#I'll go take a walk up that way at some point. wanna go to the deli anyway. maybe I'll run into some festivities
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lichfucker · 2 years ago
Text
ugh my town's pride fest is today and it's gonna be a whole big Thing and I felt bad about missing it last year (last year was the first one) but I have so much else to do today 😩😩 if things were closer to my house I'd swing by for a while but everything is way downtown 😩😩😩😩😩
9 notes · View notes
lucybellwood · 6 months ago
Text
Lemme tell you a gay little story about an eagle.
Our town (~9,000 people) has a couple garages, but there's a big one on the main drag. My family has been going there for decades. I drive past it every day.
There used to be a huge pine tree on the corner of their lot, but last year it became a hazard and had to be taken down.
Shortly thereafter I drive by and see they've hired a guy to chainsaw sculpt the stump into a bald eagle.
Tumblr media
Birds own my heart, but nationalism makes me twitchy. I withhold outright condemnation of the eagle, but I'm skeptical. (The original owner—an objectively Good Dude—sold the business to a younger couple a few years ago, and I don't have any knowledge of their whole deal.)
Then it turns out someone on staff is really into making costumes for the eagle. Every holiday. Every month. Stuffed turkey, witch costume, menorah headpiece, bunny ears. These people love to dress their bird.
Tumblr media
The changing of the eagle suit becomes a source of joy every time I drive through town.
Until June, when the eagle is bare.
Now look, maybe I'm expecting too much asking my garage to celebrate Pride. But this is a small town. Every time I drive by that stupid eagle—this thing that has previously brought me so much joy—I feel hurt. I feel reminded that there are plenty of people in my liberal bubble who don't consider my community worthy of celebration. I drive to work, I feel bad. I drive home, I feel bad. The eagle is mocking me.
Then my A/C quits working.
So I book an appointent to bring my car in—and realize what I have to do.
Tumblr media
I pick all this up at a thrift store for under ten bucks. I print the shirt with some weird heat-transfer fabric crayons I find in a cupboard. I loop gold elastic around the sunglasses and pray they'll fit on the eagle's head. (It is also important to draw your attention to the price of the feather boa.)
Tumblr media
(Nice.)
My reasoning is thus: if I show up with a complete costume ready to go, someone will have to look me in the eye and say "We don't believe in that," at which point I'll be finding a new garage. But if they let me dress the eagle, then people in town get to have the joy I've been missing since the start of the month.
I listen to a lot of hype-up jams on my way over. I hate confrontation. I also don't wanna have to find another garage. I want to believe that this decision isn't actively antagonistic, but I'm not particularly hopeful.
I talk through the A/C issue with the guy at the desk, hand over my keys, then take a deep breath.
"Who's in charge of the eagle?"
"Oh, that's all Dylan. Second bay from the end."
I walk down the row of hydraulic lifts and find a disarmingly smiley middle-aged man pouring fluid through a funnel. I introduce myself and explain that, since the Pride parade is this Sunday and the eagle seems to be missing a costume, I have taken the liberty of making one myself, and can I get his blessing to go put it on?
Dylan grins this absolutely giant grin and goes
"Oh hell yeah."
Tumblr media
So that's what's up now.
Happy Pride.
17K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I WANNA BE YOURS ♡
pairing: logan howlett x puppy-hybrid!fem!reader
summary: logan finds you, a special kind of mutant, out on a mission. when he takes in this puppy girl, you quickly forms a bond to him. he tries to tell himself he doesn't like his new shadow or want the attention, but it gets harder to deny as the two of you grow closer.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), hybrids, breeding kink, praise kink, dumbification, fluff, canon-typical violence, blood, nightmares
a/n: thank you so much to @gor3-hound and @nexysworld for beta reading <33
Tumblr media
Adamantium strains against the skin between Logan's knuckles as his fists collide with his opponents' bodies. His claws beg to come out, to slice through his own skin and into the men he's striking. Despite causing himself pain, it would make this little struggle easier.
Regardless, he reigns in the urge and continues to fight without them. He didn't need them yet. Having a skeleton of impenetrable metal served as the only weapon he needed for right now. These guys taking him on weren't anything special, simple lackeys hired to protect a facility they didn't even understand the operation of.
His unpierced knuckles land a few strikes to one's abdomen, and he pops the other's face with his elbow. He whips his forearm around and slams the first to the ground in a finishing blow. The other man comes crashing down close behind after he connects his fist with the center of his face.
He looks at both of them crumpled up and unconscious on the ground, shaking off the adrenaline from the scuffle with a few rolls of his shoulders. He swipes the set of keys that hang off the belt of one who went down first and reconvenes with the rest of the team at the point of entrance to the next part of this warehouse.
"Did you find a way to open the doors?" Storm asks him. The white-haired woman struts beside him to the large cement doors at the end of the hallway.
Logan holds up the set of metallic keys, giving them a little jingle as his answer.
"Wow, and without shedding any blood. Impressive," Cyclops mocks from behind. Him and Jean walk a couple paces to the back of him, their eyes scanning for any potential hindrances to the mission.
"Night's not over yet, bub."
The four of them reach the door, and fortunately, it only takes a few tests to determine which key is meant for this lock. Before either Logan or Storm can push the barrier open, the door swings back under the force of Jean's telepathy.
They head inside but brace themselves for what they might see. This mission came about after the professor discovered that this building was being used as some kind of location to traffic mutants. The team had dealt with cases like this before, and they were never pretty. Often, the victims were young and struggling, picked up off the street or gathered from false mutant shelters to be sold into a life of experimentation or fetishization.
Upon first glance, this section of the building holds nothing new. The room isn't large in comparison to the others before it and looks more like a connector between the last hallway and another one. It's dark, not much light to get a good look at anything that could be hiding away.
Storm is eager to keep moving along and guides them towards the entrance to the next hallway. His other two teammates overtake him as well and follow behind her.
"I'm gonna sniff around here for a minute. I'll be right behind you," Logan says and waves them forward.
The two women spare him a skeptic glance, but Scott couldn't be more eager to part from him. They head off in the other direction, leaving Logan alone in the quiet between these four walls.
He just wanted to be sure there was nothing here, whether it be something he could help or something meaning to do them harm. Though he kind of hoped it was the latter. He never felt very good at the 'saving' part of being on this team. Let him go in a room full of threats, and he was guaranteed to be successful. He'd take every last one down in record time and not even have to think twice about it. But give him one person to comfort and tell that everything is gonna be ok, and that would have him breaking a sweat. It's not that he couldn't do it; he simply had to work at it. He didn't have to work at being a weapon.
Treading over the pavement cautiously, Logan's eyes sweep over the few vacant shelves and lonely crates. The room truly seemed unoccupied. He could probably only justify a few more feet before having to go join the rest of the team. But then he sees it.
A cage towards the back of the room, a tarp over the top. It sat near a smaller door he hadn't noticed before. He wasn't too concerned with going in just yet. First he wanted to see if anything was confined behind those thin black bars.
It was larger than a simple pet kennel but too small to give the impression that held anything monstrous. He walks closer to it. No sound came from it nor could he see any movement, but his curiosity had been triggered. He had to know why this thing had been secluded.
Once he's close enough, he crouches down and pushes away the rough white material draped over it. His fingers undo the latch and open the door so he could get a better look inside.
He peers in and is met with a pair of eyes staring back at him out of the darkness. His first instinct is to back up and get into a defensive position, but whatever's inside doesn't give him the chance.
You lunge at him and knock him flat onto his back.
He hits the cement with a grunt, and his claws cry out to him again. He could easily unsheathe them and tear whatever you were to shreds. But before he does this, he realizes that this isn't an attack. He's not in any kind of pain. In fact, nothing is really happening to him. All you were doing was... sniffing him?
He could hear your rapid inhales and exhales as your nose trailed along the collar of his white tank top. Straining his neck back as much as he can, he finally gets a good look at you. You were human - smaller than most with wide, curious eyes - but you also had floppy ears erupting from your scalp and a long tail coming from your backside that was whipping back and forth.
Even with all the different kinds of mutants he'd seen, he couldn't help thinking this was bizarre at first glance. He knew it was possible for mutations to express physically even though most were internal. For god's sake he had literal claws and knew multiple people who were straight up blue. But he'd never seen anything like this.
You looked like just a mix of canine and human. In honesty, you were pretty cute. You didn't look like the type of thing someone would shout 'freak' at from across the street. Hybrid was probably a more accurate descriptor than mutant. Either way, he didn't want you on top of him.
"Quit it," he growls before grabbing your waist and pushing you off. Based on the fact that you weren't attacking, he assumes you're a victim rather than a perpetrator. He rises to his feet to stand above you, ready to fight just in case. "What the hell are you supposed to be?"
You sit there, tail still wagging despite his rough temperament. Your eyes have that gleam that likens your appearance to a puppy even more than your ears or tail do. He realizes you might not be able to talk or something, but he doesn't get too far with that thought before you speak.
"A mutant. Like you."
His eyes narrow.
"Yeah? How do you know I'm a mutant?" he asks. He hadn't shown you his claws and you hadn't seen his skin magically stitch itself back together. Maybe you were on the other side of this mission.
"I can smell it," you answer.
That makes his eyebrow slowly raise. "Smell it?" he says.
You nod. "Mutants smell different than humans," you say.
You rise to your feet and stand next to him. Leaning in again, you smell his arm. Your head moves down his bicep and to his elbow and forearm. He pulls his limb away with a scowl, but you'd already had a chance to register the scent that'd caught your attention.
"You smell metallic too," you say.
So your canine traits weren't just physical. Logan knew you weren't lying, having an enhanced olfaction himself. He'd just never met someone else who also had that ability.
"Your mutation is basically just being an overgrown dog then?" he asks with a bemused expression, "You like playing fetch? Want me to call you a good girl?"
You can't help the automatic twitch in your tail when you hear that phrase, but your expression darkens as if a storm cloud had formed inches above those folded ears. 
"I'm not a dog. If I'm a dog, are you like a robot since you have metal in you?" you huff and cross your arms.
A sharp puff of air comes from his nostrils at your attempted retort. "Robot isn't exactly what they call me."
You grumble and roll your eyes. Your tail had gone still behind you and hung between your legs.
He continues to stare down at you, trying to decide what to do next. Even though you were a mutant, you didn't seem to be a fighter or have any skills that would be useful in combat. He wasn't just going to leave you here, but he didn't know how big a risk it would be to let you tag along.
"What are you doing here? Did someone lock you in that cage, or is that just where you spend your free time?" he asks.
"Someone took me and locked me in there," you say, your pout deepening.
"For how long?"
You shrug. Logan has the urge to roll his eyes just as you did, but he can tell your lack of knowledge is genuine.
"You don't know how long you were in there?" he prompts.
"No. Maybe like... a couple weeks or something. I don't know. It's hard to keep track."
Of course. Just like a puppy, you had a poor concept of time. He shakes his head and rubs his hand over his face. It did look like you'd been captive for a few weeks. You weren't in the best shape and had bruises littering your body. Your clothes were dirty and torn at the hems. As annoying as he found you in the few minutes he'd known you, he knew you didn't deserve this treatment. Locking a cute little thing like you in a cage was plain cruelty.
"Alright. Well what's your name? I'm Logan," he sighs.
You tell him, but just as the last syllable leaves your lips, footsteps burst into the room from the direction of the hallway.
Scott and Jean round the corner, clearly looking for their teammate. Logan turns around to see the new arrivals and relaxes when he recognizes the man in the visor and the redhead beside him. 
"There you are. We thought you took off or something," Scott mocks casually.
He opens his mouth to respond, but the words dissolve when he feels a thud against his back. 
You don’t recognize the people who'd just shown up, so you hide yourself behind the man who found you. Pressing yourself against his back, you cautiously tilt your head to his side to peek at Scott and Jean. Your fingers clutch the fabric of Logan's tank top so tight they threaten to poke little holes in the ribbed material.
"What- what are you doing?" he grunts and tries to look over his shoulder at you. The way you were latched onto him prevented him from turning around fully. He lifts one of his arms to see your eyes scoping out the potential danger in front of him.
"Get- C'mon get off. They're not gonna hurt you," he continues, brushing you off by reaching back and lightly tugging your hair.
You stumble to the side, and he manages to grab your shoulders and walk you in front of him. He holds you there, presenting you to Scott and Jean. The way your ears pin back to your head makes him feel a little guilty about making you confront the strangers so directly, but they weren't gonna do anything to you. Assuming they were gonna rescue you and take you back to Xavier's, you'd have to get used to prying eyes and meeting new people.
Both Scott and Jean look at you curiously, Jean with less confusion than Scott. Clearly, he had a similar thought process to Logan while the woman next to him could sense that you were a mutant and what your abilities were.
"I found her in that cage back there," he explains.
The two of them nod. They take a few more moments to simply observe you before they move closer and ask for your name. You give it just like you had to Logan. They nod again and then begin running through a similar routine of questions. Theirs are more detailed though and manage to coax more information out of you.
Your responses give them a quick little rundown of you. You fit the profile of the people they usually found on these missions. You're young, early 20s, struggling because getting a job was nearly impossible with your ears and tail. You had no family. They'd given you up after your mutation began to manifest. Everyone thinks puppies are cute, but apparently, no one wanted a human child that shared features with them. You'd been taken from the shelter you were staying at like most others who found themselves in this situation.
As you answer each one posed to you, Logan feels you subtly sinking back against him. Your back meets his abdomen like two magnets slowly being pulled together. Despite the annoyed look on his face, he doesn't say anything or pull away.
When the brief interrogation comes to a close, Scott relays to Logan that they had found other victims in another part of the facility. Storm was with them now, guiding them to the extraction point where they'd be taken to safety. The four of you just had to follow along.
Scott and Jean lead the way. Logan follows behind and you trot along beside him. He notices you're staying close to him in particular.
"Did the guys who took you say anything else about why they wanted you?" he asks. The fact that you were kept separate was still lingering in his mind. To him it didn't mean anything good.
You shrug and look up at him. "They didn't really talk to me that much unless they were being mean or spitting at me. Or kicking the cage," you say.
You say it like it's casual, but he can tell it hurts. He knows how it feels to an extent. All mutants do. Not many people will openly talk shit about a guy with metal claws, but the sentiment is still there. The idea that you're inferior. That something is wrong with you. That you don't belong in this life.
He just nods, not knowing much else to offer as comfort. "Did you ever overhear them talking about you? Any reason they wouldn't have put you with the others?"
"I think they wanted to figure out if there was more of me. Or if they could make anymore at least," you say after taking a moment to think, "Cause you know. Guys like the whole puppy thing. Makes me worth more I guess."
