think of you bathing him. But you were young. Young, pretty, and naive. What were you doing here, giving baths to dirty old men like him. He couldn’t have it. Couldn’t be a part of it.

His other side begged him to have a bath, and enjoy your touch, but he didn’t want to do anything that he would regret. The animal side of him was hard to contain. He was sure you would pull the wrong string, and the restraint he had built would come undone.

He couldn’t even bring himself to bid you goodbye. All his will power went to turning back to the door.

“Wait” you call out. He freezes immediately, and looks over his shoulder at you.

“Is there something wrong with me?” you ask. His heart sunk at your question. He didn’t mean to offend you.

“Am I not desirable enough for you?”, you continue.

“God, no” he states, shutting the door firmly behind him as he turns. He didn’t want anyone passing to see you through the door. “No, you’re anything but undesirable”.

You blush but remain in your seductive composure. Your hand waves him forward, and his feet shuffle to your command.

“Well then stay. If they see you walk out, i’ll get in trouble. Men start walking out of my bathhouse, and they might turf me”, you state.

“Look, baby, I am just looking for a bath,” you eye the water so he continues to explain, “a bath alone. Without the help of a young woman, no matter how they look”.

“You don’t seem the nervous kind”, you provoke.

“I ain’t” he defends.

“How about this, I won’t look”. You spin around and face the wall, covering your eyes with your hand. “You can take a bath without my help, and I won’t get fired. Win, win”.

He thinks about it. With you facing away, and not touching him, what harm could be done? He would be doing you a favor.

“You sure you can restrain yourself?” he flirts.

Your giggle echoes off the wall to his ear.

“I am sure”.

Logan strips, leaving his clothes on the tiled floor, and entering the marble tub centered in the room. The water is steaming, and works to unknot his mussels.

He moans as he sinks into the water.

“Feel good?”, you ask.

His cock twitches at your words. He struggles to keep his voice even as he answers.

“Yeah”.

“I am y/n”, you comment, bringing your hand down to face the red wall.

“Is that your real name?”, he asks. He shouldn’t care what your real name was, but he did.

“Yeah”, you respond. He listens for your heart beat as you answer. It never falters so it was the truth, or a lie that had become the truth. Either way it was good enough for him.

“Logan”, he gives.

“In town for business or pleasure, Logan?”, you ask.

Your butt was three inches from the bottom of your dress. It curved around the material. Logan wanted to jump up from the water, and bite into it.

“Business” he answered absentmindedly. He forces himself to look away and up to the ceiling.

Your heartbeat was even. You weren’t scared of him. It comforted him to know.

“What do you do?”. The question irked him.

“Nothing good”, he spat.

You let out a breathy laugh as if he had told a bad joke.

“Men who do ‘nothing good’ aren’t afraid of young women in bathhouses”, you jest.

“Well I suppose I do bad things for a good cause”, he admits.

Although it never felt like a good cause. Only some of the mutants he killed deserved it. Most of them were only confused and scared. They were too dangerous to be allowed a second chance at reasoning. Like a wild dog, they had to be put down.

It would have made Logan feel better if he didn’t enjoy the fight.

“What bad things for a good cause?”.

Logan slides further into the water, trying to shield himself from your questioning.

‘Is this a bathhouse or a police station?” he bit. His voice was hard, and carried a commanding tone that made your heart skip.

He wanted to apologize, but you beat him to it.

“I am sorry. I am not used to talking to the clients. I overstepped”, you confess.

“Have you worked here long?”.

He wanted to turn the attention back on you, but he chose the wrong path. The last thing he wanted to hear was you admitting to washing men.

The image of you bathing other old men angered him. His claws dug through the bones in his hand, itching to come to the surface.

“A year”. It seemed like you were content in your workplace, but Logan fights to keep his claws under his skin. He splashed his hands under the water, worried that you would turn and see him in his mutated state.

You shuffle slightly, angling yourself so you were always turned to him. You move off the wall, back over to the door. Logan watches you, his body shifting to hide himself if you decide to look. His member was hard under the clear water. He didn’t want you to think he was some sort of pervert.

“Hey”, he calls, watching you move to pick up his clothes. Your hand shielded your eyes to him in the tub, “What are you doing?”.

You separate his room key, wallet from his jean pocket and place them next to his shoes before picking up his clothes, and turning your back once more. Moving to the far wall where a washer and dryer were stored under a sink.

“It’s part of the service. I wash your clothes for you”, you state.

“Just leave them” he commands, “they are fine”.

You ignore him, throwing the clothes in the machine, and starting the cycle.

“You’re paying for it”.

You crouch in your high heels as you dispense the detergent into the washing machine on the floor before rising back up, but you don’t turn. Talking to him through the shared space rather than at him.

“Do you mind if I sit at the vanity?”, you ask him.

“No. Sit where you are comfortable”.

Your eyes train at the walls of the room as you slide along to the vanity set in the corner. You stop just before you get to the mirror, and kick off your heels so you could drag the seat with your foot over to you. You sat facing the wall like a child on time-out.

He notices without your shoes, you were quite small. A small, pretty thing in a house of old men who wouldn’t need to be twice your size to overpower you. It didn’t sit right with logan.

“So, how did you end up here?” he asks.

“What this, a bath house or a police station”, you joke.

He stifles a laugh. He didn’t mind a bit of cheek.

“Fair enough’’, he relents, “Just tell me if any of these old guys ever caused you any trouble?”.

Just as he claws retreat, they shoot back again. If your answer was yes, he was going to find out who, and where after his bath.

But you shake your head no.

“We have a button that calls for help. As soon as I get a bad feeling I press the button and they are thrown out”.

You were intuitive like him. He wondered if it was a survival technique you were forced to pick up. He wanted to know why, but knew it was none of his business.

Instead, he picks up a cloth and runs the cooling water over his skin. He was right, mud stuck to his chest hairs, along with dried blood.

“You, uh, press that button a lot?” he pries.

“Enough times to know when I should”. Your voice had lost its seductive tone as it hardened.

“Maybe you should quit. Do something else”, he suggests.

He would love for you to do something else. Something outside of harm's way. You were a grown woman who could decide what she wanted. He had no right to tell you what to do, but he wanted you to listen to him.

“Only one of us hates their job”.

“You like this?”, his voice came out too angry. Your heart skipped another beat as he raised his voice at you.

“You like touching dirty old men? Help them get off?”, he bites his tongue to the point of blood to stop himself talking to you this way.

“No one gets off. I bathe them and send them on their way. Most of them are just lonely”.

“Lonely”, Logan scoffs, pushing the water away from him. But you were right. Logan was lonely. A dirty, old, lonely man wanting to taste your young flesh.

How many other dirty, old, lonely men wanted to do the same? How many times would you be able to get to the button to press for help before it was too late?

He wanted to protect you. To have his place in protecting you. Something about you drew him in. The animal called for him to throw you over his shoulder, and take you from his place in all his stark naked glory. But you were no one to him. He had only met you by mistake five minutes ago.

Your heart rate was too fast. He had succeeded in scaring you. If his clothes weren’t washing, he was sure you would have kicked him out.

He sighs, bringing his hands to the side of the tub.

“Darl, I am sorry. I just hate to think of a pretty young thing like you here without anyone looking out for you”.

“I look out for me, Logan”, you declare.

He nods his head, almost in disbelief. He rests the back of his head against the hard marble, causing the water to swish as he moves.

“There’s shampoo on the caddy. You should wash your hair. I noticed that some of it was stuck together”, you comment.

He was thrown across the forest floor just last night. He must have taken a harder hit than he realized.

“I can do it if you want?”, you offer.

“No. No. You stay right there” he demands. His hands itched to pull you in the bathtub with him. He wanted you to stay as far away as possible.

As he squirts the small bottle of shampoo into his hands, the washing machine rings out a tune to signal it was done.

“I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer” you declare.

He watches as you move again over to the machine, and kneel to transfer the clothes into the dryer.

Your bare feet make a nice sound against the tiles. Logan notices that your little toes were painted a dark red, and your fingers were perfectly shaped and painted the same color.

He supposed a woman of your profession, maintenance was important. He pretended for a second that wasn’t the case. That instead, you were his little woman.

He had come home after a long day of lumberjacking like he used to do, and you were fussing over him. The thought remained only for a second before he shook it off.

Everyone he loved died. A little thing like you didn’t stand a chance in his life.

“I hope you like the scent of vanilla”, you remark.

He grunts in response, dipping under the water to wash the shampoo out of his hair. It felt lighter as a rose from the water. It was due for a good wash.

He begins with a conditioner while he watches you lean against the counter of the sink instead of returning to your seat. His fingers dug into his scalp, pushing the liquid into his hair.

“Do you have a girlfriend? Is that why you don’t want me to look?”, you ask.

“No girlfriend. No wife. No dog”, he washes the soap from his hands, “I honestly didn’t know what I was signing up for”.

“Are you glad you signed up for it?”, your seductive tone returned from its disappearance.

“The view has been nice”, he returns.

“If you like my back, you should my front”.

His hands curled into fists. If anything had been in his hands, it would have been snapped in two.

“If i see your front, you might not see the light of day again”.

His eyes shut in rhythm with your heart skipping.

“Fuck. no. I didn’t mean” he began to justify but had nowhere to go. He had meant what he said, the way he said it.

“All this talk of protection from dirty, old men. Did you mean you?”.

Your voice didn’t sound scared, but your heart beat faster than it had all night.

Logan rises from the tub with conditioner still weighing down his hair.

“Look, how long until my clothes are ready?”.

“Ten minutes”, you answer.

He couldn’t wait ten minutes. He had to leave now.

“Just give them to me”, he demands.

“There's still ten minutes”, you complain.

“Give them to me, now!” his voice rose at you once more.

You jump as he yelled at you, quickly moving to pull the wet clothes from the machine and throw them backwards towards him.

They don’t go far enough from you and Logan is forced to get too close for his liking to dress himself.

He pulls his wet shirt on himself, the long sleeves stick to his skin as he yanks it on.

“Keep facing forward. Don’t turn around”, he orders.

“But” you begin. He can see you slow movement to turn around so he gently shoves you in the right direction.

“Listen to me. Face the wall”. His voice was angry again, commanding you to stay still.

The jeans didn’t want to go on wet. With his harsh, and quick movements it felt like he was in a fight. He does eventually get them on, only bothering to do up his button and not his zip.

He doesn’t bother putting on his socks. Keeping them in his hand while he picks up his wallet, shoes, and keys from the floor.

The jiggling of the keys gives way to his plan of escape.

“You still have fifteen minutes”, you state not moving from your position on the wall.