He cringes at the ugly picture you paint with those words.
The group of you continues walking, footsteps being the only sound in the hallway. Your tail had started wagging again which makes him feel a little better about not offering anything in terms of reassurance. But when you reach the room where the other victims had been, your tail comes to a halt and droops between your legs.
A party of men is spread throughout the area. They walk around scanning the now empty space, visibly incensed at their captives being freed. You slide yourself against Logan's back again, but you don't try to peek at them like you did with Scott and Jean. It doesn't take much to figure out that these are the ones who kept you in that cage.
They hear the team and you approaching and turn to face you. Despite your efforts to hide, they spot you before you're completely concealed behind the bulk of Logan's muscular frame. The one closest scowls at your attempt.
"I'm guessing the three of you know what happened to the things we had in here?" he says, sarcasm lacing each word.
"You could say that. And those people are long gone by now, so it's probably best you move on," Scott answers. His fingers rise to his temple in preparation to operate his visor.
The men don't seem to be threatened. The amalgamation of them tightens, forming a more crowded cluster.
"Yeah, you're probably right. But you're not leaving with that one," the same one says and gestures to you hiding, "She stays here."
"Not gonna happen, bub," Logan responds so quickly it surprises even himself.
His teammates also look interested in his seeming budding attachment to you, but they know better than to squabble in front of adversaries.
You are the only one the words don't strike in any sort of way, but that's because you didn't totally hear them. You're too busy trembling, hoping with everything you had that Logan wouldn't force you in front of him again and then kick you into the group of guys.
But obviously, that doesn't happen. There's more arguing that you don't hear because you choose to tune it out. You can sense Logan becoming more agitated and the air around everyone becoming more tense. Your body grows more rigid, your ears glued back to your scalp. You just want this to be over.
As these thoughts whirl through your mind, the arguing comes to a head, and Logan launches away from you. You feel naked without his large body shielding yours. 
Scott and Jean aid him. Your first inclination is to turn the other direction and just try to stay out of the way. You weren't confident in your combat skills. If you could seriously fight, you probably wouldn't have gotten snatched up. You didn't want to be the reason any of these people who were trying to help you got hurt.
But then you see someone coming up behind Logan brandishing a knife. It's out of your control, the way your muscles go taut and your lip curls back. You'd only ever been in a real fight once before in your life, and you don't remember feeling this vicious. You spring up behind the man, finding where his shoulder meets his neck and biting down hard.
The cries of agony and grunts of anger seem to go on forever. The smell of blood invades your nostrils as you deal with your target. He'd fallen to the floor when your teeth sunk into his flesh. You feel him thrashing underneath you as you rip and tear, but you don't stop until he's gone still. You then pull off and wipe your mouth, twisting around to sit on the abdomen of your incapacitated enemy.
Logan also had no difficulty dealing with the men coming at him. There were just more of them, so he took a little longer. After one last thud of a body crumpling to the floor, only heavy breathing sounds through the warehouse.
Jean and Scott seem fine. They stand there checking each other over, and you see them share a brief kiss. You glance over towards Logan next and decide to return to his side.
He's alone. The sounds of panting are mostly coming from him. His body glistens, muscles lightly coated in perspiration. His scent is stronger to you now, and it only grows more overwhelming as you approach him. Men lie at his feet with pools of blood around them, presumably the same crimson liquid that stains his hands, wrists, and forearms in streaks.
You make your next move without thinking. Coming up to his side, trying in vain to avoid getting your ratty socks soaked with blood, you press your cheek against his bicep and snake your arms around his.
He then looks down at you. His eyebrows raise at the blood that coats your mouth and chin and trails down your shirt. You hadn't seemed like any type of predator before. Your presence was more akin to a puppy that'd be torn apart by wolves than anything that could do anyone harm.
"How'd you do that?" he asks.
Your finger rises and hooks under your upper lip, pulling it back to reveal your canines, sharper than a normal person's.
He nods and watches you with some mixture of curiosity, irritation, and fondness.
"Pretty good," he says simply.
You beam at the praise, blood-stained lips parting into a wide smile. He feels your tail wag harder and brush against the back of his leg.
The touch is nice. It makes him more conscious of the way you're still holding onto him, your hand curled around his muscle and your hip against his. He's not sure what it is. A silent thank you, a note of understanding, or a pledge of loyalty.
But he doesn't need a thank you, someone to understand him or devote themself to him. He's just doing what he's supposed to.
He slides his arm out of your clutches and gently pats you on the head.
"C'mon, let's get going," he says and starts walking towards the exit.
You trot wordlessly behind him, which he's grateful for. But more than that, he's just happy Scott didn't have anything to say about your sudden bond to him.
Tumblr media
Once the jet picked you up from the extraction point, the trip back to the school was a breeze. You mostly keep to yourself while trying to stick close to Logan. He sits you next to him and cleans up your face, but you sleep for most of the actual traveling time to the destination.
You hadn't realized how tired you were until the seat hit your back and the buckles of the seat belt latched over your chest. With that manifestation of security, your eyes began drooping and your head was drifting to your shoulder like it was your center of gravity.
Logan's voice is what wakes you up. It's unclear to you how much time has passed, but that doesn't bother you. You feel him gently jostling you before unbuckling the straps across your chest. He calls your name a few times until your bleary eyes open and focus on his face.
"There you are," he says, "C'mon. We're here."
You still watch him without saying a word. Your hand rubs over your face to try and pull yourself closer to being awake. He watches you before offering his hand.
"I'm not carrying you, so you need to get up," he says in a tone you were becoming familiar with. It sounded irritated but not directly at you. Like this man was just in a constant state of being pissy about something.
You take the offer regardless and let him pull you to your feet. The two of you exit the jet together, him helping you out to ensure you don't trip on the gap between the ramp and the ground.
Once you're out, your eyes widen. You expected a boarding school to be pretty fancy, but this was nicer than any place you'd ever been. The walls stretched up the sky, crafted with bricks and decorated with large glass windows. The path there was paved and bordered with kept plants. You could see beyond that though. The large expanse of the property. So much space to run and do things.
Logan watches your reaction with amusement. "It's a lot to take in when you first get here," he says.
You nod, and your eyes continue to dart around and absorb the sight of everything. Storm and Jean lead the others who were saved off to another part of the building to be reunited with their families or taken back to their lives or even given verifiable resources. But you don't want to go with them.
You grab Logan's hand and look up at him, shaking your head.
His first reaction is to try and pull his hand free of you, but you have a tighter grip than expected. "What? What's the matter?" he asks you while still trying worm his hand out of your finger's lock.
You don't know how to articulate it because what you want is very simple. You want to stay with him. You want to stay here. You don't want to go back out to the world where people point and laugh at you or turn you away from everything. You just don't know how to say that without it seeming weird.
Luckily for you, Scott gives you a bit of help. You're not sure if that's his intention or not, but either way, you're grateful for the help.
"Maybe we should take her to the Professor. He might want to see about her mutation or ask her about that stuff back there," he tells Logan. You can tell from the way Scott speaks that he doesn't really like him too much.
Logan thinks about it for a moment before nodding. Before leading you there, he uses his other hand to pry your fingers off of him. You frown at the loss of connection and shoot him a glare. That brings an actual smile to his face.
"Follow along, pup. Don't need you getting lost," he says as he turns to guide you down the halls of the school.
The sun hadn't even risen, so not too many people occupied the common rooms. You catch sight of a few. They stare back at you, but unlike what you're used to, they don't look at you with disdain or mocking. It's simple, innocent curiosity. The only thing that seems to worry them is the bright red stain going down the front of your shirt.
Tumblr media
Inside the room had been an older guy in a wheelchair. The professor talked the nicest out of all the men you'd been around today. When he looked at you, you felt like he understood you. He didn't even seem perplexed like Scott or Logan had. He'd merely said you were "interesting."
He talked to you for a while. He asked similar questions similar to the ones you already answered, but the third round of them got even deeper than the last two. Once he revealed that he could enter your thoughts if he wanted, that made a lot of sense.
Though he didn't really need his ability to understand you. Your experiences were written all over your face, practically sewn into the seams of your clothes.
He could see how, like every mutant, you led a life dominated by rejection. But in a different way than most others of your kind, you were vaguely familiar. Seeing someone with a tongue ten feet long or with blue skin or claws was jarring. It was weird.
But you - you look like a cute puppy. You walk the line between disturbing and endearing.
Charles can also see how you long for belonging even deeper than most. It's as if your mutation gives you the drive to seek out affection, for someone to devote yourself to. He can tell this by the way you linger around Logan.
If he moved an inch, you followed in the same direction. If he looked away, your eyes followed along. You were only settled if he was looking at you, not in danger of leaving your vicinity.
After talking to you for a while, hearing about your abilities and getting to understand your personality, he offers to let you stay at the school. He tells you it might be beneficial for you, and if you don't like it, you're welcome to leave anytime. It's only meant to give you a chance to understand your gifts and learn to control them and use them for good.
Of course, you accept. It wasn't even a question.
"Wonderful. Scott, show her to the extra rooms she can stay in and the shower so she can clean up a bit," Charles says. He watches as your eyes flit to Logan and then Scott. He also sees Scott's uncertainty as to why he was given this job.
But he nods and gestures for you to follow him, which you reluctantly do.
You trail him silently up the stairs, and he gives you a little guide to where everything is. He gestures at the direction of the student wing and the staff wing and then takes you to the latter. He points out the different bedrooms and grabs you a change of clothes on the way to the bathrooms.
He's nice to you. A little stiff, but he still smiles and laughs softly at quips he makes or your skeptical reactions to things. You want to ask him about his sunglasses, but you figure that'd be rude so you refrain. When he leaves you at the bathroom door, he tells you to just call if you need anything cause he's right down the hall.
Stepping inside, you peer around the expansive room. You'd never seen a bathroom so large. It was nice like everything else was in this place. The counter was spotless and smooth. The tile was sleek with a soft mat beneath your feet at the door and waiting for you in front of the shower.
You undress yourself quickly and turn on the water, waiting for it to heat before stepping inside. There's some products on the shelf inside that you use. You lather the soap on your hands and rub it over yourself fast. It felt really good, especially since you hadn't had a proper shower while being held captive. But you still work at a sped up pace. Although the novelty of everything had impressed you at first, you were beginning to yearn to be by Logan again. It wasn't a need that would make you lose control, just a little itch like a bug crawling up the path of your veins.
Tumblr media
Downstairs, Charles kept Logan behind in his office so the two could talk. They briefly recap the mission before moving to the subject that was the true reason for the extended conversation.
"It seems she's quite taken with you," the older man starts simply.
"I guess," Logan responds, his voice unamused with the idea.
Charles huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He goes to say something else, but the other man carries on the conversation himself.
"She'll get over it. She's like a little duck following around the first person she sees," he says and crosses his arms.
"I think you underestimate her intelligence, Logan. She's not a helpless animal-"
"I know that," he interjects quickly.
"She's one of us. She's formed an attachment to you for whatever reason. I would like her to stay here for at least for a little while to examine the traits of her mutation. I've never seen any that so closely mimic an already existing animal," he explains, "But I want to know that you're ok with that."
Logan scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be? That doesn't have anything to do with me."
"While she's here, she's most likely going to want to be around you. I just wanted to make sure that's not something you're wholly uncomfortable with."
"Please. I can handle it," he dismisses.
Charles watches him, ever-entertained by how hard he tries to present the idea that he's unaffected. 
"If you say so," he says, "Just try not to scare off too quickly."
"I'll play nice," he says.
A few more words, and he's dismissed. He turns on his heel and heads out the same doors he entered. Just as he does, you glide down the stairs into his field of vision, tail wagging lazily behind you over the waistband of the sweats Scott gave you.
When you see him, it swishes a bit faster and your ears perk up. His eyes narrow.
"What are you doing down here? Didn't Scott show you where to go?" he asks.
You nod and prance down the remaining steps. Truthfully, you'd been seeking the man before your eyes, but you couldn't just say that.
"Am I not allowed to look around?" you ask.
His eyes remain hard on your face. "Aren't you tired? Mauling that guy didn't take anything out of you?"
A subtle pout forms on your lips, and you consider retreating back to the bedroom you'd been given. He clearly wasn't in the mood for you right now.
Logan sees the reaction his words brought on. He feels that little sliver of guilt shifting around inside him. Maybe his phrasing hadn't been the best... but then again why did he give a shit?
"How about we just get you back to bed? I'll show you around more tomorrow," he suggests.
You take what you can get and nod, your features slightly elevating at the form of peace he offers you. He retraces your steps up the stairs and down the hall with you on his heels. He spots the room Scott had picked for you. The door was ajar from how you'd left it to go find him.
He leads you inside but remains in the doorway himself. There really wasn't any reason to stay, so he should probably be leaving...
"Have you been here a long time?" you ask suddenly.
His eyes land on you again. You were perched on the end of your bed that was still fully made up, the comforter tucked in and everything.
"What?" he asks.
"Have you been here long? Scott said he's been here since he was a teenager," you say.
"Oh. No. Only a little while," he says. "I'm still pretty new here too."
That makes you happy, it's obvious from the hope that gleams in your eyes. "Are you like a teacher too? Or... something else?"
"What would that something else be?" he asks with a smirk, taking a few steps into the room with you, "Having a hard time picturing me teaching?"
"Well I just mean-" you try to justify before laughing a little, giving in, "Yeah. I can't really see it."
"Me neither. I'm not a teacher. I just help out sometimes," he says.
He walks even closer to you, causing your head to tilt up to look at him. Now you really looked like a puppy.
This close, he was all you could smell. You could see every individual hair on his forearm. It felt as though you could hear the strong beat of his heart. His eyes pierced into you from above, and you wondered if he was observing you in a similar manner.
"You gonna sleep on top of these blankets?" he asks.
The mention of something else besides him snaps you out of your little Logan-centric daze. You look around at the bedding and then back up at his head. The two styled points of dark hair look like he has two ears of his own mirroring yours.
"No. I'll fix them," you say and stand up to tug them free, "I don't need you to tuck me in."
"I wasn't offering to. I just don't want you getting up and trying to 'look around' again. Don't need you getting lost and wandering to my bed."
The idea brings heat to your cheeks and neck. It sounded nice for so many reasons. But the bed you had now outmatched the hard bottom of the cage you'd been sleeping on, so you weren't going to try and swing for more.
Once the comforter and sheets are peeled down, you climb back on the bed and sit against the pillows. There's a small pause. A puddle of silence pooling between the two of you. You don't know what else to ask, but you feel if you don't say anything he's gonna leave. So you pull out the first thing you can think of.
"What is your actual mutation?"
His brows rise with interest, and he closes the gap between you by sitting on the edge of your bed. Curiosity shines from his eyes onto you, silently questioning why you wanted to know.
"I know you're not actually a robot, but I can still smell the metal and stuff. What does it do?" you ask.
"The metal isn't my mutation," he says.
He raises his fist about a foot away from your face. His fingers are balled up tight against his hand. You cock your head, wondering what he's showing you.
Before you can ask any questions though, three shining metal claws emerge from between his knuckles. They come out slowly, a pace prolonged enough to be considered teasing. Your eyes widen at the sharp points and you scoot back, smooshing the pillows against your head board. All you can wonder is if he didn't take them out earlier or if you really had missed something so monumental.
His laugh rises in volume. "Relax, I'm not gonna cut you."
The claws come to a halt when fully extended. You wait just in case something else is going to happen, but nothing does. You bring your finger up and poke at the hard surface. They were so beautiful but unnatural too. You'd never seen anything like them.
"But I didn't see anywhere for them to come out?" you say softly.
He flexes his hand and extends his fingers, retracting the claws much quicker than they appeared.
"There is no place for them to come out of," he says and offers you his hand.
You frown at the little cuts the sharp rods left in their wake, but like little zippers, they close up. You blink at his hand. All evidence of his mutation was gone.
"So you can heal? And you have claws?" you say more to yourself than him, "Does it still hurt when they come out?"
He nods and watches you examine his hand.
Upon seeing his confirmation, you can't even help what you do next. You pull his limb a little closer and kiss each spot where a claw had emerged. Every phantom cut gets a soft smooch left where it would soon reappear.
"What are you doing?" Logan asks, her arm tensing up on instinct.
You glance at his face before releasing his hand. "Oh... sorry," you say and shrug sheepishly.
To your surprise, he doesn't scold or chastise you, doesn't get up to leave in a hurry. He simply pulls his hand back and gives you another look before saying good night.
"Get some good sleep. Like I said, I'll show you around tomorrow," he says.
You slip down in the bed, resting your head on the plush pillows and pulling the blanket up over your form. He heads out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
A deep exhale leaves his lungs. He shakes some of that tension loose. What had he been doing? It almost felt like some different person had taken over him in there. Another version of himself that didn't have to be reminded to 'play nice.'
Tumblr media
The few weeks you're supposed to stay at the school stretches out into a longer timeframe. It'd now been a few months since that day he found you in the cage and set you free. Though that month or so you'd spent locked up turned out to be worth it because you now had a place that made you happier than anywhere you'd lived before. You had a family.
You had Jean and Storm who were helping you train so you could one day go on missions with them. You had the Professor who taught you more about yourself than you had ever thought to ask. Scott was there too.
And of course, you had Logan.
Logan. As much as he tried to seem reluctant, to appear uncaring and nonchalant, he had grown to enjoy your company more with each passing day that you followed him like a shadow.
It was irritating at first. Before, he'd been able to drift through the school relatively unnoticed. Now, every single place he went, he was trailed by whoosh whoosh whoosh. The sound of your tail going back and forth. Anything he tried to do was accompanied by the feeling of two glimmering eyes trained on him. He'd tried to brush you off, but you didn't waver.
"Don't you have anything better to do than stalk me?" he'd ask, shooting a side eye your way.
"No," you'd respond.
"Well, find something."
"I don't wanna."
And who was he to argue with that?
In a way, the bond you seemed to have formed with him was flattering. It seemed like he could do anything, and you'd never view him as anything but the greatest creation to grace this earth. So he just lets you follow him around. He assumes after a while, you'll see him for what he is and lose interest, or you'll just grow bored of him and find something else to be the object of your obsession. Though so far that day hadn't come.
After a while of you always at his side, he started to cave and include you in his little routines.
One day he was doing sit ups at the foot of his bed while you sat nearby. His body rose and fell, abdomen kissing his thighs in regular intervals. But every time he came up, he found himself looking over at you.
"Hey, pup," he said, the nickname he developed for you coming out effortlessly, "C'mere for a second."
Your ears perked up. You weren't usually involved in what he was doing. You scoot over to him and kneel at his feet, awaiting a command. You could be so obedient sometimes it nearly made him feel guilty.
"You wanna help me with something?" he asked. As he expected, you nodded right away, so he continued, "Just hold my feet down. These only work if your feet stay flat. So just make sure they do."
You gave him another dutiful nod and got in position. Your hands held his feet down as he worked out just like he asked. Each time he came up off the ground, you looked at him with a big goofy smile.
That was just the first thing. From then on, the two of you actually did stuff together rather than just going about your things nearby one another. He'd help you train, and you'd help him clean Scott's bike when he finished using it.
Tonight, exhaustion aches in your bones after running around all day. On top of that, you'd had so much stuff to do yourself that you'd barely even seen Logan all day.
When the sun's finally down and the students have all retired to their bedrooms, you find him in the living room. He's leaned back into the couch, nursing a bottle of something. You assume it's not beer since you're at a school, but with how often he lamented about that limitation, you wouldn't put it past him to sneak one in.
You hop over the arm rest and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from him. He looks over at you, not displeased with your presence.
"There you are. I thought you finally got tired of me and found someone else to bother," he teases.
"I could never do that," you reply with the same playful cadence. You scoot a little closer. "I was just super busy today. The Professor was having me talk to some of the students, and then Scott needed me to grab something for him from the shed. It was really hard to find, so it took a while. Then I had to do my own training, and Jean made me try on some sizes for my suit..."
As you chatter on about your day, Logan finds himself nodding along, even occasionally reacting to what you say. He's not rolling his eyes or telling you to leave him alone. It's weird, but he can't say he wants to feel differently.
"Sounds like they're working you like a dog," he says when your story has reached an end.
Your face darkens like it had on the day he met you, shooting him a quick glare as a reminder not to say the forbidden d-word.
"Right, sorry," he corrects, "It just sounds like they're running you ragged. Don't let 'em work you too hard. Scott can get his own shit."
He still didn't understand your hang up about that word. He could call you pup, puppy, or any variation of that, and you'd react with nothing but joy. But utter d-o-g in your vicinity, and he felt like he was at risk of getting his throat chomped on. Luckily, it only takes his small apology for your normal demeanor to make its return.
"It's ok. I don't mind helping. I like having stuff to do," you say and shrug.
"I thought your 'stuff to do' was watching over me," he jokes and leans forward, placing his bottle down on the table.
You're not sure why, but you take that as an invitation to scoot even closer to him.
"I thought you wanted me to find better stuff to do."
"Fair," he chuckles, "Maybe this is one of those things where I'm not gonna realize I miss something until it's gone."
He brings his hand up from the back of the couch to massage the base of one of your ears. The soft fluff feels almost luxurious against the rough pads of his finger tips. He knew you loved the sensation. It had been an accidental discovery, something he did one time as a joke. But the way you melted into the touch had been more than just funny to him.
You lean into it now and nuzzle his palm.
"It was just one day. It's not like a permanent new routine."
"For now. Then soon enough, I'm gonna catch you trailing somebody else with hearts in your eyes," he says and gently tugs your ear.
You laugh at the tug and the stupid words. "You will not. Plus, I don't have hearts in my eyes for you."
"Oh really?" he teases. He leans in, his face hovering a couple inches away from yours. "I think I can see some now."
The two of you stay locked in a stare for a few lingering seconds. He'd never been this close to you before. You'd never heard his voice lower in that way, sounding almost desiring. Heat starts to crawl up from your belly through your chest to your neck. Before it can reach your cheeks, you turn your head to face the tv.
"Shut up," you huff, choosing to play the interaction off as a joke.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see his grin. He chuckles and his arm returns to its place behind you, above your shoulders. Quiet blooms between the two of you, kept from being total silence only by the hushed noises of the tv set across the room. It doesn't feel awkward though even with the sudden shyness he'd brought over you.
You angle yourself and lean in so that you're sitting against his side. No words come from him, he simply lowers his arm to sling around your shoulders and keep you there. His thumb idly pets back and forth over the smooth skin of your forearm.
The heat of his body radiates from his side and into you. Makes you feel safe and comfortable. Like you're where you're supposed to be. It's easy to sink into him further and tilt your head to rest on his chest. Before long, your eyes feel a little droopy. Blinking feels sticky, and your mind just wants to retreat to the soft embrace of sleep.
Logan can tell. He's not sure of the feeling this knowledge brings him. Pride? Contentment? Affection? Instead of thinking about it harder, he just pulls you a little closer and lets you drift off. He considers saying something, letting you know he doesn't mind and that you don't have to try and stay up. But nothing comes from him and the quiet continues.
He watches you slowly slip away. Your neck loses the wherewithal to stay upright, and your breaths soften, blowing in and out in a thoughtless rhythm.
The feeling that flows through him takes him by surprise. Pure endearment towards you, not a hint of anything else. He lets you sleep there for the next hour or so. When you're still out cold after that time has passed, he's unsure of his next move. He doesn't want to wake you and shatter the peace that had settled over the room, but he had to head to bed himself and wasn't going to leave you stranded on the couch in the common room.
The light of the tv glows across the two of you as he mulls over his options. When he finally decides, he grabs the remote and shuts the device off, cloaking the room in darkness, spare the distant blinking lights that could be seen through the windows. He rises from the cushions that had molded to cradle his weight, making sure to keep a hand on you to prevent you from slumping over.
This time he doesn't shake you or offer a hand. He reaches around and tucks an arm under your legs. His other supports you across your shoulder blades as he lifts you into his arms. He traverses the furniture with caution, making sure to avoid bumping into a stray corner or tripping on a catch in the rug. Then he moves up the stairs. Your limp body bounces with each step.
He nudges the door open to your bedroom and takes you inside. Your scent seemed to fill the entire room. Every time he took a breath, he got a lungful of the heady smell. Your bedroom was so you now. The way you'd decorated it and splashed your personality over every inch, it'd be hard to believe that just a few months ago it had been so sparse.
What had been a blank bed, covered only by a plain duvet and thin pillows, now held your extra fluffy cushions, a nest of blankets, and your steadily-growing collection of plushies. Trinkets lined your shelves and tables, and you even displayed a few posters over the walls. It was you, all around him.
He walks the few paces to the edge of the mattress before laying your body down on the foamy surface. He drapes a nearby blanket over your form. Even though he's technically accomplished what he meant to, he doesn't leave yet. He lingers like he can't seem to help doing around you.
You're still fast asleep, unaware of the change in locations. He watches a haphazard swallow move through your throat before you settle into the familiar setting.
He finds himself not wanting to go back to his room. He'd been at the school longer than you and never made his own so nice. Really, he didn't think he could make it as nice. But that was just because nothing about him was as nice as you.
When the resolve to leave finally surfaces in him, he reaches out and rubs the base of your ear.
"See you in the morning," he murmurs. Unlike before, the rest of what he wants to say doesn't get tangled up in his throat. "My little puppy girl."
Tumblr media
That night won't leave your head for the next week. It almost feels like a dream. You'd woken up in your bed the next morning, assuming that's what it was. The undeniable change in location was the only thing that made your mind accept it as reality.
In the following days, things stayed the same for the most part, though you would have sworn, Logan acted a little less grumpy around you. Only by a microscopic degree, but enough for you to note the shift.
Nothing that big happens though. You don't even repeat the cuddling incident again. You kind of just assume that it was a one time thing. A nice experience, but not one to be repeated.
The memory of it floats through your mind often though. The pulse of his heart beating against your cheek, how you could hear it in your ear clear as day. Your stomach flutters at the thought of him actively pulling you closer, wanting you that close. You can feel your dedication to Logan blossoming into something more. It was already rooted so deep inside you that you didn't think it was possible, but you could feel it. The branches of reverence spreading in your chest and growing into something closer to adoration.
You could feel it now, sitting next to him on the bench in the school's spacious yard. He'd been tasked with watching some of the students for the afternoon, so of course, you tagged along. Shade speckled his face with alternating blotches of sunlight and gray. The stray beams of light made his eyes glow, and his hair shine all pretty. The sounds of the students practicing their abilities clouds the background of your focus, and they become even more distant when he suddenly turns to you.
"You're staring," he teases with that little smirk of his.
Your eyes flutter at the accusation. "No... I was not."
"Yeah you were. Even worse than usual."
"I just was thinking and zoned out," you defend, turning to face forward.
He hums in acknowledgement, obviously not believing your excuse. "Were you thinking about me?"
"You wish."
"I don't have to wish, puppy. You're not a very good liar."
You really weren't. Your tail swished with each beat of this little back and forth. Your ears pinned back to your head, folded over by the guilt of being caught. Everything you were feeling was made apparent by your supposed 'gifts.'
"Well whatever. Even if I was, it's none of your business," you say. A smile pulls at your lips. Your tells weren't solely from your mutation.
"If you say so," he taunts, one last jab before he returns his attention to the kids he was supposed to be supervising.
Nothing he said hinted at anything more than playful banter, but the way he spoke had them wrapped around your heart like unbreakable restraints. The way he said them made you feel like he wanted it this way. Wanted you to hear that smug cadence in your mind for the next few days. Maybe he found you entertaining. Maybe your emotions were a new game he discovered he liked to play with.
Hours later, you're curled up in your bed, by yourself as per usual. Everyone in the school had gone to bed, you and Logan had parted a while ago yourselves. 
Sleep weighs you down to the mattress, but your ears perk up automatically when they register a distant sound of distress. It's faint. If it happened alone, you would've just assumed it was part of your dream and not done anything else. But more follow it.
Your eyes crack open, still glazed with drowsiness as you come to. You listen for the sounds that disturbed you. For a moment, there's nothing. Just the gentle breeze outside your room and the crickets chirping in the cut grass in the yard.
Then it happens again. A normal person wouldn't be able to hear these sounds. They were reserved for you with your enhanced senses. It sounds like grunting and groaning though you can pick up the pained undertone of fear. The worst part of it to you is that immediately you know it's coming from Logan.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, freeing them from the fleece warmth of your blankets. Padding out of the room, you cross the hall to his. You open the door in the specific way so that it doesn't creak and then shut it behind you. Your feet are gentle on the hardwood as they bring you closer to the source of the noise.
Once you're in, it's no mystery. Logan lays on his back in the center of his bed, shoulders twitching in agitation. He mumbles to himself, different words you can't make out. Your head cocks at the sight.
Approaching the side of his bed, you just watch him for a few more moments. When he doesn't wake up, you feel the urge to intervene. It felt wrong watching him suffer. Something pulled at your insides to help him.