He wondered why you cared that he was leaving early. Did you not want him to get away from you? Or where you wondered about his reaction if he found out he was cut short?

“It doesn’t matter”, he barks as he makes a quick bee line to the door.

He pauses once he reaches it. The water pools at his feet as he turns to look at you once more.

“I am sorry” he comments.

He races back down towards the door he came in through. Everybody stares at his dripping state. Some men laugh quietly among themselves. He could still hear your elevated heart beat in room seven.

“Hey! Hey!” a voice calls behind him.

In his agitated state he was ready to rip their head off. He turns to do it to see the lady who greeted him.

“You still pay full price”, she demands.

“Huh? Yeah”. He steamrolled over her to the counter, pulling out his wallet.

His focus turns to the hallway expecting you to appear, but from what he could see your door never opened.

He taps his bank card without looking at the price. Xavier kept him comfortable for his work.

He leaves without approval, bumping back into the crowd of people as he makes his way back on the path.

Soaking wet, and barefoot, he makes his way back to his small apartment.

His claws dig underneath his skin, wanting to come out despite there being no threat. He fails to make it to the bed, laying on the carpet floor instead.

Your name repeats in his mind.

—---------------------------

He tries to forget you for the next three days. He was supposed to be back by now, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

Xavier called him every hour to be sent straight to voicemail.

Logan walked the city, often finding himself walking along the front of the bathhouse. He never goes in, but listens for your voice, and breathes deep to smell your faint scent.

You didn’t talk much to your clients. A few flirty comments when they first arrived, but then silence as you completed your work.

You didn’t talk to them like you talked to him, and that had to mean something.

The worst part was not knowing exactly what you were doing. He loved to hear the beeping of the machine as you pressed the buttons, because at least that meant you weren’t touching them.

Even in his best efforts he couldn’t manage to walk away. He knows he should. There were plenty of other mutants that needed to be put down.

He should continue with his life, and you yours.

He couldn’t keep you. He could barely keep the kids at the mansion alive, and they all had powers to protect themselves.

He would be throwing you in the line of fire. A fire that he might not be able to protect you from.

You would grow old too. Unless he could figure out a way to keep you young. Could Xavier know of a way? He was sure that he could protect you from everything but time. He would need some help. A connection to someone who could slow down time in adjacent to him.

He grunts as he drives his claw into his right thigh. He lets out a painful laugh as he pounds his fist into the brink building he was hiding behind.

The brick crumbled under his fist. A reminder of what he could do to you without even intending it. He would only need to make a mistake once.

He was worried about protecting you from others, when he should have been worried about protecting you from him.

He was no good for you, even if you would be very good for him. He was destined to live out his life alone. A punishment for his ability.

Maybe a goodbye would help him. If he could leave you with a nice impression instead of an old, dirty man, maybe he could leave.

He crosses the sea of people to the steps of the building. He could hear you as you said goodbye to your client, and drained the water from the tub.

He waits by the bottom of the step until the man came down and passed him before entering.

Was this a place where you made appointments? How long would he have to wait to see you again? He wondered.

It was a different lady at the counter which alleviated some of Logan's anxiety.

She greets him in the same manner as the other lady.

“I was after a private bath with y/n. Would she be available?”.

The woman looks at her computer before smiling up at him.

“You’re in luck. She just finished up. Follow me”.

Logan wished he dressed nicer. Put on some cologne, brushed his hair.

Your scent became stronger the closer he got, it seemed to ease his nerves.

The women knocks three times on the door, and Logan's hand goes to reach for the knob prematurely.

“Just a second”, you call out.

“She won’t be long”, the woman addresses Logan, who drops his hand away.

With a nod and a smile the woman returns to her desk, and Logan waits by the door for you. He ran over what he was going to say, but when you swung the door open he had forgotten his opening line.

“I never expected to see you again” you state.

“Me either”, he responds.

To his surprise you step back from the door to allow him in. He quickly takes the invite, shutting the door behind him.

You were dressed in another black dress. This one had thick straps and an appropriate neckline but an open back that scooped down as far as possible.

“I wanted to apologize”, he expresses.

You tested the running water with your hand as you listened to him.

“You are far from my worst customer”, you revel.

You don’t look at him as you add bubbles to the bath.

“Still, what I said” Logan pauses under your stare before continuing, “What i did was uncalled for”.

You smile a pretty smile at him almost as if you were laughing at him.

“Well, you’re forgiven. Now did you want me to face the wall again?”, you ask.

Logan twists on his spot. “I ain’t looking for a bath. Just to apologize”.

“Have one” you insist.

You walk over to him, taking his belt into your hands. He catches your wrist to stop you from taking it off.

“You got me in trouble last time”, you tell him, “You’re not supposed to walk out scared and wet. If you walk out now in less than a minute they’ll wonder what I did”.

“Well I owe you two apologies”, he states.

“If you're looking to apologize, get in the tub”.

He feels you pull out of his hold, and he lets you make distance so you could spin around.

His self-restraint wasn’t that strong so he rids himself of his clothes and hides under the bubbles in the tub.

Hearing the water splash, you turn to him.

With the weight of his adamantium bones the water rises to the top and you quickly go to turn off the tap.

You kick off your shoes, leaving them at the faucet and walk back up to the top of the tub.

“I can’t see anything”, you console as you kneel down beside him.

He reaches his hand out to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re a world of hurt for me, bub”.

“Your world only lasts fifty minutes”, you tease.

You move out of his touch to go behind him. Your small fingers squeeze his big shoulders. He relaxes under your touch as you work your way along his shoulders to his neck and back.

“Feels good, bub” he praises.

“Feels good?” you repeat.

Your hands trail down his chest, reaching for the top of the water. His hands catch yours before they could immerse under.

“Don’t” he warns.

“Okay. I am sorry” you apologize, tugging your hands free and back up to his neck, “I’ll stay above water”.

He found it hard to relax again. He felt vulnerable, naked under your touch. It would be better if you too were naked. It would make it less embarrassing when you realized he was hard under the water.

“I’ll put your clothes in the wash” you say.

He reaches out behind him for you to stop you moving away.

“No. Keep going”, he protests.

You don’t go to move again. Your fingers continue to massage him until he relaxes once more.

Only then do you stop to reach for the shampoo bottle in front of him. You squirt it into your hands, and then massage it into his head.

He falls back against the tub, loving the feeling of your hands twisting in his hair.

You do it for longer than necessary seeing that he liked it.

Your fingers roll in a circle on the side of his head, causing him to groan at the feeling.

His claws push up, moving the bones of his hands. It was painful every time but Logan had gotten used to the feeling. He flexes his fingers in an attempt to dissuade them from coming through.

You must have noticed the grimace on his face as he forces the metal back into his hand because you stop massaging and reach for the cup to rinse his hair.

You’re careful not to get it into his eyes, smoothing back the hair as the water and soap runs off. He could see why men pay for this.

He takes your hand not holding the cup and forces it against his cheek as he lays back. With his eyes closed he breathes softly against your skin.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

“I am worried I’ll never be okay again”, he admits.

“You’re tough. I can see it” you flip your hand so your palm is pressed against his cheek, “You’ll be okay”.

You drop the cup next to him, and reach for the conditioner. He is grateful that you allow him to rest against your hand as you massage it into his head.

You try your best to get his whole head but his position made it difficult.

"You know you don’t have a scar over you”, you mention.

“Soft living’”, he jokes, although it was only funny to him.

As you leave the conditioner to soak, you pick up a clean rag and begin to scrub his skin.

Disappointment fills him when he feels you trying to release your hand from under him. He could have kept it stuck there but chooses to raise his head.

You lift up his arm and scrub under his armpit, and along his side. Carefully not to scrub any skin under the water.

You move onto the next and he laughs at you.

“The full treatment here”.

You smile back as you continue to work.

“$300 should get you the full treatment”, you utter.

“$300? Christ, that’s a year's worth of cigars”, he remarks.

“You smoke?” you ask him. He feels your hands push him forward so he leans for you to wash his back.

“Like a chimney” he honestly admits, “You get $300 an hour?”.

You were done with his back so he leans against the tub again.

“No” you state as you reach for the cup that had sunken under the water. You stop yourself before your hand goes under. “Would you mind passing me the cup?”.

“Oh yeah”, he remarks, reaching down into the water and bringing up your cup.

You take it from him and begin to rinse his hair.

“No, I make $150 an hour. The house makes half”.

“Still pretty good. Maybe I am in the wrong line of business”, Logan quips playfully.

“Maybe you are” you jest back, “You never did tell me what you did”.

“I told you. Bad things”, he pulls up out of your hold. He didn’t want to tell you what he did. What he was.

“Are you always this tense?” you ask him.

“Yes” was the short, curt reply.

With a final squeeze of your fingers against his neck, you move down to the bottom of the bath. Slowly you reach for his soapy feet that were propped up against the end of the tub. When he doesn’t object, you take it as permission and begin to massage his feet.

His head makes a heavy thud as it falls back into the marble. It had been a long time since he had ever felt this good.

When he hears you begin to speak, he lifts his head back up to have eye contact with you.

“What made you come back?”, you question.

He feels you apply more pressure to his foot as you ask. Something about the question made you nervous.

“You”, he answers honestly, “i didn’t want you to think I was a prick”.

Your lips curve into a smile at him, and Logan feels his heart twist.

“I didn’t think you were a prick”, you say.

“You’d be the first”, he huffs.

Relief floods him. He wanted to ask if you thought he was a dirty, old man but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

No more conversation interrupts the peace. Logan allows himself to relax into the water while you dig your fingers into his flesh. He lets out soft groans to let you know that he appreciated what you were doing.

All too soon, your strong fingers stop pushing into the soft flesh of his foot. His head shoots back up automatically out of his relaxed composure.

His wet hair sticks to his forehead, and the steam from the bath had begun to sweat his skin. He looked like a wild animal, while you looked put together as always.

With your make-up perfectly placed and not a hair out of place. He would love to see you disheveled. A whining mess underneath him as he teased another orgasim from you. But tonight would be the last night he would ever see you.

You would go on, find a nice man to marry and have children to. Die of old age when your time comes.

Logan would go his separate way. Keep living well past what he desired. With no purpose, and dying friends.

You rise from your knees, and he watches you as you retrieve a towel from a warming rack and bring it back over.

With your body half turned to him, you hold out his towel.

“Get out and I’ll dry your hair”, you offer.

He takes the towel, and you walk over to your vanity as he rises from the water and wraps the towel around his waist.

He follows you, taking a seat when you tell him to.