You reach out and nudge his bicep. There's no effect. You do it a few more times but still nothing happens. Finally, you actually grip his shoulder and shake him gently, whispering into the darkness a simple "Logan."
That wakes him. No mistake about it. He gasps and snaps up. His claws come out from his hands without a second thought and slash at you. You hop back right away, tripping over your own feet and crashing onto the ground.
Your pulse thunders in your ears. The adrenaline coursing through you wasn't so much out of fear but rather confusion. Your mind was still a bit bogged by sleep itself, and at this moment, you're less concerned with Logan's reasoning and more so the logistics of a potential fight with him. Even though you had been training for the past several months, you had absolutely zero belief that you'd be able to beat him in a fight. Or even really compete for that matter.
Fortunately for you, it doesn't come to that. His eyes recognize you not long after his fists took the swing. You watch as his face morphs into a handful of different emotions in the span of about five seconds.
"I- what- how- I didn't-" he starts before getting a handle on his ability to speak, "I'm sorry."
Your body starts to come down from the brief high when it's clear he's not going to attack. You feel less wound up and let out a sigh. Your eyes remain inquisitive while gazing at him though. What did he dream about that made him freak out like that?
You guess it's not the best time to ask, so instead of pushing your luck, you push up off the ground and get your footing back. You step up to him at the edge of the bed and stand between his thighs. You plan on asking him if he's ok, but his arms reach out and yank you to his chest before you have the chance.
His hold is tight on you. The little half-hugs he'd given you a couple times before didn't compare at all. His arms were locked around you like they never intended to let go. You could hear him panting in your ear, and you could feel his heart thundering against both of your rib cages like it wanted to be released from its chamber.
"You're not hurt, are you?" he whispers.
You shake your head and wrap your arms around him too. The gesture relaxes him a lot, you can feel the tension seep away.
"Are you ok? I didn't mean to bother you, you just sounded like you needed help," you say at the same volume.
"You didn't bother me. I'm ok. I'm sorry. You don't have to worry about me like that."
His skin is warm and clammy against your own. You gently pat his back as some form of silent reassurance. Even if he wasn't as distraught as he had been a few minutes ago, you could tell the events that occurred were gnawing at him.
One of your hands drifts up, and you thread your fingers in his hair. It's like pulling a lever. He exhales deeply and pushes his face more against your neck.
"I'm sorry, pup," he murmurs.
You nuzzle the side of his head, and your heart nearly stops because he reciprocates this gesture with a few of the softest kisses you've ever felt, placed on your throat.
"I'd never hurt you on purpose. You know that."
You nod. Of course you knew that. And you would never say this to him out loud, but you felt so deeply for him, you weren't sure that your perception of him would have changed had his claws landed the strike on you.
Pulling back your head a little, you nudge his so you can see him. Both of your eyes connect for a moment before you lean in and kiss him. His lips are softer than you'd expected. His scent permeates your senses, but it's not one of booze or the brand of cigars he smokes. That's there, but your nostrils sense deeper. You could smell his essence. The way his blood runs hot as your tongue swipes into his mouth.
The kiss grows deeper. No words are said. Neither of you need them. Your fingers tighten on the dark locks of brown hair, and you climb into his lap. His hands land on your hips almost instantaneously. The only sounds between the two of you are sharp exhales and shallow inhales.
"What are you doing, bub?" he murmurs against your lips, breaking the silence. Despite his questions, he wasn't stopping you. Not at all. His fingers dig into your flesh and pull you a little closer.
"Wanna make you feel better. And show you that I know."
Tumblr media
You weren't sure what you and Logan were after that night. Boyfriend-girlfriend, friends with benefits, or maybe simple companions. You didn't really care because regardless of the answer, you were happy.
Kissing was the only thing that transpired that night, but that was ok with you. It didn't dampen your outlook on your relationship with him in the slightest. You'd made out for a while, tangling up with each other and the sheets before he pulled back. He didn't want to go further when you both were coming down from all that emotion. And you agreed. You didn't need more. You felt elated from receiving that much affection in the first place. Your tail whacked against the mattress as you curled up to his side and put your head on his sternum to rest.
The next morning though, he had been ready for more. Once he fell back asleep, his dreams had been much more pleasant. He woke up stiff and aching for you, and you were more than happy to provide some relief.
You alleviated that throbbing between his legs multiple times that morning, and you'd been taking care of it at least once a day every day since then.
The team could tell something was going on between the two of you, a deeper bond than your initial affinity for Logan. You walked with a faster wag in your tail, and he seemed less jagged at the edges. Others were less likely to get cut now if they reached for him the wrong way.
Each of your steps also came with a small jingle now since Logan had given you his dog tags. You'd been lying against his side, basking in the afterglow of one of your escapades when he dangled the metal chain between the two of you.
"Want you to have these, pup," he rasped.
You'd looked at him with curiosity swimming in your eyes. Excitement mingled there too though.
He chuckled at the look before boosting your head so he could put them on you. 
"I know my pretty puppy doesn't want to wear a collar for me yet," he teased, getting a pout out of you, "I just want you to have something of mine. You don't even have to wear 'em if you don't want to."
You'd worn them every moment since he gave them to you. Wouldn't take them off for anything. The physical representation of your attachment stayed secured around your neck at all times. The way it made you feel had you thinking a collar would be a pretty nice next step.
It'd been just over a month since you became something more with him. Your tail zips back and forth as you clean up the training room, thinking all of this over. A little smile rests on your features too. Jean helps out nearby, laughing gently at your mood.
"You have it bad," she teases.
Your head turns, and you grin, exposing those elongated canines. Shrugging, you prance over to help her finish the area she was tidying up.
When the two of you get everything back into shape, you head out into the sleek hallway back towards the main part of the mansion. Your shoes squeak against the tile as you bound towards the doors.
Entering the primary floor from the rooms below always brought a bit of adjustment for your eyes. The lights downstairs shone bright, fluorescent white. Coming back to the soft lamps of the common rooms had you blinking while your pupils scanned the room for Logan.
You catch sight of him standing near the two large doors that acted as entrance to the school. Right now, you can only see him from behind, but you spot Charles next to him. It looks like they're talking to someone, though the former's bulky frame prevents you from seeing who.
Your legs carry you over to the pair. You come up on the side of Logan that Charles doesn't occupy. Tucking yourself under his arm, you look up at him first before your eyes land on the other person speaking.
The sight of her makes your head tilt to the side just the slightest. Every feature on her embodies beauty. Her red hair, similar to Jean's in color, sits slicked back on her head. Deep blue coats every inch of her body. Seductive yellow eyes flit between the two men she's conversing with, and now that you had appeared, they cast to you as well.
You'd seen her before around the mansion once or twice, and you didn't really trust her. She didn't seem like a bad person, but she worked opposite the team. Even though Logan had assured you she was just offering some information about a common goal, you didn't feel confident that Mystique's motives were of such pure intent.
Still, you don't interrupt the in-progress discussion. You stay quietly pressed to Logan's side, tail coasting against the back of his leg. He doesn't wrap his arm around you as tight as normal or rub between your ears like he often did, but he gives you a little pat on the shoulder to acknowledge your presence.
Mystique finishes listening to Charles' point before directing her full attention to you.
"I knew you all wore uniforms, but you two didn't tell me your team had a little mascot too."
You bristle at the comment but try to remain composed. You were better than a thoughtless animal that snapped at a little poke. Charles hadn't even noticed your presence. He looks over at you and realizes what Mystique's quip referred to. He introduces you briefly.
"She's new to the team and is still training, but she's not a mascot," he concludes.
"So more like a stray then? Cute. I never would have guessed you wanted a pet," she says to Logan.
Tension creeps up your spine, and you stand up straight, pulling away from Logan's side.
"I'm not his pet," you huff and look at her. Your pouty way of asserting yourself probably didn't do much to project the image of independence you wanted. "I'm-"
You go to continue, but she cuts you off.
"You really should teach your dog not to bark, Logan. It's not polite."
That sparks a small growl in your throat before you can shut it down. Her eyes widen in amusement which only makes it feel worse for you. The most humiliating part is that you know all of this is inauthentic. She's doing it for the purpose of riling you up, getting you upset and making you feel bad. You know this, but your reaction gets the better of you.
Before you can do anything regrettable, Logan's hand curls over your shoulder. He keeps you rooted where you stand, quelling the flames of conflict before they have a chance to spread.
"Back off," he says, quick and curt with Mystique. He turns to Charles next, still keeping his voice firm. "You don't need me to hear the rest of this. I think I'll let you wrap it up."
Charles nods, knowing it would be better for him to focus on removing you from the potentially volatile situation instead of being another observer for some intel.
Logan guides you away from them, hand moving from your shoulder to the back of your neck as he takes you upstairs. The anger inside you melts away with the growing distance between you and Mystique. Only the stain of embarrassment remained.
"I'm sorry," you say. Your words sound compressed, the weight of your shame hanging off them.
"Don't be. You didn't do anything wrong. She wanted you to get upset, so that's what she got."
The pair of you move through the rest of the hall without another word. You go into your room. Once the door is shut and it's just the two of you between the four walls, you stomp over to the bed and flop down onto the mattress.
Darkness clouds your vision while your face rests against the blankets. Your tail rests against your thigh limply. You hear him coming over and then feel his hand rubbing your leg near the lifeless appendage. The mattress dips as he sits next to you.
"C'mon. You're ok."
You shuffle around so your head is resting in his lap. "I looked pathetic."
He sighs. One of his hands rubs your back while the other pets your head. "You did not."
"Yeah I did."
"No. You didn't," he says, "You didn't do anything that bad. No one's gonna think less of you cause you got a little mad about someone talking shit to you."
You know he's right. Everyone here had an experience like that. It's how most of them ended up here, reacting even worse than you had. It still doesn't make you feel any less dumb. A deep exhale seeps from your lungs.
"I just don't understand why everyone looks at me like that. We all get it bad enough from humans, but then some of the others look down on me too. I'm the same as all of you. I don't say Mystique looks like a smurf cause she's blue, so I don't see why I have to get called a pet," you huff.
He smiles a little and scratches your ear, letting you vent.
"Even you guys looked at me different at first. I know you did. I'm not the only mutant with physical stuff. Why does it have to be a whole thing with me?"
"You're just a little different, bub. You confuse people, but it's not your fault. Nothing about you is less than any other mutant. Mystique doesn't even think that. She was trying to get under your skin."
"Yeah..." you say with a little dejection in your tone, "I still just wish people would treat me like normal. Or at least normal for a mutant."
"I know you do, baby," he hums and pats your arm.
By this point, you're far enough away from the harshness of what happened downstairs. You sit up and scoot closer to him crawling into his lap. He wraps his thick arms around you and rubs your back.
"There's my girl," he murmurs and pecks your temple.
You nuzzle him like a puppy seeking more affection from its owner. Your backside rests on his lap, your arms snug around his abdomen.
"I'm just curious though, pup. What's the big thing with being called dog? It's not that different than puppy," he says, a hint of caution in his voice. He figured now was as good a time as any to ask. He knew it was the main part of what Mystique said that set you off.
You don't react with anger or defensiveness which pleases him. Instead, you shrug.
"Cause. Puppy sounds cute. Dog is just so... bleh," you say, "It makes me sound like a gross animal that someone has to wrangle."
His eyebrow rises. You can see the amusement in his eyes, but he successfully kills his laugh before it leaves his throat.
"Mmm. Makes sense. Can't have anyone thinking you're gross."
"Exactly," you say and kiss his cheek, "You get it. I just... I don't wanna be your pet, I wanna be yours."
You breathe out the words and push yourself closer on his lap. He appeases your desire for less space and pulls you to his chest.
"You are mine. You don't have to worry about that," he says.
"And I still wanna be your little puppy."
He chuckles. His head ducks down to your neck to lay a few kisses there. One of his palms drifts down to gently knead the dough of your ass.
"You also are my little puppy. My little puppy that follows me everywhere. Mine to hold and love on. Mine to play with. Mine to deal with when she gets bratty."
The last word comes out teasing and brings a happy sound out of you. "I wasn't being bratty before. She started it," you say, playing along.
"Hmmm, you're right. Maybe fussy's a better word," he mutters and nips at the soft flesh of your neck.
"Nuh uh. I was being totally normal," you say and nudge at his face with your nose, getting a little squirmy on his lap.
He responds by flipping you over onto your back. The mattress creaks with the bout of pressure and a squeal leaves your throat. You can feel his length against your hip, half-hard already from how you had wiggled on his lap.
"Oh please," he says, "Why do you think I brought you up here? I can tell when my pup needs to calm down. And I know just how to do that, don't I?"
You whimper and nod. He grins before returning his lips to your neck. He nips a few love bites onto the delicate area, drawing little whines from you. His hands hold you in place and move with your body's wriggling. He gropes at your hips and waist, paws at your tits, and slides them around to massage your ass.
"Such a good girl. So responsive for me," he coos.
The condescending affection sends a pulse down to your clit, and your hips roll up to meet his. One of your legs hooks around his waist to pull his body closer.
"Logan. Don't tease," you pout.
Your whiny plea doesn't garner any sympathy from him though. He laughs against your neck and pulls back to smirk down at you.
"My little puppy needs to learn some patience. You think if you don't get my dick in seconds that it's teasing," he taunts.
You whine again and press your leg down on him. He doesn't make any move to pull his cock out though. One set of his fingers comes up to your jaw, directing your lips to an angle where his can land on yours. He kisses you nice and deep, swallowing up any bratty urges that were springing around inside your head. His tongue is warm and soft, gentle against yours.
Meanwhile, his freehand does start to slide down below. It travels beneath the waistband of your bottoms. His warm fingers glide over the plush skin of your pelvis and slot between your lower lips to find your swollen nub. He flicks at it, instantly getting a mewl from you.
You can feel his smug smile against your mouth, but you don't have much time to react to it before his middle finger starts swirling around your bud. Your leg releases his body as it squirms with your other on the mattress. You moan into his mouth and boost your hips into his touch, wanting more of that blissful friction.
"Sweet girl," he coos. The words are muffled by your skin, but you could pick those syllables out of any lineup. "That's your favorite spot, isn't it? Always gets you wriggling for me like a little puppy."
"Mhm," you whimper with a faint nod.
Your heels dig into the mattress to give you some leverage to push your hips up so he can tug your pants off. He takes the opportunity and flings them off the bed. With you bare to him like that, he leaves your lips and moves down. He pulls your top off next and smooches between your breasts and over your tummy before landing between your legs.
He kneels on the floor at the edge of the mattress. His hands hook around your thighs and pull you in his direction.
"C'mere, baby. Give me that puppy cunt. Gotta get it all wet, so it can take my cock."