You look at him in the mirror as you plug your hairdryer in. Once you began to maneuver the device around his head, your eyes followed but his remained staring at you in the mirror.

Sitting directly in front of you, he could see the actual size difference. You were half of him if that.

You said you looked out for you, but how would that be possible? You weren’t anything special. Were you a mutant too? Or just a naive little girl who had never faced any real danger.

Maybe it would be best if he were to take you. Danger lurks everywhere. He could take you home. Make sure nothing bad ever happened to you.

The bones in his knuckles separated and the metal began to break skin but as the sound of the hairdryer cut, his claws retracted back in.

He couldn’t take you. He was old enough to be your great grandfather. What had happened to him that he was thinking these thoughts? Has loneliness finally caught up with him after a century of being alive?

Your fingers snake up through his hair again, itching his scalp and the thoughts of taking you returned.

“There, all dry” you state.

The sound of a timer goes off, startling Logan who was expecting something wrong from the sudden noise.

“That’s our five minute warning” you tell him.

The forty-five minutes went too quickly. He would never see you again, or at least he had promised himself he would never see you again.

You gather his clothes for him and throw them over a blind.

“You can get dressed behind that”.

He nods his head. Moving quickly to cover himself again.

These thoughts were relentless telling him not to go. She couldn’t stop you from staying, no one could. His conscience told him. But he needed to leave your presence before he did something he couldn’t just apologize for.

Maybe some distance would help. He had been away from home too long. He just needed to return home and live comfortably for a while. Focus on the kids at school.

He makes sure his jeans were properly done up, and that his shirt and jacket were the right way before returning from behind the blind.

You were by the vanity chair, back on your knees with his shoes next to you.

You smile at him and pat the chair. Telling him without words to come to you.

He follows your request sitting down in front of you. You came up to his thigh in height.

“I can do it” he states.

“Full service” you reply.

He feels the wood of the chair cracking under his hands so he moves it to the top of his thigh in a tight ball.

You’re gentle as you place the socks on his feet, followed by his shoes. You even do up the laces for him despite the end timer going off two minutes prior.

You rise from the floor, taking his hand to lead him to the door.

“Will I see you again?” you ask him.

“No” he promises but taking another look at you, he wonders if he can follow through.

“Well, goodbye then, Logan”, you gently say.

“Goodbye, y/n” he returns.

He tears himself away from your door, walking the same quick pace back to the front counter where he throws his card on the desk and pushes his way back into the busy street.

His instinct told him to go back, he had to fight against it the whole way home.

—--------------------

He thought distance was the answer, but his heart ached to go get you. No amount of alcohol or pills satisfied it.

Everyone knew something was wrong. He got sick of everyone asking him what happened on his trip. If he was okay. If he wanted to talk.

He had gotten more aggressive than usual. Things that he could normally brush off, now end with someone pinned against the wall by their throat.

Xavier tried his best to get into Logan's head but his resolve would not soften. No one would understand how he felt. No one would justify the measures he was willing to go.

He booked a flight only a month later. Every day was spent thinking of you until he broke. He was a hero. Saved people daily. What was one life if it meant he was able to save countless others.

He books a room, the closest and cheapest to the bathhouse. He could smell you from here now that he had locked onto your scent.

The old bed creaked under his weight as he struggled with himself. With his head in his hands, he grumbled to himself.

He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be thinking these things to himself. It wasn’t too late to turn around. Nothing had been done that couldn’t be undone.

But then he heard it. Your sweet voice welcoming a man into your door. His feet took off before he could stop them. It was only a short distance of a block to the bathhouse.

The street was busy no matter the time of day, but much like when he first walked down it people parted to let him through.

When he grips the door knob it shatters underneath his hand. So he is more gentle when he pushes the door open.

A new woman greets him cautiously but he ignores her going straight to your room. The woman yells at him as he walks. One brave man tried to stop him and ended up thrown half a meter into the pool.

No one bothers him after that. He could hear the water move as you washed the man.

Knowing he will break the door knob, he instead pushes the door open, snapping the lock.

You gasp hearing the impact, and look at him startled. The position was compromising. You were sitting back on your heels scrubbing the man's back wearing the same halter neck slut dress that you wore when he first met you.

“Logan?” you question, “What are you doing?”.

The man rises from the tub, unashamed by his naked state.

“Get out”, Logan growls.

“Listen buddy, I paid the full-” the man stops his sentence when the claws emerge from logans hands.

You shrink back to the floor, using your hand to keep you upright.

“Get out”, he repeats.

This time the man scrambles to the door, running past Logan without his clothes.

You try to follow suit but Logan's long claws block you from your exit.

You stare at the shiny metal, your face reflecting back at you.

“You’re coming with me”, Logan states, putting away his claws so he could take you by the arm.

“Let go of me” you beg, trying to pull your arm from his grip.

He leads you to the chaos of the bathhouse. Word had spread that a mutant had entered the building and now people ran for cover.

“Let go. No!”, you scream.

You pull your arm too harshly in his hold, he could hear the muscles in your arm straining under the pressure. He loosens his grip so not to hurt you, but brings you closer to his chest.

“Stop it, kid” he demands, “You’re going to hurt yourself”.

“Stop, logan. Please, just let me go”. Your heart was fast, and your eyes dripped with tears.

He reaches up to touch your face but a gunshot pierces his body before it lands. An annoyed groan rubbles from his throat, and he pushes you away from the line of fire.

Another bullet lands in his chest when he turns to see a man in a robe holding a shaking gun.

He dodges the next shot, stalking forward to the frozen man, he grabs the gun out of his weak hold and sends him to the floor with a headbutt.

Tossing the gun aside, he turns to see you no longer in your spot. You couldn’t have made it to the door in that short of time, and your scent was still strong in the room.

He follows it behind the bar to where he saw you squeezed into a tight corner.

“Hey, bub” he tries his best to use a soft voice, “we gotta go. Come on”.

He reaches for you, but you push his hands away.

“Come on” he says more forcefully. He reaches for your waist and not your arm to avoid hurting you.

You thrash against him, begging him to let you go.

He allows it until you reach the front door then he extracts a single claw from his hand that crossed your stomach.

“Walk” he demands.

He manoovers himself so he was behind you with a hand on your stomach and his claw pressed into your side.

You allow him to walk you down the steps and through the crowd, back to his apartment. You were too scared to say anything. Some people gave you a strange look as you passed them crying but no one stopped to help.

“You’re alright. I ain't going to hurt you”, he promises.

He would never hurt you. As soon as you had managed to make your way through the crowd, Logan retracts his claw completely, instead placing both his strong hands on your hips to keep you moving forward.

“Almost there. Atta girl, just keep moving”. He encourages.

The dim lights of his hotel came into view. The vacancy sign buzzed allowing small flashes of light in an otherwise dark street.

He could see fine given his heightened ability, but knew that your lack of senses must be adding to your anxiety.

“Alright, this way”, he takes your wrist into his hand, trusting that you would follow him up the metal stairs.

Your heel snagged on the step. Without Logan's hold you would have been sent flying forward.

“Sorry” you gasp, trying to let him know that it was an honest stumble and not a deliberate act on your part.

“Are you hurt?”, he steps down to your level, throwing your arm over his shoulder while he bends down to take off your shoes, “Let's take these off”.

He holds them in his hand, and your waist in the other and continues to lead you up.

“Come on, we are almost there. Just down the end”.

You reach the top of the stairs and he leads you to the end of the corridor. Stopping at the door that peeled with paint while he digs in his pockets for his key.

He opens the door, quickly pushing you inside and shutting it again.

“Here sit” he suggests.

With his hands off you, he turns on the bedside lamp so you could see.

You do take a seat on the bed, and Logan stands in front of you.

“You’re a mutant?” you finally say.

“Yeah” he admits with a hard tone.

“Are you going to kill me?”, you whisper.

“Christ, no”, he kneels down in front of you so he could be in your eyesight, his hands caged around your legs on the mattress.

“Y/n, I am one of the good guys”, his own words froze him. His eyes cast down to where your dress has risen dangerously high up your thigh. His finger traces up from your knee to your dress hemline.

“Not that you are going to believe that after I am done with you” he says more to himself than you.

“What are you going to do?”, you quake.

He rises himself enough to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Whatever I want”, he whispers against your lips.

He pushes you as gently as he can into the mattress. Using his body weight to cement your place under him.

“Get off”, you complain the second his lips are off you.

“I can’t” Logan protests. His lips go to your neck, biting down harshly. He intended to leave a mark. A claim of sorts for the world to see.

He may have bitten down too harshly, as you push against his face with your hands.

He can hear your heartbeat as it thumps in your chest. It stills him in the crook of your neck.

He didn’t want to scare you.

“I am sorry”, he admits softly into your skin.

He places a soft kiss on the sore he had just created, and reaches to untie the knot of fabric around your neck.

Your hand reaches up to catch the fabric as it falls, holding it over your breasts.

He moves on, hooking his fingers around the elastic of your underwear, and pulling them off onto the floor.

“It’s alright, just breathe”, he concludes.

You keep your eyes shut, and your breaths manic.

In an effort to make you more comfortable, he lifts you up by your armpits and places you in the center of the bed. He changes positions to match yours, straddling you on the bed while he moves the pillows under your head, and by your sides.

You lay there frozen with your eyes squeezed shut, while he removes his clothes on top of you.

You feel his attention return when his lips press down on yours, his hand gently on the side of your face.

“Open your eyes, and look at me”, he commands in a low whisper.

You are met with his face, and bare shoulders peering over you.

“There she is”, he grins a beautiful smile as he brushes his thumb along your cheek.

His lips go to yours again before trailing down to your neck, and chest.

His hands met your on the fabric of your chest, and he tugs it down, bunching the dress around your hips.

A kiss is placed at the top of your breast activating your fight.

You tried to push against him but he was too heavy to even shift.

“Easy” he tells you, “take it easy. It’s alright”.

He comes back up to your face, and begins to stroke your face with his finger again.

“Settle down”, he breathes.

“Logan, please just let me go”, you beg.

“I tried to,” he admits, “but I've never been much of a quiter”.

He kneads the flesh of your breast in his hand, and grows darker at the thought of not completing what he wanted to do.

“Now you’re going to relax and let me take care of you, or I'll tie you to the bed”.

You don’t move again as Logan trails down your body to slide the bunched fabric of your dress down.

He nestles between your thighs next, keeping a strong grip as he inserts himself into you.

He groans as you accept him. Despite your protests you were warm, and wet for him.

He places his hands on stomach feeling the skin that had been hidden from him for so long.

“Please keep your hands away from me”, you shudder. You curl into yourself as much as you could, scared that the blades would come out and pierce into you.

He takes his hand off your stomach, per your request.

In an act to show you he had no intention of hurting you, he releases his claws, and drives them into the mattress either side of you. He feels as they push through the fabric to the bed frame.

“I would never hurt you” he promises.

He keeps his weight on his hands as he thrusts into you. Your hand remained on your chest until they sprang out to his shoulder in an attempt to control the pace.

He slows down until he is at a pace where you no longer push on his shoulder.

As he continues you find yourself building, so you turn away and bury your head into your pillow.

You hear as his claw is pulled from the mattress, and feel his tight grip as it latches around your chin. He pulls your face back to his direction, resting his forehead on top of yours.

You feel his quick breaths on your skin, and breathe them in.

His eyes were closed, but one hand now held your face in place, and the other held your hip down.

You gasp when you feel yourself cuming around him. A low growl makes its way to your ear but you were more focused on Logan fucking you through your orgasm.

Your nails become claws when he doesn’t stop. You make weak sounds, but no words as he thrusts into you.

“You can take it” he says, somehow knowing what you were trying to say.

His hold on your chin becomes hurtful as he reaches his end. You yank at his fingers trying to pry them off but your fingers slip from the force you were trying to use and makes no difference to him.

A loud moan tells you he was done before you felt the warm substance drip from you.

With a smaller, satisfied groan he opens his eyes to look at you. The same smile appears on his face preceding a deep kiss to your lips.

He doesn’t remove himself from you but loosens his hand on your chin, and hip.

You feel his body weight as he rests his head back on your forehead. He was conscious to keep his weight off you, yet the skin he pressed against yours, pinned you to the mattress.

“You alright, princess?” he pants.

You don’t answer him, and he kisses you in your silence.

By the third time you are fucked dumb. You have a glazed look in your eye, and your body is weak against his. He uses you like a toy. Kissing you, and fucking you while you lay there with little energy left.

His stamina and quick recovery times meant that once was never enough to satisfy him. You would lay quietly next to him for only a few minutes before he was ready to go again.

You whine as he approaches you again, not ready for yet another round.

He lays on top of you, gently caging your head between his arms as he whispers “I know, I know”.

He did know. When you began to cry from overstimulation, he felt terrible but couldn’t bring himself to stop. He wasn’t anywhere near his peak, and your pussy clenched so nicely around him.

“Don’t cry”, he begs, “sh, don’t cry”.

You wouldn’t listen. He wasn’t sure if you could even hear him in your state, but he continued to talk anyway.

“Sh, its alright. Feel good there?”, he asks as your hips buck against him.

“Feels good there, hey baby”, he targets the spot that makes your hips buck, and you latch on to his strong shoulders with your nails.

“Pretty girl like you should always feel good. Can I be the one to always make you feel good?”.

No more fresh tears sprang from your eyes, but the path was still wet, and a large tear balanced on the outer corner of your eye.

He moves his hands closer, using his thumbs to brush off the water.

“No more crying, hey bub”.

You turn your head away from him, resting your forehead on his bicep. He turns his attention to applying the right amount of force between your legs.

He gives you a bigger rest time between the next one. Despite, him roaring to go again.

You lay pressed against his side, half-asleep. He slung his arm over the top of your pillow, waiting for you to recover.

Your lipstick was worn off from his ferocious kissing, and your hair had come undone around you.

You open your eyes to look up at him, and he takes it as a sign that he could continue.

He takes your chin into his hand to keep it still as he slides down in the bed next to you.

“No. That’s enough”, you demand, trying to wiggle your head from his hold.

“Just one more” he promises, “I just need one more”.

He kisses you as he hooks your leg over his hip. Reaching back to guide himself into your swollen pussy. You fit together like a jigsaw piece, another reason why all of this was meant to be.

He liked the intimacy of the position, pushing against your lower back to force you closer. He holds his hand there as he thrusts into you, keeping you from wiggling away.

You rest your head on his chest, and arm over his neck taking what he gives you.

His pace is gentler than it had been all night. Slow, controlled thrusts that rocked your body rather than shook it.

His arm under your head kept you level with the large man, but also meant that every moan, and whimper went straight into his ear.

It was encouraging for him to hear you reluctantly enjoying yourself. He only wanted to bring you pleasure never pain.

You groan softly as you cum again, and it triggers his own orgasm.

When he was done with you for the final time, you collapse into the mattress without Logan's body scaffolding yours.

He brushes the hair that had fallen over your face away with his large palm, and lays flat on the bed.

“Come here” he requested, opening his arms for you.

With eyes closed you shuffle to his chest where he pulls you just over his heart. You fall asleep almost instantly, but Logan remains awake gently stroking your hair.

He had been called an animal all his life, but tonight was the only time he truly felt like it.

—-------------------

You woke the next morning to the sound of his voice,

“Hey bub, hey, come on, we have to get going”.

You feel him smooth his palm over the side of your face, and you knock it away. It felt like knocking your hand against an immovable metal pole.

Last night ruined you. You weren’t sure you could rise from the bed if you wanted to.

“I am not going anywhere with you”, you state.

He had taken what he wanted. The deal now was to leave you in peace.

The next sound of his claws unsheathing and digging themselves into the mattress next to you made your eyes sprung open in shock.

“Get up, now”, he demands. He was eager to get home and get you settled in.

Xavier would get involved if Logan was absent for too long. A week here and there was nothing unusual but Xavier knew Logan too well to ignore any strange behavior.

He passes you your dress as you rise, and you quickly place it on, looking for your panties next. Watching you put them back on made Logan want to take them back off but the plane was departing soon.

The short, black dress was definitely more night time appropriate. You stand trying to cover your chest with your folded arms.

He takes off his jacket, passing it to you as he speaks.

“How far is your place from the bathhouse?” he asks.

“Not far, a block”, you answer. You take the jacket off him and zip it up over your dress.

It smelt of him, and his cigars.

“Come on”. He says, taking your arm and tugging you behind him as he left the apartment.

“I can get there myself”, you fought.

“Kid, we haven’t got time”. He moves his grip to a harsher one on your upper arm, and half carries you in the direction he wanted you to go in.

Your heels click behind him down the steps. He detours to drop his room key back to reception before continuing on the path back to your work.

He is silent as he backtracks to the bathhouse. The street is much busier during the day. People stare as you pass them looking.

When the Bathhouse comes into clearing he can feel you pull against him trying to get him to stop.

He halts of his own accord, peering down at you in the middle of a busy street.

“I need to get my keys and phone from work”.

“I can get through the door. Don’t worry about that”, he shakes you slightly, getting impatient with the lack of direction, “Which way?”

You point to the left, and take the led back to your house.

The streets thin as you weave your way out of the center of the city, and into the residential block. Everything was old and run down.

Broken, smashed cars lined the streets, graffiti was sprayed on every covering, people kept to themselves not even looking out the window as you passed.

He follows you until you stop at a run down apartment block.

“This is it”, you state.

“Upstairs”, he orders but you don’t move.

“Let me go or I'll scream”, you threaten.

“And I’ll kill anyone that comes. Upstairs”.

You were yet to learn that Logan had reservations about killing needlessly, especially non-mutants, so you admit defeat and wander down three apartment blocks to your actual home.

The bar was low, but your apartment block was the nicest in the street. No graffiti or broken windows. A nice, clean brick that reached three stories and opened to a nice fourier.

There was no elevator but there was only one flight of stairs up to your apartment.

You show him your door labeled 2A, telling him there was no way to get it open unless he took you back to the bathhouse.

He ignores you, placing his hand on the knob and giving it a gentle push that breaks the lock.

Your heart rate picks up faster, which worries Logan as it was already quite high.

He lets go of your arm to allow you to go in first, and shuts the door behind him.

It was a one bedroom apartment, with a small open kitchen that opened to a small space that had to be chosen to be a living room or a dining area.

You had chosen a living room with a green couch sat in front of a small rectangular table.

“You can take what you want. I have some jewelry in the food cupboard”, you state.

“This isn’t a hold-up”, he grumbles, “Come here”.

He goes to your bedroom, listening to your feet following him.

He goes to your closet to see your luggage bag stored up top. He takes it down, and begins throwing items into it.

‘What are you doing?”, you begin to panic seeing him stuff your suitcase with your clothes.

“Do you have a passport?”

“Why?”

The plane was departing within the hour. He had no time to answer obvious questions.

“Do you have one?”. He reiterates.

“No”. Your heart skips a beat as you lie.

“Go get it”, he demands.

“I don’t want to”, your voice was quiet and strained.

He knew he should have taken a softer approach. To be uprooted overnight would be a hard thing for anybody.

Yet still, his claws dig through at your resistance.

“Go get it”, he said in a lower tone.

His blades work to persuade you, and you move quickly to your bedside table to retrieve it.

He zips up your suitcase, holding out his hand for your passport. You pass it to him, taking a step back once it's in his hand.

Checking it’s valid, he puts it in his back pocket alone with his.

“Logan, I can keep a secret” you say, “I would never tell anyone about you”.

“That’s nice, bub. Go change”, he nods to the wardrobe behind him which you take a pair of jeans, and a singlet from.

You were too quick to the bathroom, so he stops you before you enter.

“Ah” he tuts.

He takes a look inside first to check for windows. There was only a small one with a security screen so he allowed you to pass and shut the door on him.

After a frustrating phone call in which he was misunderstood twice, he manages to order a taxi to the airport, and knocks on the door to let you know it was on its way.

You open the door a different person. Your makeup was all wiped off, and your hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

The confident seductive was replaced with this fragile girl-next-door type. He didn’t think it was possible to love you anymore.

You hand out his jacket to him which he takes but opens it to wrap around your shoulders.

“Keep it. It looks good on you”.

“Logan-” you begin but he cuts you off.

“Sh” he dismisses taking your head into his hands, “it’s alright. I know”.

“But-” you try.

He sh’s you again, “Don’t think. Just come with me”, he begs.

Moving his hands from your head to your wrist he takes you back outside the bathroom to where your bag lay waiting by the door.

You don’t know why but you follow his direction to put your sandals on your feet, and follow him down to the street and into a taxi.

Your head reels as the car drives. The taxi is silent, only the sound from the radio plays. Logan holds onto your thigh while he looks out of the window.

You stare at his hands, wondering where the blades went when they were retracted.

You think about telling the driver but one man was no match for Logan.

The man pulls into the drop off station, and gets out to get your luggage.

Logan turns to you in the car, demanding your attention from his eyes alone.

“Are you going to save us both some time and be a good girl, or do we need to go over what will happen if you draw attention?”.