With that, he buries his head between your thighs. You gasp and throw your head back. Your hands fly to his head to grab at the two dark points of hair.
Logan gives his all to the task of pleasuring you. Whether it was his cock or his mouth, you were never getting anything less than his best. That's obvious right now as he eats you out like it's all he has to live for. He laps at your poor little clit before sucking it into his mouth. It gets some good suction from his lips before he pulls away and licks a broad stripe over your cunt.
He prods his tongue at your entrance, pushing the soft appendage against your hole. You whine more, and he feels your heels dig into his back as they had the mattress. Little expletives float from your mouth into the air as you experience such a rush of euphoria.
"Taste so good, pup. So fuckin' sweet," he mumbles. His lips open and close over your pussy, making out with it.
You rock your hips back and forth, essentially humping his face. He groans and only works harder. Your cute reactions only spurred him on. He twists his tongue just how he'd learned you liked and uses the perfect amount of pressure to get you gushing for him. Your arousal begins to coat his chin, his dark facial hair glistening with your wetness.
"Nice and wet. I'm just gonna slide right in, huh baby?"
"Yeah," you pant. Your hips buck when his nose bumps your clit, but he keeps you held in place.
He kisses your clit before dragging his tongue over you anymore. The soft touch pulls a whimper from you. Your brain starts to get all muddled and hazy. The dreamy feeling always took over when he had you like this. He knows it's coming on too. He can tell by the sudden softening of your movements. You're less jerky and more fluid in how you fidget.
"Oh, that's it. I think my pretty puppy's ready for me," he says, voice smooth on your ears.
He wags his tongue over your little bundle of nerves a few more times before standing to undress himself. His shirt comes off first, dropped to the floor with your garments. His pants are next to go, crumpled on the ground and kicked off his ankles.
Crawling back on top of you, his larger figure boxes you in on the soft surface. His cock is fully hard by now, red and angry, leaking desire from the tip. He guides it to your center and rubs it through your soaked folds.
A soft grunt leaves him as your nectar coats his shaft and drips onto his balls a little too. He only slides it against you a couple times, not wanting to waste the stimulation humping when he could be nestled deep inside.
He brings his tip down to your hold and pushes it in. Your walls accept the familiar intrusion and he groans at the comfort of your velvet walls contracting around him. He pushes his length in all the way until he bottoms out.
Then, adjusting himself and gripping at your hips, he starts to thrust. The motions start as gentle rocks. Taps of his pelvis against your ass. You flutter around him. Moans leak from you, and he smiles at the obvious pleasure coursing through your body.
He fucks you deep, just how you always asked for it. You weren't concerned with whining for harder and deeper right now. This was enough. The feeling of his cock buried in you soothed you like nothing else. Your eyes roll back and puffs of air come from your nostrils.
"Fuck, honey. Feels like I can barely last with you," he grumbles.
"Can't even think when I'm with you," you babble.
Your arms come up to pull him closer, and he lets you. He presses his body into yours, in-turn, shoving his cock as far into you as physically possible. You cry out with the pressure. It was the best kind. Deep and satisfying. To the point that you can feel it in your tummy every time his belly pushes on yours.
"You may not be my dog, baby, but one day you're gonna be my perfect breeding bitch," he grunts.
Your jaw goes slack, eyes drooping with lust. Your head tilts back and he leans into yours more.
"Gonna have you full of me forever. Always gonna be mine."
You can't even respond. Your mind isn't coming up with any coherent response. All you can do is whimper and whine like the needy pup that you are.
"This is what you need sometimes, puppy. Need me to stretch you out on my cock. Get all those thoughts out of your head. Cause puppies don't have to think. Not when you have someone like me taking care of you."
Your thighs start quivering, a sign you were reaching your peak. He knows this and drills into you harder. His balls slap against you every time he pistons his hips. His heated skin rubs against yours. He occupies all your senses, overloading you with him.
"Logan... gotta... gonna cum," you whine.
"Then cum for me," he mumbles simply, "Cum all over my cock, and I'll be right behind you."
You nod. Your back arches up. It takes you a little more, but when you get there, you crash into the throes of release. A sharp yelp bursts from you. Your feet kick a little and your legs press against his sides in an attempt to shut him out.
You get so fucking tight when you cum. Your hole clenches around him, calling out to him to spill every drop of his seed inside your wanting orifice. He growls and drops his head in your neck. He feels it building between his hips. The pressure grows until he can't take it anymore. It snaps and the flood gates open.
He bites at your neck, not hard enough to break the skin but with enough need to leave a little mark. Hot, sticky cum shoots out of him in thick ropes. Warmth fills your insides and you feel like you're sinking into the mattress below you. Both of you are panting with the intensity of the high.
You've already come down by the time he's starting to. After he nuts, Logan tends to get a little sappy. His arms pull you in tighter and he pecks at your neck a few times more muttering something unintelligible about his baby puppy.
Tumblr media
"So what do you think?" you ask and twirl into the room, showing off your new outfit.
It matched his. Black leather snug on your body, lined with the same gold on the seams of Logan's. The bold X that shown on his belt could be found on the zipper of your top, dangling against your chest.
He smiles at you, standing from the bed to walk over and get a better view.
"Looks pretty good," he says upon approaching, "Seems a little tight though. You got room for your tail in that thing?"
You laugh at his joke and spin around again, showing the back where the suit had accommodated for your tail to poke through. It whips back and forth before you turn to him again.
"Just perfect for you then," he says and pulls you close, patting your ass and kissing your forehead, "Look at you. An official member of the team."
You nod and struggle not to bounce all around the room with the excitement vibrating through your cells.
"We're gonna be like so totally cool together," you say.
"Yeah. Totally," he imitates affectionately. He cups your jaw, watching your cheeks squish in and your lips puff out. Leaning down, he puts his mouth on yours in a soft kiss. "You're gonna do great."
The words come out as a whisper against your lips. One of your canines slips over your bottom lip as you take it between your teeth. But the display of timidity only lasts a second.
"I know," you beam.
Locking your fingers around his palm, you drag him to the door and out into the hall. Your arm makes his swing as he walks along behind you. He rolls his eyes lovingly at your confident display, but he can't keep his gaze off your happy self. He lets you pull him without resistance.
Now it would be his turn to follow you.
4K notes · View notes
ccsainzleclerc5516 · 5 days ago
Text
You’re My Baby Too
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: none
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You'd think that the second pregnancy would be a breeze. You already know everything about how it goes, how to prepare, what to expect, but in your case, your second pregnancy was dreadful.
First trimester, horrible nausea, you spent half your time over the toilet with Lando holding your hair. Your baby boy was so much bigger than Isla it made your back hurt like crazy all the time, and the worst thing of all was that your baby boy didn't wanna come out.
You prayed you wouldn't give birth before Lando finished the season, so when the season ended you were relieved. But then your due date passed, and nothing happened. Then five days passed after your due date, nothing again. 10 days after your due date - the baby just doesn't wanna come out.
You were frustrated, exhausted, and tired of being pregnant. You just wanted to be able to see your feet again and be able to get up off the couch without Lando having to pull your hand.
"It's because you make such a good home for him he doesn't wanna come out, love." Lando tried to calm you down in a nice way, not even realizing that he irritated you with that because he's been saying that for the last 10 days and your nerves have become very thin hearing it.
"I swear, if you say that one more time.." You barked rolling your eyes at him while holding your still very pregnant belly.
"I'm sorry, I'll shut up.."
“Thank you.” You glared at him.
He didn't hold it against you for your brazen response because he understood that it had become too much for you. Lately, he's been walking on eggshells around you because everything has been annoying you, and he didn't want to be the one to contribute to that.
When the twelfth day passed since your due date, you realized that too much time had passed and you even started to worry a little that something was wrong. So Lando decided to take you to the hospital, where you very clearly told the doctor that you weren't leaving the place until you gave birth.
You thought that by some miracle, as soon as you stepped into the hospital, labor would start and you would just pop the baby out and everything would be over in less than two hours just like it was with Isla, but of course that wasn't the case with this baby.
"I think we have no other choice but to induce the labor." The doctor said.
"Okay, how long does it take?" You asked. "Is it like natural labor or?"
"Induced labor can last from a few hours to a few days, it depends. It's most often completed within 12 to 18 hours from the start of the procedure."
"Oh my God" You sighed in despair with tears in your eyes and Lando immediately squeezed your hand to offer you at least some comfort.
"Does it hurt more than a normal birth?" Lando was very concerned about how painful it would be for you. While you were giving birth to Isla, Lando was of course by your side, and even though it was much shorter and easier, he was still terribly shaken to see the pain you went through.
"I don't want to discourage you and scare you right from the start, but many women have said that induced labor is more painful."
And boy oh boy was it painful.
When they gave you the drip to induce contractions, that's when the real agony began. The drip makes contractions stronger and more frequent and you can't even begin to explain what you'd compare that pain to.
You were sweating.
Crying.
Gripping the sides of the bed and Lando's hand, which at one point you thought you were going to break.
You honestly felt like dying. What was supposed to be the most beautiful experience of your life was quickly turning into a nightmare.
Lando was heartbroken seeing you like this. He was putting cold compresses on you, hugging you, kissing you, comforting you, begging you to endure this.
"I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could go through this instead of you. I'm so sorry."
He didn't leave you for a second, except when you caught a 5-minute break from the contractions and managed to close your eyes for at least a moment and calm down. Lando said he had to go to the bathroom.
He lied actually. Instead he went to the hallway outside your room where his parents were patiently waiting. By the look on his face, Cisca and Adam could see that Lando was not well and that he himself was traumatized.
Lando didn't say anything, he just hugged Cisca and buried his face in her neck, soaking her shoulder with tears.
"I'm so fucking scared for her. It wasn't like this the first time." Lando cried quietly.
"Oh honey, y/n's going to be alright, I promise you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but soon this will pass and you'll be going home with your baby." Cisca comforted trying to lift his spirits. "Honey, you need to get yourself together, alright? She needs you right now and you need to be there for her."
When labor finally began after 14 long hours, you were running out of strength. You were so exhausted that you weren't sure if you would be able to push the baby out.
"Push y/n, push!" The doctor encouraged.
"I c-can't" You cried breathing rapidly. "Lando, I can't do it.."
"Come on baby, you can, I know you can. Just a little bit more and it's done, I promise. You've got this" He was pushing your hair out of your face, holding your hand, and holding your leg at the same time.
"Come on, push, push! I can see the head!"
Finally, the baby's cry was heard and soon the baby boy was on your chest. As soon as you saw him, all the pain instantly vanished.
He was so perfect. So worth it.
Lando couldn't contain his emotions as he rested his head on your shoulder, carefully observing his baby.
Later that day, when everything had calmed down, Lando was still there by your side. He couldn't be separated from you nor did he want to. His gaze shifted between you and the baby watching you both sleep peacefully.
He was tired too. He didn't really remember the last time he slept, but he knew you had it worse than him anyway, so he didn't even think of complaining.
"Lan?"
"Hey, love" His face lit up when you opened your eyes. When he saw you smile, it brought energy back to him. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Did you get some rest?"
"I did, why didn't you?" You asked him when you saw the huge dark circles under his eyes and the same clothes from the day before yesterday. "Baby, please go home, I know you're exhausted too."
"The only way I'm getting out of here is with you two."
You didn't want to argue with him because you knew it was pointless. You were just grateful that he was there and that he was yours.
"My pretty, pretty girl. I'm so proud of you." Lando said softly caressing your cheek and looking into your tired eyes. "I love you so much you know that, right?"
"I know, I can feel it. I love you too, so much." You say before kissing him. "Where are our kids?"
"This little guy is sleeping here without a care in the world."
"And Isla? She didn't come with your parents?"
"No, I told them not to bring her because I knew you'd get too emotional if you saw her, and I wanted you to rest as much as possible."
"You should've told them to bring her, I really miss her and I can't wait for her to meet her brother." You said, but you could still see the worry in Lando's eyes. "I'm fine, Lan, I promise."
"We're done with the kids. Our family is complete now."
"Lan.." You chuckled.
"No, I'm serious. I never want to see you go through so much pain again. It's been so hard to watch you like that and not be able to do anything and I'm not putting you through it again. "
"It was worth it tho. Look at him, he's so perfect. I'd do it all over again for our baby"
"I know, I know, but you're my baby too." No matter how many children you have, his protective attitude towards you will never change.
"Oh, love.." You pulled his hand to get up from the chair and come sit on the bed next to you so you can cuddle up next to him.
"I can't wait to take you home, both of you." He said quietly kissing your forehead.
You rested your head on his chest, knowing that wherever you are, as long as he's there, everything is fine.
2K notes · View notes
a-b-riddle · 8 months ago
Text
Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
4K notes · View notes
no-144444 · 2 months ago
Text
nothing bad!- o.piastri
Tumblr media
���ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
summary: the sprint pisses you off, ted's notebook catches you at a bad time, you say some things, oscar posts some things, and it ends up being one of the most popular ad campaigns in history. oops.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
You rolled your eyes as you watched the sprint end. Bullshit. Team orders had always left a bad taste in your mouth, but this was just bullshit. You sighed, looking at Mark, and he just rolled his eyes. Oscar was on par with Lando in his second season. Yes, there were some small mistakes or issues, but he was a fucking jet engine, and he deserved a team that treated him like one. He was going to be World Champion next year, you knew it, Mark knew it, everyone knew it. 
“Fucking arseholes,” Mark cursed. “What time is your quali at?” 
“12,” you answered. “I’m going to just go talk to him, see you in a bit.” 
You stood in Parc Fermé and he came up, pressing a kiss to your lips and sighing as his team congratulated him. 
“That was such bullshit,” you sighed, following him to his driver’s room after the media duties. “Wanna fuck to get all that frustration out?” 
He nodded, not even looking at the question like it was a joke. You both knew it wasn’t. “How long until your quali?” 
“An hour,” you shrugged, pulling him into his room with a smirk. 
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
When you two finally resurfaced, you made your way over to your car, ready to slot it onto the grid, as you did, you were stopped by Ted Kravitz, the man, the myth, the legend himself. 
“Y/n! How are you feeling about today’s quali and sprint race?” he asked. 
“Good, yeah. Just need to get out and up there,” you nodded. You were the number one driver in F1 Academy, and F2. This weekend was an F1 Academy weekend. You’d won every race since you’d joined the series, a sweep of total domination for 2 years. 13 wins under your belt in F1 Academy, 12 feature race wins in F2, and 12 Sprint wins in F2. And you were only 22. 
“And how did you feel about Oscar’s Sprint race? You didn’t look so happy in Parc Fermé.”
You rolled your eyes. “If Lando really needs Oscar to take a side step like that over one point, maybe he’s not ready to be champion,” you shrugged. “And that’s coming from a friend.” 
You could feel the air shift as Ted smirked, knowing what a headline that would be. 
“Thanks for your time Y/n, we’ll see you on the other side of Quali,” he smiled, allowing you to walk on. 
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
Pole position, again. 
It was almost funny how easy it was. 
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
You made your way back into your garage and found Oscar looking proud, but slightly guilty…
“What did you do?” you asked, putting your helmet and gloves down. 
“Nothing bad,” he prefaced. “But I may or may not have posted something.”
You looked at him quizzically. “Show me.” 
He turned his phone around and you laughed. 
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
oscarpiastri
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by pierregasly, landonorris, y/nracing, and 839,231 others
oscarpiastri: get yourself a girlfriend who a) is intelligent, gorgeous, and awesome. and b) publicly humiliates your teammate over one point :)
comments
landonorris: low blow... i thanked you -> y/nracing: u forgot to thank beyonce.
user82: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
mclaren: please take this down xxx -> y/nracing: if he takes this down i'll bomb mtc. -> mclaren: OH GREAT HEAVENS.
zbrownceo: we know this diva 💜
lilymhe: hold up im trying to spell gorjus -> y/nracing: OMG I FUCKING LOVE YOU DITCH ALEX FOR ME PLZ
carlossainz: at least you've got a leg up on lando... -> user22: ??? -> carlossainz: he hjas a girlfriend that loves him, lando's dumps him every four days -> landonorris: WHY AM I CATCHING STRAYS RN????
oscarpiastri: who is this gorgeous lady? -> y/nracing: she's taken bucko -> oscarpiastri: not by lando norris 😹😹😹 (even though he asked you out first...) -> y/nracing: who the fuck would pick lando over oscar?
pierregasly: WHO IS THIS DIVA 💜
charlesleclerc: glad to see my daughter in law is still insane
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
“Well, I’d better post something myself, shouldn't I?” you smirked. He nodded, a bright blush on his cheeks, knowing exactly what you were going to post. 
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
y/nracing
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,293,942 others
y/nracing: booo ln4. i'm into op81. oh yeah, also our skims collection is out on the 24th xxx
comments
user82: OH MY FUCKING GOD
user29: i have no one to talk to about this.
oscarpiastri: pretty girl -> y/nracing: pretty boy
landonorris: ??? ->oscarpiastri: I will actually gouge your eyes out, unlike this post right now. -> user92: WHAT HAPPENED TO POLITE CAT? -> oscarpiastri: his teammate became a bitch
user92: HOLY SHIT Y/N IS LOOKING GORG
lilymhe: my girl is beautiful
alexandrastmleux: my girl xxx
charlesleclerc: supporting! (with my eyes closed)
pierregasly: 👀 ->oscarpiastri: close them.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
1K notes · View notes
servicpop · 5 months ago
Text
you've got a fetish for my love gym rat satoru & suguru x bottom male reader
Tumblr media
"That's wraps, let's go take a shower Suguru I'm sweaty as hell."
The weights nestled on the bar slinked off as Suguru placed them back on the rack. A few tiring hours of bench presses, deadlifts, and other workouts were done on repeat until the men eventually felt that ache in their muscles that told them to stop.
"Right, I think we're done for today," Suguru hummed, gripping his water bottle and taking a quick chug of water before chucking it into his gym bag, zipping it up and walking to the showers before Satoru could even get himself packed up. Suguru was first to enter, pushing the doors to the men's shower rooms aside to place his bag down at the bench.
Steam billowed through one of the open stalls but Suguru brushed it off, it was an ungodly hour to be at the gym currently. One downside about these gym stalls were that the doors were practically non-existant, replaced by a raggedy plastic curtain that swayed with every slight movement. Guess the gym splurged all their money on the equipment and fancy parts of the interior rather than the bathrooms.
Suguru's eyes flickered down to the unaccompanied bag at the corner of the bench. It was yours, he recognised it from the key chain you placed on the zips to identify your bag.
"Suguru why didn't you wait—" Satoru burst into the shower rooms, complaints already stringing out of his lips, "Look, Satoru," Suguru pointed out, pointing at your bag and to the stall that had steam coming out of it.
"Oh, well he can fit two right?" Satoru chuckled, his chest rising and falling from the laugh, "Well he has done it before." That earned a nudge to the head by Suguru — who clearly didn't appreciate the sexual innuendo. "Well, if you don't wanna join me, I'll be going first," Satoru shrugged, peeling off his black shirt that clung to his body from all the sweat, and his pants, tossing it aside before he brutally ripped the shower curtain aside.
You had just finished some light cardio, something to get your body energised and your dopamine levels running. You chose an early morning to go to the gym, wanting to avoid stripping naked infront of other buff and sweaty men and the sheer awkwardness of squeezing past boisterous conversations as you try to find yourself an empty stall.
You thought you were safe, but when are you really when Satoru Gojo is pursuing you? The shower curtain ripping open pulled a yelp from deep inside your heart, goosebumps covering your skin. When the familiar tuffs of white hair came into your view, there was only one person who would intrude on your space like this.
"Cmon 'Toru, you're gonna give this poor man a heart attack one day," Suguru sighed, appearing beside Satoru. Now both of the men were crowding your space, the water still cascading down your back. They were both glistening with sweat, the evidence of a hard workout there.
"Hey, why didn't you tell us you were at the gym today?" Satoru feigned a sad puppy-dog pout, his hands finding their way to where your waist met your hips. He squeezed the soft flesh there, humming contently; it was something he loved about you, your body was just right.
"Thought you guys were busy," You mumbled, your eyes tracing Suguru's calm movements as he slipped past Satoru and placed himself behind you, chest against your back. "Doesn't mean you can't shoot us a message," Suguru cooed, coiling his fingers in your hair as he pressed lightly against your lower back.
"I second that," Satoru chuckled, his fingers traced circles on your belly, "Since you won't workout with us in the gym... you can 'work out' with us in here," He grinned, leaning in to nip a kiss at your nose before his hands met your cock. Your whole body jolted at the sudden touch, and Suguru held your biceps, squeezing you slightly as a reassurance. You could feel Suguru's hands dip down to your ass, kneading the fat there before he spat on his own dick, rubbing it against your puckered hole to smear his make-shift lube.
"Ah, shit you make me so hard," Satoru grumbled, his pearly whites hooked on his baby pink lip, using his spare hand to jerk himself off while slipping his thumb over your tip. "This is kinda lewd, hey?" He groaned — a smirk plastered all over his face — "Both your boyfriends fucking you in the showers of a public gym." Satoru's fingers wrapped around himself and yours, bringing both your dicks together into his hand.
"We both know this is a sick fantasy of yours, 'Toru" Suguru retorted, slowly pushing himself into you with a low groan. His fingers twitched on your back, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he watched yourself stretch to accommodate for his size, "Shit, you really do know how to take us, huh?"
"W–wait," You gasped, your palms flushing against Satoru's chest, you couldn't tell if that was water on him or sweat. Satoru turned a blind ear to your pleas, rolling his hips against yours as he kept his fist clenched, forcing your cocks to grind together. The stimulation from the front and the back was enough to get your knees going limp.
"Don't give out on us yet, prince," Suguru cooed gently into your ear, nudging himself in just a little deeper before pulling all the way out and slamming back in. "Oh fuck," Suguru moaned, his thick fingers clawed at your hips. Like he got the sudden motivation seeing Suguru so drunk on your insides, Satoru sped up his hands, pumping the both of you. You could feel every twitch and vein bulging against your own length, he was close.
"Shitshitshitshit, I think I'm gonna cum," Satoru whined, thrusting up into his hand, chasing that sweet release, ""Gonna make a mess outta you," He sputtered, his hand squelched with every stroke. Suguru stayed quiet, but your ears were more trained to him. Every soft groan or stutter in breath from Suguru didn't go unnoticed, he was practically panting in your ear.
Stretching you out like you were elastic was something Suguru took pride in taking his time to do. He knew he found your sweet spot when your hips jerked, squirming in their shared grasp, "Stay still f'me," He whispered, linking his muscular forearm right underneath your chest.
It was all too much, your eyes flitted up to meet Satoru's blue ones, his white eyelashes covered most of the blue since he was so focused on your body and his mouth was agape, short breaths coming out. His once spiky hair was now down, stuck to his forehead from the mixture of sweat and water. Your brain alternated focus from the two men so quickly you found yourself in a daze trying to keep up.
"Hah, look at you, your face looks so fucked out," Satoru teased, leaning in to catch your tongue hanging from your mouth and pulled you in for a wet kiss. You felt his dick pulse a few times before he moaned into your mouth, shooting out a load onto your stomach while you followed closely after him. It was a mix of both your messes, "It's like making slime," Satoru laughed, carding his fingers through his hair.
"You're ruining the moment, Satoru," Suguru groaned at Satoru's childish behaviours — did this man ever grow up? "My bad, Sugu, want me to help you?" Satoru grinned, pulling your upper body towards him and planting your head onto his shoulder. He let your head rest in the crook of his collarbone before his arms reached down to your ass, spreading you apart for Suguru.
"Thanks," Suguru gruffly murmured. He bent down slight so he could reach even deeper, pistoning his hips against your ass. You cried out onto Satoru's shoulder, the knot growing in your stomach for a second time. "Good job baby, look you're taking Suguru's dick so well," Satoru whistled watching as Suguru's cock get enveloped by your hole.
"He's so tight I think I might snap in half," Suguru groaned, his hair falling off his shoulders and barley reached your back. Suguru hissed when you clenched down a bit more, your warm gummy walls milked his cock. "Take it all baby, you deserve it," He purred, burying himself to the hilt before je orgasmed, painting your insides with his semen.
Suguru's palm loosened on your hips, trailing down to your stomach and rubbed it gently, "Good boy." Satoru laughed, bringing his hands back up to ruffle your hair, "Enough cardio? Alright, let's get you actually cleaned up before you turn into a rasin from all the water."
Tumblr media
a / n ; not proof read as always TT also my first time writing a threesome ! I left Satoru and Suguru's relationship open , I know some people are more into that love ... arrow ?
2K notes · View notes
depresssant · 5 months ago
Text
Shades Of Cool
NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader - part l, part ll
synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?
so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story
warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc
Tumblr media
you want to die.
you always do.
staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.
"you? i should give my money to you?"
"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"
"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."
that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.
"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—
"stop right there!"
damn it.
you think too soon.
a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.
"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"
gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"
"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.
"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."
you do know. you wish you wouldn't.
"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."
"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."
"are you sure—"
"completely."
please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.
"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."
"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."
"of course."
you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.
that is the summary of your life.
taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.
the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.
that's exactly what happens.
your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.
leaving you in your own pile of misery.
it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.
Tumblr media
gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.
the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.
tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.
even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.
"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"
your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."
"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."
"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."
an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.
"excuse me?"
you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.
zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"
"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.
"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.
the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...
well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"
jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."
that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."
you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.
tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."
"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.
"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."
"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.
your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"
"let's be friends!"
"no."
"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.
"no."
"too bad! you're my friend now."
"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."
his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.
tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"
"really now?"
"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"
... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.
"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."
this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.
Tumblr media
"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."
what the hell are you doing?
the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?
nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.
"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."
there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.
"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."
"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"
"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"
you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤
ding!
your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.
mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.
a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.
telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.
after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."
"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.
honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?
you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.
"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.
you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."
"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"
your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."
you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?
"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."
and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.
Tumblr media
ewwww
this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series
um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it
2K notes · View notes
starboye · 15 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
starring: simon riley x male reader
request: Lt Simon Riley absolutely railing you in his private room while you have to stay silent so you don’t get caught his boxers in your mouth eyes rolled back maybe full Nelson, possibly some one knocks/calls - spit kink, degradation praise, almost caught, gagged, sloppy? If not it’s okay
warnings: smut, spit kink, face slapping, rough sex, slight degradation, gagged, unprotected sex, oral sex, deep throating, cursing, cum eating
directors note: quick intermission, its not that i wont write full nelson sex position it's just that idrk how to
Tumblr media
when your lieutenant called you to his room you expected to get berated for your pretty bad performance during training today but this was far from that "you like that dick huh" simon taunted you, watching your eyes roll back with each of his thrusts into you, fucking despicable noises out of you.
"m-mhmmm i fuckin' love it" you babbled under him with your legs dangling on both his sides while his hips snapped into your ass, fingers digging into your hips "if you wanted me to fuck you ya could've jus' asked, goin' around bending over and acting all slutty in front of everyone" he teased you some more, one hand trailing up your body to grab your chin and angle your face towards him.
"open" he demanded and you obeyed opening your mouth for him before he spat into it, slipping his fingers into your mouth and all the way down your throat, watching you effortlessly take his fingers all the way down to the knuckles making him smirk a little before pulling them back out and giving you a little slap.
you reveled in the feeling of simon using you for his enjoyment, your moans getting louder and louder to the point of someone could maybe hear you "if you don't get quiet i might have to make you" simon sternly says "please do sir" you whimper out, biting your bottom lip as you rocked your ass onto him, wanting more and more of his thick cock to be inside you "such a dirty slut huh all you want is me to fuck you right" he says before grabbing his underwear and shoving them into your mouth to keep you quiet.
he grabs you thighs and bring them up to your chest, pressing them right on to your before angling himself just right and fucking into you roughly, constantly hitting just the right spot and making you moan out so good it felt like you could see god, right then you both heard a knock at the door making both your sounds stop and heads to snap towards the door.
"simon open the door" you hear captain price say outside the door knocking again but simon just stands there thinking how he could get out of this before you see his eyes widen with an idea, picking you up and putting you behind the door and taking his underwear out of your mouth "make yourself useful while i handle this m'kay" he says pushing your mouth down on his cock and opening the door to see an agitated price.
"yes captain" he greets holding back groans from your mouth working his hard on "why are you shirtless" price asks "uh just got out the shower" simon quickly lies, trying not to raise any suspicion from price "well i just wanna say you have to stop flirting with that one recruit, you know it's not allowed and plus it shows favoritism to the others" price scolds simon, good thing he couldn't see how you were going to town on simons cock behind the door.
"yes sir i'll be sure to do that" simon tries to close the door but price stops it with his foot "you better simon" he says before letting the door close and walking away, simon letting out satisfied groans as he feels himself cum down your throat "fuckin' hell" he lets out after emptying every drop into your mouth and watching you swallow it like a good boy.