You shake your head ‘no’.

“Good girl, let’s go”.

Logan goes out the same door you do, instantly taking your hand in his in the busy station.

He pays the man, and takes your suitcase for you.

“Where are we going?”, you request.

Logan joins the back of the line for check-in’s

“New York”, he gives.

“What's in New york?” you ask him.

“Home”.

You flex your hands in his, trying to get it free.

“I am going home with you?”, you implore.

He nods, not looking at you.

“You said you were one of the good guys”, you remind him.

“I told you, I am a good guy that does bad things”.

His fingers clench around yours in a painful hold. Your eyes fill up with fresh tears. You knew Logan wouldn’t hurt you, but he was a stranger, a mutant, who had taken you from your home, and planned to place you in his.

“Don’t cry. Not here”, he demands.

He moves his body to shield you from prying eyes, as you try your best to conceal your panic.

A gentle hand rubs your back as you move up in line.

The girl at the counter notices your red eyes, and asks if you are okay.

“She’s a nervous flyer” he lies.

The woman ignores him, asking you the question again.

The hand you held had blades that came out on command so you nod your head in agreement.

“I’ll be fine once we are up in the air” you say.

The woman hands Logan the tickets, and you make your way over to the security screening.

Logan seemed amazed you had lied for him.

He kisses your head, thanking you for not causing a scene.

He lets you go easy when you reach the security point, letting you walk through the metal detector.

You eye the security and their guns, but you watched Logan get shot at point blank. Would their guns even dint him?

The metal detector beeps when Logan walks through. For a second, you think that you will find out if their guns work on him when a security officer closes in.

“Easy there, big guy”, Logan takes a slip of paper out of his pocket to show the man, “I have a metal hip”.

The man takes the pass over to his supervisor. You wonder if they know something is wrong as they talk, but the manger looks relaxed, and with a wave of his hand the pass is given back to Logan, and you get the go ahead.

Logan slings his arm over your shoulder past the security who don’t take a second glance.

“You have metal in your hands?” you whisper the question to him.

“I have adamantium in my entire body” he explains, “It’s a type of metal”.

You feel amazed at the news. A whole body of metal reinforcing him to be the most dangerous man you had ever met.

The most dangerous man you had ever met took you over to a cafe stand. Buying you, and himself a roll and coffee.

You never would have guessed the man you met at the bathhouse harbored such a secret. How many other clients were mutants too, or was he the only one.

“It’s gettin’ cold”, he says noticing you staring at him.

You accept his gift, starving after last night.

The rest of the time until boarding was silent. Only then did the sense of dread kick back in.

“Please”, you beg.

“I am sorry. Get on the plane”. His voice was soft, but you could hear no sound of true sympathy from it.

He keeps you in front of him as the attendant checks the tickets, and you find your seats.

You were the only two on your row, right at the back of the plane.

Logan settles into the seat beside you, doing up his seatbelt, and checking yours.

The cabin crew begin their safety speech. Your eyes were trained out the window, not looking at them. You hoped the plane crashed.

When the plane began moving at a fast pace, Logan checked your seatbelt again, pulling on it to make sure it was tight across your lap.

You look at him. He was tense again, and shut his eyes when the plane took off.

When it stabilized he let out a breath of air, and opened his eyes, falling back into his seat.

“Afraid of flying?” you ask surprised.

“If god wanted us to fly, we’d have wings”, he quips.

“And if god wanted us to have blades in our hands, we would”.

Logan's hands ball into fists. He was a freak in your eyes.

“One day I’ll explain what happened to me”, he promises.

“What else can you do? You’re strong, hard, body full of metal”, you start, “and that man. He shot you”.

“Baby, I can do alot of things”, he dismisses.

“Like what?” you push.

“Maybe now is not the time to be discussing this”. He says looking around at other passengers. Most of whom already had their earphones on.

“What do you want with me?”, you implore.

“Now’s really not the time to be discussing that” He grits.

“One of the good guys” you remind him.

“I'll settle for being an okay guy. Stop talking” he growls.

You turn back to the window away from him the rest of the flight.

You watch as the clouds below you turn orange, and then black. Logan passes you a food tray from the stewardess and you eat it in silence.

It must have looked odd to the stewardess. Neither you or Logan played with the screen in front of you. Just sat there with grim expressions on your faces.

Lights turn off as the cabin goes to sleep. You were nowhere near ready with the adrenaline pumping through your body.

Logan takes his blanket from the wrapper and lays it over your shoulder.

“You should sleep,” he says.

“Is that how it's going to be from now on? You telling me what to do” , you snap.

Logan turns away from you, facing to the front.

“It was just a suggestion”.

You run your hands over your face wondering what sort of keeper he was going to be.

“I need to pee” you say.

He unbuckles his seatbelt to get up out of your way but you couldn’t wait for him. You’re fighting to get past him as he tries to stand.

He grabs your waist to maneuver you but the touch sends rage through your body.

You scream in his face. A loud ear piercing scream that turned everyone’s attention on you.

Logan quickly let go, slumping back into his seat under the stare of other awake passengers.

You rush to the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

The tight space allows you to breathe.

Washing your face with cold water, you decide it is time to return to your seat.

Logan waits for the sound of a turning lock before he jumps from his seat to catch you as you exited and push you back inside.

He is quick to lock the door behind him.

Three, quick, firm smacks are placed on your bottom as he pushes you against the sink.

It stings when he sits you on the counter, and stands between your legs.

“Are you crazy, bub? Acting like that”, he scolds.

You try to move him out between your legs, but he pushes your knee down as you move your leg.

“Don’t you ever misbehave like that again”, he warns.

“Or what?”. He had already taken everything from you, and you trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t really hurt you.

His angry stare didn’t scare you, but when his hands reached for the button of your jeans your heart rate spiked.

“I gotta fuck the stupid out of you?” he spat.

“Get off” you demand.

You scream in his face again when his hand continues to unhook the button.

He is quick to quieten you, clamping a hand over your mouth. Your head hits the mirror from the force.

He secures your hands behind your back with a single hand when you begin to hit him. It caused you more pain than him, it felt as if you were hitting against a brick wall.

The force knocks out his necklace that he had never worn before. A rectangular pendant dangles as he moves. You could see it was inscribed but the writing was too small to make out.

“Is that how it’s going to be from now on? Me telling you what to do. Yeah. I think fucking so”, he grunts.

“Now don’t scream” he orders.

The hand over your mouth is removed as he uses it to tug down your jeans, and then his own.

You know you should scream, make some sort of noise that would alert the others, but desire pooled with him between your legs.

Your emotions were too complicated to unpack so you allowed him to take your pants off your legs.

He throws them to the floor, but keeps your panties in his hands.

You see why when he brings them to your lips, and forces them in your mouth. He clamps his hand back over to keep you from spitting them out.

He sighs as he enters you.

“You know, you don’t need to act stupid to get my attention”, he grunts as he rocks into you.

Your toes curl feeling him inside of you. He fit so completely that you were building from just clenching around him.

“Don’t cum. I’ll tell you when”, he says.

You muffle a protest against his hand, but it was met with no sympathy.

“Don’t you fucking cum or I’ll put you over my knee for ten more”.

Your ass still stung from the three he gave you so you delayed yourself the best you could.

He picks up his pace, slamming into you quickly, and hard. You hear his chain clink as he moves.

“Okay now”, he directs.

Your thighs shake as you clench around him.

His hand drops to allow you to regain your breath, bringing your pants from your mouth as he did.

He pants in unison with you, only he is quicker to regain his resolve. Your head was still reeling while he re-buttons his jeans.

He shakes his head as if he was trying to snap out of the trance he was in.

It seemed to have worked as he was gentle when he slid your underpants back on.

It was as if two people lived inside of him. One was sweet, and gentle, the other impulsive, and violent.

You weren’t sure which one turned you on the way it did.

He looks at you with those remorseful eyes. You should hate him but yourself wanting to comfort him. You knock it down to Stockholm and square your shoulders against his.

“Let me take a look at you”. He turns your face in his hand and smooths back your hair from your face with his other hand.

He checks to make sure you are okay. You didn’t look to be crying or in any pain.

“You right, Bub? You going to be good for me from now on?”, he asks.

You take the necklace out of his shirt. He doesn’t move to stop you, letting you read his dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ in capital letters and Howlett in smaller letters below. A series of numbers trace the bottom.

You flip it, feeling the indents on the other side, and run your finger over the name.

“Wolverine” you read, “like the animal?”.

He takes his tags from your hand and tucks them back under his shirt.

“Yeah, like the animal”.

#Dark!logan #dark!wolverine #logan howlet smut #logan howellt x you #dark logan howlett

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month ago

Text

Love That Burns ~ 8

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,416ish

Summary: You get brought to a school and meet new mutants.

Warnings: sadness, time skips

Notes: Hopefully this chapter makes sense and isn't complete trash. And don't worry! Our lovebirds will see each other again soon! But that doesn't mean there's fluff coming... Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You didn’t expect to be brought to a mansion—a school when you got in the jet. You had stayed silent and stared out one of the windows the entirety of the flight. Charles explained where you were headed: Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He ran the school for mutants to get educated and learn to handle their mutations. You would have loved the idea more if you weren’t dying inside. The kids were all escorted to a lab to get checked out while you stayed seated on the jet. Charles stayed with you.

“I can help you,” he said.

“Stay out of my head,” you grumbled.

“I am truly sorry for what I had to do before.” He wheeled closer. “You’re safe now.”

“I don’t care!” You finally looked at the man, not caring if he saw you crying. “Nothing matters anymore… Nothing…”

“You’ve been through a lot. You need rest and to get that bullet out of your shoulder.”

You shook your head. “I need James… I don’t care about anything else… I just need him.” You stood up. “I have to go back.”

“It’s too late. The military has already arrived.”

“I can’t— I can’t—“ You broke into sobs as you collapsed on your knees.

You never even noticed that a young girl had entered the jet. She walked over to you and knelt in front of you. Clearly feeling brave, the girl reached out and took your hand.

“Jean,” Charles called, “what are you doing?”

“Her thoughts are loud,” the girl, Jean, admitted.

You tried to weakly tug your hand away, but the girl held strong. You looked at her, confused, before you began to feel sleepy. Before you knew it, you were passed out on the floor of the jet.

“Jean, you shouldn’t have done that,” Charles admonished.

“I had to,” Jean argued. “Her pain was everywhere. She needs rest.”