"now do you really want me to stop seeing you, i mean you did hear what the captain said, i cant show favoritism" simon asks wiping the cum from your face and watching you lick it off his finger "well he doesn't have to know now does he" you say standing up to kiss him "no he doesn't"
Tumblr media
taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac
685 notes · View notes
cxffecoupx · 1 month ago
Text
sundays
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
choi seungcheol x reader pure fluff, very domestic allowing their partner to sleep in because they were overworked anyway and need the rest with scoups wc: 995 warnings: mentions of food author's notes: first request from the prompt list. thank you so much anon! most of the feelings i wrote this with comes from all the stress last week, so this was pretty healing for me to write. also i tried a different style in this, not sure i liked it at first, but do lemme know what you guys think. also, i love domestic, boyfriend seungcheol, if it wasnt already obvious.
Tumblr media
saturday; 8:26 p.m.
the soft vibrations startle you in the quiet hum of the library. people look towards you, some annoyed, some with no particular expression on their faces. dead inside.
somewhat like you.
you mutter apologies as you rush out with your phone. seungcheol's name lights up the screen. you pick up the call.
"hey baby."
"hey, cheollie."
"have you eaten yet?"
"no; i still have a little to finish the chapter. so maybe after that..."
"baby..." you swear you could see the pout on his face when you hear his voice. "how many times have i asked you not to starve yourself?"
"cheol, i'm not starving, i promise to eat after this chapter."
"you want me to order something for you?"
"no no, i'm good. i'll grab something from the cafe. i gotta go, i'll call you when i reach room, okay?"
after a hum, you end the call and go back to your table.
-----
saturday; 11:52 p.m.
you were writing notes - two three textbooks open on the desk, along with your laptop, and notebook on your lap, your pen tucked above your lips as you ponder something. the weighted blanket covers the chair and your figure, and although sleep is fluttering in your eyes, the thought of having to physically get up and out of this cozy comfortable cocoon makes you wanna sleep in the chair itself.
your phone buzzes with a text, making you groan because you'd have to pull yourself out of the position you're currently in. you do it anyways, and see that seungcheol had sent you a text.
big baby🍒: you up for a walk? me: i have to study me: :( big baby🍒: who are you kidding? big baby🍒: we both know youre falling asleep rn me: >:( me: but you make a good point me: when are you leaving? i'll get ready big baby🍒: already in front of your door
you get ready quickly and open the door to find seungcheol waiting out, cheeks red and lips shivering. you smile as you pull his face to yours to kiss his lips, mumbling a weak excuse that it's to warm them up. he wraps his scarf round your neck and interlinks your hands as you head for the walk.
when you return an hour later, it's with much reluctance that seungcheol says he should leave. but then he pouts every half minute after muttering his decision.
"do you wanna stay over tonight?" you offer, knowing fully well he would never reject. he doesnt even hear the whole question before he's kicking off his shoes and entering your room. you head over to your wardrobe to take out some of his clothes he'd left behind at various points of your relationship and bring it to him. when he's done freshening up, he comes out to see you settling back into your cocoon, head deep in the books. he decides to keep company as he lays on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
-----
sunday; 2:57 p.m.
seungcheol had fallen asleep some multiple times in between keeping you silent company, but when he wakes up now, he's full awake and shocked to see you still sitting at your desk, now with some snack packets littering around. he decides to walk over and call you to bed, but that's when he notices that your eyes are half-closed and your head hanging in a way that makes him wince. drool almost makes its way down your chin before he takes a tissue and wipes it off. he gently nudges you awake.
"yn, baby. you need to get to bed. come on now."
he's honestly surprised when you easily comply, maybe because of your half-asleep state, because usually you'd reject and sit for some time more. the walk that he'd planned to tire you out had worked, he thinks to himself, as he supports your asleep body to your bed and lays you down, tucking you in the soft, weighted blanket - your favourite - before settling in beside you.
as he drifts back to sleep, he hears you murmur to him.
"seungie, wake me up early tomorrow, okay?"
it's only after he reassures you that he will that you finally wrap your arms around his torso and settle into the warmth of his chest before falling asleep.
-----
sunday; 11:17 a.m.
seungcheol is awakened by you snuggling closer to him. it's way past the time he was asked to wake you up at, but he wouldn't dare wake you up when you seemed to sleep so peacefully. that too on an off day? he could never.
he takes his sweet time admiring your features during this moment of calm: your eyelids that are open in the slightest, the little sniffs with each breath you take because winters meant you're cold at every passing moment, the hair that fell out of the neat bun you made before going to bed, puffy cheeks that seem to move as you chew on something in your dream (he guesses). his urge to touch your face overpowers every other thought as he lightly traces his finger along the line of your brow. this seemed to have woken you up because you sigh before opening your eyes; the first thing you see in the morning being his handsome, bed-face that's smiling towards you.
a view you could never get tired of.
you press the lightest of kisses on his lips and turn to check your phone. panic seeps into your brain within a millisecond when you realize its way past your wake-up time. you sit up in a swift motion.
"cheol, i asked you to wake me up at 7!"
"relax baby, it's a sunday."
"but-"
before you could argue back, he sits up and places a smooch on your lips.
"no buts. you don't have to rush every time; it's alright to take breaks."
another kiss.
"good morning, baby. let's go make some pancakes."
525 notes · View notes
writteninkat · 5 months ago
Text
What made you fall for these MHA men?
w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, Kaminari
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: none, just some good ol' fluff
a/n: idk man i feel like most people(me) goes straight to the fucking stage and skips the adorable crush stage
navigation
KATSUKI BAKUGOU
this man is so fucking smart it turns you to goo
whenever you're having trouble with schoolworks/projects/assignments, you sit yourself next to him just to get the work done fast (and he smells and looks good so plus points ig)
find long math problems difficult? mans will take one look at it and immediately start scribbling. probably witchcraft, you don't know.
one moment you're complaining to mina about how your teacher can suck dick after giving you the assigment, the next katsuki has the answer in a box
chemistry problems? mans has the entire table memorized.
history? which one? japanese? american? french?
ah, he also butts in your conversations whenever you get the date wrong.
yeah he teaches you stuff you're having trouble understanding, but he will yell the entire time.
yeah, he teaches the topics worlds better than the teacher ever could but at the cost of your hearing
seeing his name listed along the top students with high marks has you inspired to do just as better as him
you tried confessing by giving him a love letter and he returned it to you with corrections TT (and a note that said: rewrite this and read it to me in person, then I'll take you out for some ramen)
EIJIRO KIRISHIMA
he's the sweetest ever, who wouldn't fall for him?
you're having terrible period cramps? this man will have a 'period aid box' filled with sweets, sanitary products, pain relievers, a heating pad, and more of your favorite things delivered to your door
it's pouring and you forgot your umbrella?
if he has an umbrella: will obv share it with you and doesn't care if half his body gets drenched, what matters is you're dry
no umbrella: takes off his uniform jacket/vest and drapes it over you. you'll end up damp but hey, he tried his best
whenever there's a new place, (restaurant, fair, amusement park, etc.) you're the first one he's asking to join him. and you always go. and he always pays.
hurt yourself? scraped a knee, got a bruise, muscle ache? he has a first aid pouch in his bag just for you
always walks you to class, always struggles with you when doing homework, always brings you your favorite food/drink
problem? he does all of this and will still call you a 'friend'. 'best friend' if you're lucky.
yeah, this adorable boy has no idea all the shit he does has you falling head over heels in love for him
IZUKU MIDORIYA
the way he's so passionate about what he loves, then catches himself being so open about it, then blushes, has you swooning
it was a normal day when you asked him about all might. you ended up listening to him for two hours ranting and sharing
you thought, 'how cute.' and then remembered you had piles of homework to do. and then he offered to help you with them while still talking about all might
he's also incredible passionate about being a hero
the way he talks about keeping the weak and needy safe has your heart clenching
whenever you get hurt during quirk training? he drops everything to take you to the nurse
feel insecure about yourself? he goes on a never ending tangent about how you're enough and how amazing you are
whenever you feel like you aren't gonna reach a goal, he's right there to pump you back up
whenever you tease him about being handsome or cute, he gets all flushed and shy, he makes you wanna just nibble on his cheeks!
problem here? he does that with everyone.
he's an inherintly good person, so you can't blame him for it, you can only blame yourself for thinking you were special to him.
or are you?
SHOTO TODOROKI
you're a yapper. you're running your mouth twenty four-seven. and twenty four hours every day, he listens. quietly.
at first you thought he was just ignoring you, but he brings up what you babbled about from time to time.
you talked about your mom being in the hospital. the next day, your mom's calling you to tell 'your classmate i said thank you for the fruits'.
mmhmm. he gave your mom fruits as a 'get well soon' gift.
shoto listens to every word you say, even when you don't realize you're saying them
"i heard the smoothie at that new diner was good." next day, there's a take out smoothie on your desk
"remind me to get pads tomorrow." your desk is filled with every single kind of sanitary product you could think of, from wings, non wings, long, dry, thick, thin, day, night.
"does anybody have an extra pen-" he places his pencil case on your table.
you don't even have to ask him and he's already working on getting you whatever you want. swoon.
another thing that made you fall? he'll let you do anything to him
class is boring and you wanna draw? he'll give you his hands
wanna practice some hairstyles? his hair is incredibly soft and tame for that.
how about make up looks? wanna practice that? he's sitting cross legged on the floor of your dorm as you brush on whatever color on his face
he's totally fine with letting you do whatever you want. and you wanna know the best part? he only lets you do it.
DENKI KAMINARI
this man cracks you up with no fail
the way denki's so easy to talk to and have fun with makes you feel so safe and secure
he's got every kind of humor in his chamber
dad jokes? "what did the blanket say as it fell off the bed? oh sheet!"
corny jokes? "how many lips does a flower have? tu-lips."
dark humor? "why can't orphans play baseball? cause they don't know where home is!"
yeah- the last one you two whisper to each other during class and get sent out of the room for laughing too loud
you don't remember a day where you spent with him and you weren't laughing. you just feel so light and happy, he's like a drug to you
this dynamic between the both of you confuses people. some look at the both of you and think you're a duo misfit who constantly gets called out during class, and some give you teasing looks
when you started to notice these feelings for him, you couldn't help but grin at the thought of marrying your best friend.
what made you really feel for him though?
when you were sick for a day, your classmates came back to the dorms begging you to fet better quickly cause apparently the room was depressing
even katsuki cursed you out for being sick
apparently denki's mood affected everybody. and that mood was-
"today was tiring without you there." denki sighs, staring at nothing while the heat of his body beside you comforts you completely. it's always like this with him- warm, peaceful, happy.
"awe, did you miss me you big baby?" you tease, poking his side.
denki turns his head towards you, eyes holding a million words he wants to say, but for some reason, can't.
"i did." his eyes trail down your nose and to your lips. "so much."
your lips part, heart about to beat out of your rib cage. your mouth feels dry and you can't help the desire to tell him everything you feel for him- but you can't. you don't wanna risk ruining your friendship.
"yellow," he calls. ever since you laughed at his joke for the first time, he's been calling you yellow. he says your laugh magically brightens the room, the sight of your smile lifting the heaviness on his shoulder. "smile for me?"
and you do.
and he does.
and you know you're extraordinarily, remarkably, so very fucked when it comes to this man.
934 notes · View notes
lycastanne · 1 month ago
Text
whipped pro-hero!bakugou with supermodel!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pt 1
“wanna grab coffee together?”
“sure?”
that's how bakugou and you ended up in some overpriced coffee shop with 2 cups of cappuccinos. apparently bakugou knows you from your debut days because you've worked with his dad before. you both talk a lot, about your childhoods, books, movies, and musics.
“you should come to victoria's secret fashion show next week. im going to walk for them.”
bakugou isn't a big fashion person and he's doing his job as a pro-hero, there's no way he would come to some lingerie fashion show while there are other people who need help—
“sure, what time?” fuck it, there's a lot other pro-heroes like deku or shitty hair anyway.
“i'll email you the invitation.”
when he arrives at the red carpet, paparazzi immediately point their cameras to him and start interviewing him.
“dynamight, what brings you here? and who are you most excited to see tonight?”
“(name) (last name), obviously.”
“ooh, what kind of re—”
“can i go now? if you continue to yap i might miss her catwalk turn.”
“but the show doesn't start yet?”
too late, bakugou already walked away.
his pr manager could only smile and offer a polite “sorry” and pray that he wont be fired by dynamight's hero agency.
meanwhile you're in backstage, your makeup artist just finishing your makeup look. with glitter eyes, dewy complexion, glossy lips that matches perfectly with tonight's collection theme “deliciously sweet.”
“guess who attended tonight's show” one of the directors caught the models attention.
“we all know it's dynamight, it's trending all over the internet.”
“stop drooling ladies, because dynamight himself just said that he is only interested in (name) (last name)!”
instead of booing, other models just shoot you teasing looks, “ooh, the mother herself!” said one of the models.
you just chuckled and shook your head. “focus guys, the runway is about to begin.”
the models start lining up, you're the first one in line because you're chosen to open the show. with huge wings that shaped like cotton candy and pink lingerie set.
“1,2,3 (name) go!”
you start to walk with confidence. with each step you take, you can feel your wings jiggling. your eyes scan the audiences— spot him, that spiky blonde and crimson eyes that cant seem to look away from you.
she's gorgeous, stunning, breathtaking.
you winked at him. he might explode.
with that interaction, the whole internet breaks.
HOT NEWS: IS THERE ROMANCE GOING ON BETWEEN THE BIG HERO DYNAMIGHT AND THE SUPERMODEL (NAME) (LAST NAME) ?
dynamightfan1: the couple we dont know we need
user111: finally a good looking couple
user455: i just spotted them in front of my cafe last week, and he was arguing with someone lol
loveygee555: erm this is awkward
moonlightbabesz: so happy for them!
752 notes · View notes
notanactressyayy · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—
pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader
summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.
warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.
notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!
divider credits: @cafekitsune ★
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.
That changed when she met you.
You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.
But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.
Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.
Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."
When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.
This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.
Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.
As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".
"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."
You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.
"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"
"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"
"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."
You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have
"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."
You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—
"Back off."
"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."
Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.
"She said back off."
Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.
"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.
"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"
"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.
"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.
Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.
"I... followed you."
"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.
"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.
The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.
"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."
This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"
She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."
You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.
Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."
You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.
Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.
"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.
The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.
You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.
The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.
"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"
"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"
You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.
"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.
"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.
"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."
"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"
"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"
"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."
You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"
"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."
"...go on."
Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."
You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.
"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"
You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.
"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"
Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.
"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.
"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.
Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.
"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"
"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"
"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"
"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.
"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.
"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."
Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.
"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.
"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"
"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"
Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.
"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"
You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.
"Don't make me go away,"
"I could never."
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
transformersxreader · 3 months ago
Text
TFONE Starscream x Femme Reader x Yandere-ish D-16/Megatron (Part 2)
Tumblr media
/Part Two/
"Anything to report switchsky?"
(Y/n) ask turning to face the group of scout seekers that had just arrived, switchsky shakes her head
"Nothing to report commander (Y/n)."
(Y/n) smiles and laughs
"Please (Y/n) will do, get some rest."
(Y/n) pats switchsky's shoulders, walking off towards the throne area. Where she indeed found Starscream sitting in all his glory.
"Greetings my lord."
Starscream smiles a bit shaking his head,
"Anything to report from our seekers? My dear."
(Y/n) sat on left side of the arm throne, pulling up a hologram of cleared area scouted.
"According to our seekers this sector has been cleared and to the west, but I think for my
Seekers safety I'll check up on the north side myself."
Starscream grabs ahold of (Y/n) servo placing soft kisses and looking up to her.
"Always thinking of our seekers. But you know I can't let u go alone."
(Y/n) sighs hopping off the arm throne
"Fine. Fine. I'll take Boomer and Rushtrap with me okay?"
Starscream stood up from his throne, giving (Y/n) a nod of approval.
"Report back immediately once the north sector is cleared."
"Yes sir."
(Y/n) was just about to turn to leave but felt Starscream servo gently holds up her chin to meet his optics
"Be safe my dear."
(Y/n) blushes chuckling, almost tripping over her pedes.
Transforming quickly to her jet form and calling Boomer and rushtrap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"See anything mechs?"
"Nothing to report (Y/n)."
Rushtrap replies flying on her left while Boomer flew to her right side.
The three transform out of their alt mode landing on a cliff that had a great view of the landscape.
"Hmm..."
"Something the matter Bommer?"
Rushtrap ask making (Y/n) look back to the two seekers waiting for his response
"Something feels off..."
Boomers deep voice echos out till all their coms activated
"(Y/n) report back to base, some scout seekers found trespassers."
"We are a bit far but will arrive soon as possible. Let's go."
(Y/n) jumps off the cliff transforming and blasting off with a bit more speed, rushtrap and boomer transforming following behind (Y/n).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Y/n) lands at the entrance of base, noticing all the high guards were gather at the throne area. She looks back to see Rushtrap and Boomer telling them to join the others while she joins Starscream.
(Y/n) made her way through the crowd, the seekers making way for her to get to the front. Once she was in the open area she stops and sees four bots on their knees. The yellow one turns to see (Y/n) and yells out in excitement his arms shaking around.
"Hey!! Look! Look! It's (Y/n)! She's here too!"
The three other bots turn to see (Y/n), she gave them a confused look before realizing that the gray and red bot were the miners she encountered on her mission.
"D-16?"
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
D-16 optics widen seeing (Y/n) again he felt his spark beating rapidly, he tries to stand but a few seekers aim their weapon to him shoving him down on his knees again.
(Y/n) gave D-16 an apologetic look while making her way up the stairs standing beside Starscream.
D-16 seems to noticed that you were of importance to this so called "wanna be king"
"Do you know these bots (Y/n)?"
(Y/n) looks back to D-16 than to Starscream replying
"Just the grey and red one, they were just simple miners I've encountered during my mission to the Iacon mines."
Orion pax was glad to see a familiar face and just as he stood to say that they should work together to unite cybertron was greeted with guns pointed to him.
Starscream didn't believe in working together uniting cybertron, stating that one bot with the strength should rule/lead.
Every bot cheered at Starscream words making
(Y/n) sigh looking away, truthfully she would follow Starscream without hesitation, but wanted justice for all bots on cybertron and for sentinel to pay for his crimes. Is this really the only way?
She was quickly pull out of her thoughts when Starscream stood from his throne.
"HEY!" What are you doing?"
(Y/n) sees D-16 waking away but was block by two seekers, D-16 turns to face Starscream explaining why he wasn't going to coward away, making pity moves and pretending to be a so called king.
"I found out that sentinel is rotten today! (Y/n) was the only one to warn me about him! but I was too blind to see/hear her! And I'm going to make him pay for it!
TODAY!"
(Y/n) can feel his pain, his optics showing the pain and anger he has build up, waiting for it all to be released to the world. (Y/n) hesitantly steps forward seeing Starscream walking more and more closer to the angry miner.
"You think you could insult me?, And just walk away? No one leaves here unless I say so."
Now both Starscream and D-16 are face to face, D-16 looks down thinking to himself, making eye contact with Starscream
"Is that right?.....well how could say so? With my head in your teeth."
Without a second D-16 head bumps Starscream faceplate catching him by surprise. The whole crowd begins to cheer in excitement for the brawl.
"D!"
"Starscream!"
Both Orion and (Y/n) scream out in fear, Starscream flies up to deliver a kick to D-16, blocking it with his arms but was greeted with a blast from Starscream heel rockets.
Starscream flies straight into D-16 grabbing him by the neck, lifting him up till his back hits a piece of the broken ship. Starscream repeatedly punches D-16 on his stomach, D-16 quickly transforms his leg  kicking Starscream off.
D-16 lands on Starscream, giving him punches back onto his faceplate, Starscream encourages him to hit him harder.
Both (Y/n) and Shockwave look to each other thinking the same thought, just as they both were to step in, Soundwave lifts both his arms as to say let them continue.
Tumblr media
(Y/n) gave Soundwave a worried look, seeing D-16 hurting her Starscream. The crowd cheers out D-16 name encouraging the bot more, grabbing Starscream by the neck cables.
Starscream voice glitches out more and more as D-16 added pressure to his hold, D-16 angry seems to have come out when he lifted his arm ready to finish Starscream off. Till a large cannon transforms out aiming at Starscream, surprising everyone.
(Y/n) optics widen feeling her spark turn cold in fear, D-16 surprised as well. Talking a good look at his creation heavy breaths steaming out of him, aims his cannon more direct to Starscream.
"No! Please don't!"
(Y/n) steps forward trying to get closer to Starscream, D-16 gave her a stern stare.
"Stop! D! He's not the enemy."
There was a long pause. The atmosphere growing thicker of suspense.
(Y/n) lets out a breath of relief when D-16 pulls away his cannon, (Y/n) quickly knees down to aid Starscream. Holding him tightly, looking up to D-16 shaking in fear.
D-16 felt his spark pulse in pain seeing (Y/n) in this state but seeing her cowering to this so called leader. He could offer you so much more. Together you and him can get back at sentinel from all the pain he has cause.
You can be his.
"BARE WITNESS! THIS IS THE LAST TIME I SHOW MERCY!"
D-16 starts to claim that they should follow him to Iacon city and take their revenge on sentinel prime at this moment, aiming his cannon up shooting out a single charge. Everyone begins to cheer out his name.
"Are you okay?"
(Y/n) voice ask softly to Starscream, his voice glitches out when he tries to reassure her.
(Y/n) places her hand up to his lips, as in a way telling him not to speak.
"Please dear, I don't want you to damage your voice more."
(Y/n) looks around seeing everyone continue to cheer for their new champion, she felt her breath hitch in fear.
D-16 was looking at her direction, his optics seemed to have a more orange color to them. (Y/n) quickly looks away, her attention is back to Starscream. A loud bang can be heard from a distance, a flash of light.
The explosion happened so fast catching everybody by surprise, (Y/n) tightly holds onto Starscream who also holds back both sliding to the floor.
(Y/n) quickly pulls Starscream up pushing him away from the open area, just before Starscream was going to say something, (Y/n) transforms into her jet form. Attacking all the tracker bots down. She tackles one down, lifting up a fellow seeker telling them to take cover. (Y/n) aims up to the sky shooting down a few trackers before she felt someone tackling her down. (Y/n) grabs ahold onto their arms but felt a sting on her neck, looking up.
"A-airachnid!"
"(Y/n)."
Just has (Y/n) was going to aim her weapon at Airachind, she felt a large pain on her side of her helm, everything going dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long, I really took my time on this one,my apologies. I really appreciate your patience
The next one will be the final part, and I'll tell u D-16 is going to yandere-ish to yandere for (Y/n)
Again thanks for all your feedback and support it really means a lot to me! 😊
Peace ✌️
632 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 10 months ago
Note
omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership
And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”
Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle
Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...
Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?
Alastor: sureeeeee
And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit
and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”
And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)
I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3
A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.
Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.
Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Tumblr media
"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.
The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.
"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."
Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.
"Sure." she teased.
"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.
"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."
Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.
It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.
"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.
Y/n just shrugged.
"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."
Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.
"Sure."
They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.
Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.
He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.
Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.
"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."
Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.
"What a shame."
Y/n laughed lightly.
"I don't think so. It works well enough."
"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."
"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"
Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.
"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.
"Oh?" Y/n asked.
She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.
"Yep."
"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.
"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."
"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."
"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."
She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.
"Are you proposing we work together?"
"You're the one who said it, not me."
Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.
"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"
"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."
Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.
"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."
Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.
"Deal."
Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.
As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.
It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.
They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.
"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.
Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.
"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."
"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.
Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.
"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."
"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.
"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."
"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."
Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.
"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.
"Oh this is totally a date."
"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.
She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.
"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.
"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."
"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.
"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."
Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.
"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."
Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.
"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.
"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.
"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"
"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.
Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.
"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"
"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."
"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."
Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.
"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"
"Blue eyes?"
"Umm... yeah."
"Yep, that was me."
"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."
Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.
The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.
They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.
Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.
That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.
Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.
Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.
At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.
"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Y/n."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."
Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.
"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"
Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.
"What, you fucking want some too?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.
Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.
"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.
"He what?"
"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."
Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.
"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.
At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.
"Well, he's definitely dead."
Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.
"He deserved it."
Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.
"Can you walk me home?"
Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.
"Of course, my dear."
They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.
No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.
"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"
"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."
"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."
"I... It's about Y/n."
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"
"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."
"Spill."
"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."
"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."
"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"
"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"
"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."
"I thought your dad was dead?"
"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."
"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"
"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."
"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"
"Just something, okay?"
"I have got to quiz her about this."
"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."
"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"
"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."
"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"
"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.
"What are you, twelve?"
"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"
She sighed.
"Alastor, you have a crush on her."
A beat.
"I do not."
"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."
"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.
This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.
"Are you sure?"
"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."
"Fuck."
Mimzy laughed.
"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."
"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."
"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."
Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.
Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.
When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.
Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.
Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.
"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."
"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."
"The way... he ran?"
"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.
Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.
"Didn't you see?" she asked again.
"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."
"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."
She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.
"Alastor."
Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.
He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.
There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.
They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.
"I-"
"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Are you going to try to kill me again?"
"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."
Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.
"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."
"We will not be swingers."
Y/n laughed.
"Just had to make that clear."
"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2
1K notes · View notes
wcbblife · 3 months ago
Text
Paige as a mom HCs
a/n: so, I'm just going to drop this here and act like I didn't just stop writing for like months. Sorry people... I'll try and get some stuff out but it's so hard to write these days. Excuse any errors!
Beach days are a must for her. She loves to collect seashells with her kid so that they can make necklaces or even decorate their fishtank back at home.
“Mamma check this one out!” Paige cranes her neck back to see the huge seashell held way too close to her face. “Woah baby. I think that one’s way too big to take home.” She watches as Mia pouts, head dropping low together with her shoulders. “But... I guess we could make an exception.” Paige opens the small bag in her hands, smiling as she watches Mia waddle over to her and drop it in with the rest of them.
Unprompted 12 am trips to buy snacks with her kid.
“Mamma we’re out of string cheese.” Mia pouts, pressing on the dispenser at the top of the can, hearing nothing more than the air inside the tin. “Awe dang it.” She matches the pout on her lips, halting her hand currently opening the packet of salted crackers. They stay in silence and a smile settles on her face. “You wanna go with me to buy some? "Can we do that?” She leans in, whispering, as if she were afraid to get caught. “Sure we can,” Paige shrugs, “But you have to be quiet. Mommy is sleeping.”
Videogame house tournaments that always end up with you eliminated first.
“Mamma, I’m gonna beat you this time.” She squeezes her controller, little face twisted in concentration. “In your dreams, princess.” Paige chuckles, choosing her character on smash. “My money’s on Mia.” You mumble from the floor, currently situated between Paige’s legs. “Hey.” She hisses, squeezing your sides softly with her legs as Mia lets out a string of giggles.
She actually gets sad whenever she thinks about her kid moving out for college even if she's still a baby.
"Paige?" You call out from your room. You swear you've searched the whole house for her and no matter how much you call out you're met with silence. "I'm in here." She mumbles into the hallway from the nursery. You're quick to walk over, creaking the door open slowly. Paige is sitting on the rocking chair, baby in her arms. Even with your presence in the room, she can't seem to tear her eyes away from her daughter. "You ok baby? I've been calling you." Careful not to wake your daughter, you shuffle over to her, leaning down to whisper. Paige turns to look at you and that's when you see it. Her eyes are red, dried-up tears reaching all the way down to her chin. "You've been crying?" Instinctively, you reach over to cup her chin. "What's wrong?" A few seconds pass and Paige looks back down to her babygirl. "She's going to leave us." Confused, you freeze next to her. "What?" "Mia. She's going to grow up and leave one day" You chuckle, suddenly feeling a bit more relieved. "Baby, Mia's only a year old. You'll have some time between now and then." Paige's lips quiver again as the tears start to come back. You smile, bending over to plant a kiss to the crown of her head. "I'll make you some coffee sweetheart."
Her whole team is obsessed with Mia.
"Mia, come here." Paige calls for her, almost exasperated. No matter what she did Mia just didn't seem to listen. "You want to do press with me?" "Brink!" Mia shrieks, running over to the center with her arms extended upward. The blond smiles, bending over to scoop Mia up into her arms. "I can take her, Paige." Before Paige can get another word out, Cameron cuts in. "Seriously dude. I got her." Paige sighs, "Thanks, Cam." Cameron walks away into the other room and Paige sees the team huddle around the center to coo at her girl.
Paige's favorite thing is picking up her kid from school.
Paige watches as the teacher walks over to Mia, tapping on her shoulder softly and pointing where the guard was standing. Immediately, Mia drops the crayon on her hand, rushing over to Paige and hugging her knees. Paige picks her up, covering her face with kisses, enjoying the way that Mia giggles. "I got you something." Mia stops laughing, cheeks red from laughter. Paige shows her a bad, filled with cookies from her favorite shop. Mia hugs Paige's face, tiny hands barely circling around Paige head. "Thank you, mamma."
420 notes · View notes