Charles sighed. “And you did well. Go get Hank so that we can get our new friend here to a bed.”

~~~

Glancing around the room, you put together that you had been moved to the lab or med area of some sort. There was a large, blue… beast? The beast was facing away from you, looking at some screen. You cleared your throat as you sat up. The beast turned around.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, coming towards you. “You’ve been asleep for a few days. We were worried there for a second.”

“Where am I?” You asked, still nervous about your surroundings.

“At Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”

“This doesn’t look like a school.”

“This is our underground facility, used for training mostly.”

You nodded. “Who are you?”

“I’m Hank McCoy.”

“Y/N L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the table. “Am I good to leave?”

“This room or the school?”

“Both.”

Hank sighed, almost like he knew you were going to say that. “You should talk to Charles before you leave. I’ll take you to him.”

You slipped off the metal table and followed Hank out into the hallway. It was silver metal, like the room you were just in, and long with various large circular doors with ‘X’s on them. Hank led you to an elevator, letting you enter first before he pressed the button to go up.

When the elevator reopened, you were a bit taken back. It was like you were transported to a completely different place. The place was grand and spacious, featuring intricate woodwork and paintings on the walls. It was almost like a museum. There were children of various ages rushing about—students of the school. You kept looking around as Hank led you to a quaint office down the hall from the elevator. Charles Xavier was already facing the door, waiting for you.

“Thank you, Hank,” Charles said. “You may leave us.”

Hank gave the other man a nod before leaving, shutting the door behind him. Charles gave you a light smile as he motioned over to a leather chair.

“Please, have a seat.”

“I’m good,” you said, your words baring no emotion.

“Very well. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Charles sighed. “I am not the enemy, Y/N. I am sorry for taking away your free will, but it was for your safety.”

“My safety doesn’t matter anymore… James is dead.”

“I am sorry for your loss.”

“When can I leave?”

“Whenever you’d like. But I do hope you’d stay a while, give this place a chance. We could use another teacher.”

Your heart suddenly sunk when it finally hit you that your students didn’t know what had happened. They were probably devastated. You finally took a seat before your knees could give out.

“I believe that we could use you here, Y/N,” Charles continued. “You’d be a great teacher. A teacher to mutants like you. You could be the good influence that you didn’t have.”

You shook your head, tearing up. “I can’t… I don’t know how… not without James.”

“It will be hard. But here, you could gain a family. Friends who are like you. A job and even, a mission.”

“I… I can’t stay.”

“It’s your choice. But please do stay for a few days, just to get some rest and figure out what you would like to do. I can show you to a room that you can use as long as you need.” He reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. “This place will always welcome you, no matter what you choose.”

~~~

You were given your own room near the other teachers. You told Charles that you would stay for a few days to get a plan together and then leave. But now it had been over a week. You couldn’t get yourself to leave, but you also weren’t interacting with anyone. You kept to yourself whether that was in your room or roaming through the gardens. You could feel the eyes of everyone at the school on you, wondering who you were and what you were doing there, but you didn’t care. The gardens were big enough that you often found new areas to hide in every day. You would find a spot and cry, wishing that you could somehow make things right again. That James could be by your side.

It had been a while since you had any nightmares, now they were every time you closed your eyes. You had set your room on fire a few times, with Charles and Hank telling you that it was alright, but it didn’t matter. You avoided sleep now. You couldn’t risk burning the place down though you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave. There was something about this place that wouldn’t let you go. Something telling you that you were meant to stay.

You were in the gardens one day when it got really bad. You were absentmindedly walking around when your right hand gripped at your left. You stumbled to a stop as you looked down at your hand. Your ring. You didn’t have your ring. A sob tore through you before you could do anything about it and you were quickly brought to your knees. Your chest was tightening, causing you to struggle for breath.

You didn’t register the quick footsteps behind you. Or the three students that knelt in front of you.

“We have to help her,” one of them said. He had sunglasses over his eyes, trying to manage the lasers that could shoot from them. “Ororo?”

“Don’t look at me,” Ororo responded.

“I can help her,” the red-headed, Jean, offered. “I’ve done it before.”

Jean’s hand reached out and gripped your shoulder. Within a few moments, you were completely passed out on the ground.

“Grab her, Scott,” Jean told the boy.

Scott picked you up and carried you inside. Charles was already there waiting, sensing what had happened. He instructed the kids to take you to your room and then he’d keep an eye out on you. So that’s were you woke, in your new bed. Charles was reading a book next to the bed, using the lamp on the bedside table to give off some light.

“How did I get here?” You asked.

Charles set the book down on his lap and gave you a tight smile. “Scott Summers, one of the kids that you rescued. He and two others found you. I had them bring you here.”

You nodded as you sat up, leaning against the headboard. “I’m so lost.”

“I know.”

“I think… I think I’m going to stay. At least for a little while. Until I find myself again.”

“We would be honored to have you.”

“And I can teach?”

“Of course.”

~~~

Charles had you set up in a classroom the next day and a few days later, you were teaching the English Literature class. Jean, Scott, and Ororo were three of your students, each in different classes. Slowly, you began to connect more with each of them. You would help them with various homework assignments after classes and soon began watching their training sessions, giving them tips on how to control their powers.

“Scott, it starts with confidence,” you told him from the side of the Danger Room, located in the basement of the mansion. “If you don’t believe you can control it, them you won’t be able to.”

Charles watched the training session from the sidelines, interested in how quickly you ended up helping these kids. You watched as Scott shot his lasers everywhere, quickly losing control. You ducked before you got hit. Scott grunted in annoyance as he slipped his new visors on that Hank had made him.

“I’m done for the day,” Scott grumbled, stomping out of the room.

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to standing.

“You’ve seemed to grow fond of Scott, Jean, and Ororo,” Charles stated as he rolled toward you.

“They need some help,” you said. “I can provide that.”

“And you’re doing it very well.” He looked around the Danger Room. “When was the last time you let your powers unleashed?” You clenched your jaw, thinking back to the day you lost James. “You should take some time to work on your own abilities.”

“I don’t have any reason to.”

“And if I gave you a reason?” You eyed Charles curiously. “This underground facility is also known as the headquarters for the X-Men.”

“X-Men?”

“A team of mutant heroes that help were needed. As of right now, we don’t have a team. You could train some students, put a team together.”

“You trust me to do this?”

“Y/N, I have seen your past. This is your chance to put together a team who could actually make a difference.”

You gave it a brief thought, knowing that Charles had a point. “Okay. I’m in.”

~~~

You began training the students interested in joining the team and those with abilities that could help the team. That meant that you had long days, but you didn’t mind. The longer the days, the less time you slept, which also meant less nightmares. You began to use your abilities more and more, working to strengthen them using the Danger Room in ways that you hadn’t before. It was freeing, your alone time in the Danger Room.

A few years past and the students were older, officially ready to be part of a team. To them, that meant that they needed superhero nicknames.

“What about Cyclops?” Jean suggested for Scott.

“Cyclops isn’t terrible,” Ororo agreed.

“I honestly don’t care,” Scott said.

“Cyclops it is then,” Jean said with a smile. “Ororo is obviously Storm.”

“I love it!” Ororo exclaimed with a clap. “And you’re Phoenix, Jean.”

“Phoenix… I like it.” The three turned to you, who had remained silent, working on new suit designs. “And for Y/N… I think… Ember.”

“Ember?” You repeated.

“I think it works great!” Ororo said.

You sighed. “Whatever you kids say.”

“Ember it is then!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You guys need a life.”

“We have one. We’re X-Men!”

“Or X-Women,” suggested Jean.

“That doesn’t roll off the tongue nicely.”

“If you three could stop talking about names and start helping me with these sketches, that would be nice.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scott replied with a mock salute.

With a mere thought of yours, flames appeared on the jeans Scott was wearing. He screamed, running around, while the other three of you laughed. You put out the flames before any real damage could be done, revealing that the flames had destroyed Scott’s jeans and underwear, leaving his butt hanging out. You, Jean, and Ororo only laughed harder as Scott tried to cover his butt with his hands and ran off.

~~~

You woke up feeling off and looking at the date only made it worse. It was the tenth anniversary of James’ death. Thankfully, you didn’t need to teach today. So you were slow to get up and ready before heading out to the gardens, to try and spend the day alone. Your hand stayed clasped around your dog tags as you wandered the gardens aimlessly. You could feel eyes watching you from the mansion and knew that Charles, Hank, Ororo, Jean, and Scott were worried.

It was around dinner time when Charles decided to go to you. You were standing near the pond, staring out like you weren’t even there. Charles sat next to you, staring out for a moment before clearing his throat.

“I know today is hard for you,” he said. “But there are some bright sides to it… Ten years ago, you were brought here. Scott was brought here. You’ve become a teacher and a leader to many mutants.”

“I miss him,” you rasped, voice cracking. “I miss him every day, but…”

“Today is worse. I have days like that too. Days were I miss those that I used to know.”

“Like Erik and Raven?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“I know you mean well, Charles, but Erik and Raven aren’t dead. You’re just on different sides of the fight. James… James is dead and part of me died with him.”

“Yes, but a new part of you was born.” When you didn’t respond, Charles sighed. “At least eat something. We can’t have you leaving us too soon.”

Charles rolled away, leaving you alone once again.

“I love you, James,” you closed your eyes and whispered, praying that somehow he could hear you. “I will always love you.”

next chapter >

#logan howlet x reader #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x mutant reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x female!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #wolverine fanfiction #the wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #the wolverine x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic

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dropsnectar · 2 months ago

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Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART THREE

This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!

So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.

You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed.

Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.

Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.

***

When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”

Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help.

“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours.

“Whats wrong?”

You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.

“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.

“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”

Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.

“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”

Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”

You frowned.

“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”

“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.

There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.

How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind.

You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.

This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately.

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”

Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.

Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.

After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?

Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!

Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men.

They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I

“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”

Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”

Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”

You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.

“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.

You giggled and pushed his shoulder.

“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”

Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…

“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?”

Renas face changed into a smirk.

“Yes, and?”

“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?”

Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”

Oh. He was pouting now.

“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.

Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”

You looked at him, shocked.

“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”

“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”

“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”

He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”

Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?

This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate.

Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.

***

As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.

You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.

A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,

“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”

Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it.

Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.

“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply.

Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell.

You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.

You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth!

Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.

Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.

You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it.

At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance.

“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.

This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.

“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.

He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it.

Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.

When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual.

Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.

It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting.

Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.

After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.

“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”

“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.

“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.

You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?”

Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith.

“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”

“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.

“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”

Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.

“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.

Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.

“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men.

Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-

“Little One”

Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone.

“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.

You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.

“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?”

You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy.

You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets.

You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.

Part Four

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster #monster x reader #terat0philliac #teratophillia #bee hybrid #bee hybrids #bee hybrid × reader #bee hybrids x reader #monster romance #bee monster #monster fluff #fluff

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carlmipololo · 2 months ago

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Warm

Carl Grimes x Fem!reader

Fluff, blood, cramps (like, very, VERY bad cramps), comfort and loads of sweetness from Carl. (Most prolly ooc)

It was that time of the month you feared again, your period was one of the things you hated the most in the world, bleeding wasn't even that bad, the cramps were.

You had found out you were on your period that morning when you woke up in pain, your lower belly felt like it was being constantly stabbed, ripped apart by something sharp from the inside, and lucky for you, you had stirred your boyfriend awake too.

"What's wrong?" His voice was raspy and groggy, still laced with sleep as he rubbed his eye, looking at the way you remained sat in bed while holding your pelvic area, his eyebrows quickly furrowing in concern. "Is it that time of the month? Are the cramps bad?"

You can't help but nod at his questions, too preoccupied with your pain to actually want to try and mouth a reply for him, and he understands it, if you hated your period cramps he hated them ten times more, he couldn't stand seeing you suffer, and even less when it was a pain he couldn't really help with taking away.

Carl sits up and gently reaches forward for you, his touch soft on your skin as he makes you lay down again, switching places in bed as he checks for any kind of leakage you may have had in your sleep, he notices the stain and is quick to lift you up from the bed. "C'mon we gotta get you clean, alright? I'll change the bedsheets too."

He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet, taking off the flannel he had used to sleep and placing it around your lower belly to provide some warmth to ease your cramps a bit as he starts the water to run you a bath, "just wait for a little, alright love?" he kisses your forehead tenderly before disappearing into the room for a couple of minutes, changing the bedsheets. Returning just in time to turn the water off, checking the temperature before helping you out of your pajamas, being mindful of your comfort as he tries not to stare too much or do anything you wouldn't want him to. "I can get inside myself."

He shakes his head, clearly not accepting that. "Nope, I don't want you passing out on me or something because you tried to tough it off, let me take care of you right now, please." You sigh and reluctantly accept, being carried and carefully set down inside the tub, the hot water soothing your swollen pelvic area.

Carl bathed you gently, his touch caring and sweet as he washed you, and now he had taken the mission of dressing you comfortably, a pair of new underwear along with a pad, his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. "Where did you get a pad?" He smiles sheepishly, looking up at you "I asked Michonne for one for you, she gave me a couple more too."

You muster up a smile through the pain, Carl was always so sweet, so caring, when it came to you. "Thanks."

As Carl eases you back into bed and tucks you in you try and relax a little, but the pain is overwhelming even if you were already kinda used to it, and Carl knows that, so he's quick to pepper kisses on your face before leaving to go downstairs to the kitchen, returning shortly after with a plate of pancakes that were probably cooked by Michonne, a bag of hot water and a chocolate bar he was saving up in the freezer.

"Alright baby, let me take care of you." His hands are gentle as he places the bag of water over your lower belly, taking a seat beside you on the bed and feeding you patiently, helping to try and ease your pain through every painful cramp with kisses and sweet words.

[...]

"I can't take it, I hate this." You say softly and start sobbing, it had been hours and your pain only seemed to be getting worse, and Carl couldn't help but feel his heart ache for you. "It's alright, pretty girl, it's alright baby, let me get you a cup of tea and make you warm, that will help."

It doesn't take more than five minutes for Carl to be back with a hot cup of tea for you, which he places between your hands to let you drink at your own pace, he had also gotten you a couple pills of painkillers of his own that he had been given after his eye got shot off, it wouldn't take all the pain away, but he hoped to make it better.

As you finish drinking the tea and swallow the pills you ease back onto the mattress, hiccuping slightly from crying before as Carl envelopes his arms around you, warmth, that's what he provided, and you loved feeling warm with his love and care.

"I love you, Carl" you whisper as you let your head rest on his shoulder, your arms around his neck as he cups your lower back, gently massaging it. "I love you too, baby."

You drift off into a peaceful slumber, and so does he when he senses you're better now, and how to not be? If he kept you so warm and comforted, you felt like even the greatest pain eased between his arms.

What the fuck did I do help. Anyways, I'm bouta die from my own cramps, so this is for all the cramping girlies.

Also, deadass wanted to make Carl play-punch reader in the lower belly to say some corny ahh shit like "evil cramps, leave my princess alone" 💀

Tags: @carlslvr @crxssbowcarl @aurasplanet @lunarnightt @herrera2k @hiro--aoki @twds-things @carlsangel @smollbean42905 @girlthatsinsane

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vampireprincess215 · 3 months ago

Text

Cramps | P.S

genre: smut, fluff, MDNI

warnings: sexual content, pet names, protected sex, period sex, mention of periods and period blood, aftercare

Word: 1265

Not proofread

Your pov

“How are you feeling darling?” he asked

“a little better but these cramps are killing me” I say as I lay in bed curled up

Seonghwa's heart aches as he sees the discomfort on your face. He sits down next to you and gently rubs your back. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart I wish I could take the pain away for you Is there anything I can do to help” he says

“There is one way” I say as I look up at him

Seonghwa looks at you intently, curious to know what you have in mind. “Tell me. I'll do anything to make you feel better” he says

“I don’t think you will like it because you hate messes” I say as I feel a sharp cramp

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your comment. “I may hate messes, but I love you more darling. If it's something that can help ease your pain, I'm willing to do it” he says

i look away from him a bit embarrassed “Orgasms help with the pain” I say

Seonghwa is taken aback by your suggestion, but he quickly recovers and tries to keep a straight face. “Ah, I see. Well, I suppose it's worth a try But are you sure you want to do that right now? You're still in pain, after all” he asked concerned

“Yes just be gentle I am more sensitive” I say I sit up

Seonghwa nods understandingly, his expression softening. “Of course, I'll be gentle darling. I don't want to cause you any more pain. wait right here while I go get some towels”

“Ok” I say

Seonghwa quickly goes to the bathroom and returns with a few towels. He lays them out on the bed and motions for you to lie down. “Lie down, sweetheart. I'll take care of you.“

I lie down on the bed, Seonghwa climbs onto the bed and positions himself over you, his hands gently running up and down your body. He leans down and starts placing soft kisses along your neck and collarbone.

Seonghwa continues to kiss and nibble at your neck, his hands slowly making their way down to your hips. He gently tugs at the hem of your clothes, silently asking for permission to remove them, I nodded my head silently to tell him to keep going

Seonghwa takes your nod as a sign to continue. He slowly pulls your clothes off, his eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of desire and tenderness. He takes off his clothes then positions himself between your legs, He then reaches down and starts to caress your sensitive areas, his touch gentle and slow.

I tried to close my legs. “Seonghwa are you sure you want to do this I don’t want you to feel like you have to for me” I say, Seonghwa looks up at you, his eyes filled with reassurance and love. “Of course, I'm sure. I want to do this because I care about you and I want to help you feel better. I don't feel like I have to do anything. I want to do this because I love you.” he says

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with all the blood” I say

Seonghwa gently takes your face in his hands and looks into your eyes. “My love, I don't care about the blood. I care about you and your comfort. If this is something that will help ease your pain, then I'm willing to do it. Besides, it's just a natural part of your body. I won't be uncomfortable.”

“Ok” I say, Seonghwa rips open the condom wrapper and quickly rolls it on. He then positions himself between your legs, his hands gently stroking your thighs. “Are you ready, love?”

“Please hwa” I say, Seonghwa slowly slides himself inside of you moaning at how warm and wet you are, it is easy for him to move slowly and gently because of your period blood, his hands caressing your body and kissing your neck and face tenderly. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, letting you know how much he loves you and how precious you are to him

“mmmm seonghwa” I moan out softly

Seonghwa picks up the pace a little bit, making sure not to hurt you and being very careful. He grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers together, holding onto you tightly while he moves his hips rhythmically against yours

i hold his hand as he thrust into me “p-please faster seonghwa” I moan out breathlessly

Seonghwa grunts and obliges, increasing the speed of his thrusts. He leans down and kisses you passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth as he moves inside of you. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, and he knows you're close to reaching your climax

“Ahh seonghwa~“ I moan, Seonghwa lets out a low moan as he hears you call out his name. He moves his free hand down to your sensitive spot, gently rubbing it to help you reach your peak. “That's it, darling. Let go for me.” He says

“Seonghwa!“ I cry out, Seonghwa feels you clench around him as you reach your climax, and it sends him over the edge as well. He buries his face in your neck, panting heavily as he comes down from his high. He stays inside of you for a moment, catching his breath

I feel the sticky mess between my thighs “we should get cleaned up” I say

Seonghwa looks down at the messy towels as well and nods in agreement. He slowly pulls out of you and carefully removes the condom, tying it off and disposing of it in the trash can. “Yeah, we definitely need to clean up. Are you feeling okay darling? Was I too rough?”

“It made the cramps stop” I say as I smile, Seonghwa smiles back at you, relieved to hear that he was able to help you with your cramps. He gently picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the edge of the tub. “I'm glad I could help. Let's get you cleaned up and then we can relax together.”

“Thank you seonghwa” I say, Seonghwa starts the water in the tub and helps you into it. He gets in behind you and wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. “You're welcome, my love. I'll always take care of you, no matter what.”

Seonghwa begins to gently wash your body, being careful and tender as he touches you. He massages your shoulders and back, trying to help you relax further. He kisses the top of your head and nuzzles his face into your hair.

I continue to let seonghwa pamper me until it is time for us to get out the tub, Seonghwa rinses the soap off of your body and then turns off the water. He grabs a towel and wraps it around you, gently lifting you out of the tub and drying you off. He then grabs a second towel and wraps it around himself before leading you back to the bedroom.

We change into our pajamas i lay down in bed as Seonghwa climbs in beside you and pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest. He pulls the covers up over both of you and snuggles up to you, feeling completely content and at peace.

“Goodnight, my darling. Sleep well.” He says

“Goodnight, hwa”

A/n: I hoped you all enjoyed, this was a special request from a baby bat and until next time

#ateez smut #hongjoong smut #mingi smut #seonghwa smut #jongho smut #san smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #yunho smut

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deanscherrypie420 · 5 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫

A/N: Hi! This was third most requested on the poll! I hope you guys enjoy, it took me forever to think of a story OMG!

Characters: BAU Team, Reader Y/N

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Reader

Warnings: Soft!Dom Aaron, description of crime scenes, antagonizing, sensitive neck area, implied smut but no actual, teasing, lots of kissing towards the end, pretty cute ending, praise kink, spitting (spits into her mouth once), getting interrupted (they were just kissing, don't worry), (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: After getting on your new boss's bad-side, you face his irritation throughout your case. When you get back, however, it seems he's a better profiler than you thought.

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It was her first official day at the Bureau. She had been training alongside a different team for a few weeks before being sent to work with the BAU.

When she entered the conference room, she was greeted by a woman in a dashingly bright outfit. "Hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, technical analyst for the BAU. You're the new agent, right?"

Y/N nodded and shook her hand, a faint smile on her lips. "Hi, yeah. I'm Y/N Y/L/N." She stated simply, pulling out a chair to sit down. Penelope stepped out of the room for a moment, calling the rest of the team in.

One by one, they all piled in. Two other women came to shake her hand and she declined, passing it off with a joke. They didn't seem to mind, sitting down beside her and engaging in small talk.

The last person to come in was an older man dressed in a nice suit, clean cut black hair and dark brown eyes. She perked up, recognizing him immediately.

SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit chief.

"Y/L/N, good to finally meet you. We've heard great things." He complimented, reaching out to shake her hand. She gave a sharp smile, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Thanks, unfortunately I can't say the same about you." She set her hand on top of his, gently pushing it down to decline his offer. He noticeably stiffened, and the room filled with tension. "Excuse me?" He questioned, brows knitted tight together.

"I mean, you're practically a rogue agent. You're constantly under the microscope," She shook her head with a quiet laugh, "And from what I hear, you've always been off the rails, even with a stick up your ass."

Before Aaron could respond, Garcia interrupted, getting into the grimy details of a murder in Colorado. After the brief, everyone exited the room, leaving Y/N and Hotchner in the room alone.

His hand clamped down on her shoulder, squeezing tight as he leaned in behind her. "I advise you to stay in your lane. Keep that dirty little mouth of yours shut." He whispered in her ear.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat, heat rising to her cheeks. He patted her on the back before stepping out, returning to his office to collect his to-go bag.

She stood up and grabbed her bag from beneath her, already prepared for her first day. When she made it to the jet, she claimed a seat next to the blonde woman, who she vaguely remembered as Jennifer.

"Rogue agent, huh?" The older man in front of her asked. She studied him, his fingers in a triangle shape resting on the table, grey hair blooming within his black strands.

She grinned and nodded, leaning back into her chair. "I can't repeat what I've heard?" She prodded, tapping her foot on the ground. She knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but she didn't care.

As if he read her mind, he hunched forward and reciprocated her smirk. "Not if you want to last longer than day one. You may have heard some interesting things about Aaron, but I'm sure you've also heard that he doesn't take bullshit from anyone. Especially not from beginners."

She swallowed hard, feeling everyone's eyes on her. She tried to think of a witty response, something to drag her out of the pit she was in. Her brain paused when the same hand from before ruffled her hair, a stiff smile on Aaron's face. "I'm sure it was a mistake on her part. Right, Y/N?"

She nearly choked, reaching up to fix her hair. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She croaked out, an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Rossi just shook his head and 'tsked' in disapproval.

After another quick conversation about the case, Aaron paired everyone up. "Morgan, JJ, you check out the body. Rossi, Prentiss and Reid, set up with local PD."

After not addressing her, she raised a brow. She turned to face him, an annoyed look on her features. "What about me?" She questioned, and he gave her a smug grin.

"You're with me. We'll examine the crime scene." Was all he said, turning his attention back to the file. She slumped in her chair, glaring at Morgan when she heard him chuckle.

Dammit.

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"So what do you see?" He quizzed her, motioning towards the crimson stained kitchen. She studied it for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek as she thought.

"Rage fueled kill. Blood painted on the walls, clearly over-kill. He doesn't like authority figures, this is the third he's killed this week." She explained and he scoffed.

"You aren't projecting, are you?" He asked her, and she froze. "What do you mean?" Her fists balled up, biting her lip to withhold any rude remarks she might let slip.

"You have issues with figures of authority. You tried to embarrass me in front of my team, and the whole drive here you ignored everything I've had to tell you." He stepped closer to her, his dark eyes boring into hers.

"If I had to guess I'd assume parental issues. You have a sharp tongue, a defense mechanism to keep people at arms reach. Should I keep going?" He had a stern, yet calm look in his eyes. She bit her cheek and pondered, unsure how to respond.

"You're uncomfortable." He noted and she raised a brow. "Am not. You're not as intimidating as you think, Aaron." She snapped back, and he stepped even closer, his face mere inches away.

"I didn't say intimidated, but thank you for letting me know that's how I make you feel." He smiled down at her, making her stomach churn. She turned on her heel and hurried out, slamming the front door behind her.

He chuckled and shook his head, walking out behind her. "Where are you going?" He asked and she crossed her arms, stopping at the end of the road. "Away from you." She muttered and he stopped a few feet in front of her.

"You're acting like a child. Get in the car, now." She huffed and brushed past him, ramming her shoulder into his as she went. He had to hold back from grabbing her and slamming her onto the car.

She slid into the passenger seat, throwing her feet up on the dash and sinking her teeth into their spot in her cheek. Aaron got into the driver seat and stared at her.

"I understand this is your way of defiance, but it's not amusing. Legs down." He ordered and she unwillingly obeyed. "Sorry." She spat, sarcasm creeping in her tone.

"Being a brat isn't gonna work for you, not with me at least." He warned her and she barely nodded, glancing over at him. She didn't know why, but she kind of liked it when he talked to her like this.

However, she couldn't help but want the softer side of him too. He felt her staring as he drove to the local police department, finding it cute when he looked at he and she turned away.

"You're a lot more shy than I expected." He told her, making her look away again. "Pardon?" She croaked, heat rushing up her neck. He set his hand down on her knee and his thumb rubbed circles against it.

"Nothing, just keep your act together."

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After the case, Y/N was waiting in Aarons office. They had tension all throughout the trip, getting her in trouble and now having to have a mandatory "behavioral conversation."

When he entered the office, he closed the door quietly and turned to face her. His face was stone cold, unreadable and harsh. She bit her lip and fidgeted in her lap, picking at her nailbeds.

He sat down in front of her and cleared his throat. "Is this what you wanted?" He questioned her, catching her off guard. "I don't understand?" She responded, her tone rising at the end a bit too high for her liking.

"I'm a profiler, Y/N. It's my job to study behavior. What did you think you would get by throwing tantrums?" His words made her squirm, understanding what he was referring to.

She didn't respond, looking down at her legs and trying not to drown in humiliation. He chuckled and stood up, making his way behind her. He slowly started to knead her shoulders, earning a quiet gasp from her lips.

"I know, Sweetheart. You just want to be a good girl, yeah?" He cooed, adding more pressure and making her moan. She nodded and squeezed her thighs together. "Th-this is inappropriate." She mumbled between quiet groans and he smiled down at her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"You don't seem to care about what's appropriate or not, don't start pretending now." He whispered and she melted, her hands clawing at her knees.

His thumbs pressed into her neck, pressing nerves within and making her recoil, an unexpected moan bellowing out of her. He quirked a brow and raised one of his hands around the back of her neck.

"Well, that was interesting." He remarked before squeezing down on the pressure points, forcing her to curl up, such an intense reaction from such a little gesture.

Incoherent whimpers and whines escaped her lips, her hand buried between thighs as she tried to gain friction. He chuckled and shook his head. "Needy girl."

He jerked her head back, forcing another moan out of her. Her mouth hung open, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed. He loomed over her, spitting into her mouth.

He took his hand away from her neck and spun her chair around, crouching down in front of her with a small smile. "Swallow, pretty girl."

She obeyed, nodding mindlessly as she did. He kissed the top of her knee and then stood up, gesturing for her to do the same. He cupped her cheek and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Go to your office, get all your paperwork done, and then come meet me back here." He looked so comforting, and he felt that way too. "Okay.. I can do that." She spoke barely above a whisper, still flustered from the situation.

He smiled and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. She wanted more, but didn't say anything, just carefully pulled away and walked towards the door.

He grabbed her arm and brought her back to him, her chest flushed with his. "Use your words." He prompted her, and she bit her lip, a small smile of her own growing.

"Kiss me, please."

He leaned down and their lips met, a slow but passionate kiss. His hands slid around her waist and he crossed his wrists above her hips, bringing her impossibly closer.

Her hands cupped his cheeks and he smiled, the warm feeling of her palms making his shoulders relax.

Suddenly, Penelope and Emily barged through the door, David, JJ and Morgan not far behind them. "Dinner at Rossi's-" Penelope started in a cheery voice, but froze when she saw them.

Quickly, Y/N broke away from Hotch, her back to him as she smiled awkwardly. Emily's jaw was practically on the floor, and Garcia gasped.

"Oh my," She whispered, and Morgan glanced over her shoulder, quickly catching on to the situation. "Aaron. Hotchner. Gettin' some lovin' from the newbie is not something I expected." He teased and Y/N felt her face warming, something she was getting used to now at the BAU.

"Guys, it's not-" Aaron started but was quickly cut off by JJ. "This was not something I had on my bingo card this year." She joked as she sped away with Reid, who was quickly mumbling some facts about business hook-ups.

Following in suit, Penelope grabbed the door handle and apologized repeatedly. "Just come find us when you two are done." She said quickly as she slammed the door.

Aaron leaned down and snaked an arm around her, pulling her closer once more. "We'll catch up on this later." He said as he kissed her temple.

"Do I still have to do my paperwork?" She asked in a fake-innocent voice. "Absolutely," He said before leaving soft, bruising kisses down her neck. "But you can wait until tomorrow."

She rested her head back on his chest, breathy moans parting her lips. "That's not fair. I should get special privileges now." She pleaded and he sunk his teeth into her neck, making her gasp.

"You're a smart girl, you can do a little bit of work. I'll even reward you if you do a good job." He teased, squeezing her hip with his free hand. She giggled and moved his face up to kiss him, their lips easily melting together.

"Hurry up you two! This is Y/N's first cooking lesson!" Garcia yelled through the door. Hotch let out a quiet groan as he finally pulled away, placing a few more quick kisses all over the side of her face.

She giggled and hollered back, "We're coming!" He gave a playful tap to her ass and she waited for him to grab his coat before leaving. "I didn't expect that sleeping with my boss would make my co-workers like me so much." She joked and he raised his brows suggestively, collecting his stuff from beside the desk.

"We haven't slept together yet, but that's a great idea for dessert."

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! I finished this at three AM so I'm sorry if its a bit rushed or messy. This is my first Hotch fic so it took me a bit longer to get a decent idea.

Feel free to send in requests! <3 Like, comment, and follow :)

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