#come back to it when you’re in your feelings again 😋😋

[lovecried]

₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡. CYBERGUARD !

thank you for signing up to cyberguard! we heard that you're looking for protection and you came to the right website. cyberguard is aiming to amplify the safety of people through the use and programming of robots to keep you safe. made to answer every beck and call, and more importantly, to provide you safely, we know we've got what you're looking for !

( series demographics. ) x-men, logan howlett, dark and violent themes & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 11,667 words !

╰┈➤ robot bodyguard!logan howlett & idol!reader, alternative universe, some political topics, blood & violence, minor character death, possessive/obsessive!logan, erratic behavior, manhandling, rough sex, full nelson, asphyxiation, some slapping, fingering, degredation, unprotected sex because he's a robot, dry humping, sadomasochism, squirting, etc.

( author's note. ) i wrote this in one sitting. no matter how many times ive written robot aus, i always have the most fun with it 😋 !! anyway, this is my first ever wolverine fic, so please be nice to me, im sensitive !!

You hated last-minute meetings. It makes you feel like you're right back in school again. Sitting around a desk as the authoritative figure looks down at you patronizingly. There's a moment of silence as you're waiting for your punishment, feet tapping agonizingly fast before being prompted to "stop," but not even thirty seconds later, you're right back at it. You've never had to receive punishment, fortunately, but your imagination was a wild one and you'd always see that scenario so vividly in your mind. 

Still, you hate them. Never tell what it was about until you're being beckoned in. Just like at school, where they would never hint at the good news, make you wait anxiously for time on end and send you into a near heart attack because they want to build up the anticipation. When in reality, it was anxiety that they fostered inside of you. You have an idea about what this meeting is about, though, so you shouldn’t completely lie. 

They’re probably going to be trying to conjure some ideas in regards to you and your safety after the attempt made on your life last night. You’ve become very vocal in political matters lately, letting the world know your stance on your current government and they didn’t like your response. You started getting hit with derogatory statements and slurs being spewed left and right, bigoted pieces of shit not afraid to tag you in their hate. Just like you, they shared a passion for their beliefs, but taking it to extremes. 

Building a strong mind and a stealthy rapport, you had become immune to the messages, going about your regular schedule as you had rehearsals and interviews set in place for your recently released music. However, in came the packages made to your company building. They were always vetted before you received them— hence why you’ve received none— but the knowledge that people were so hateful because of your opinions was enough to invoke a shred of fear throughout your body. 

Your management had seen this coming. That someone would try to make an attempt on your life, suggesting that they hired more bodyguards in your favor and limited the amount of fan meets and delayed your tour, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to show them that you were afraid because that meant they had the upper-hand in all of this. However, things have taken a turn as news has circulated of the events that transpired last night. You’re afraid that you no longer have a choice in this matter anymore. 

The blue lights do nothing in your favor as you sing on stage. No matter how many times you’ve requested that they be replaced by another color, a color that would suit your warm undertones, they still shine on you. You try not to have it seem like you’re a spoiled idol that wants everything to your beck and call. You’re not a tyrant, no, but you’re wondering if that’s what it takes for people to take you more seriously. 

Still, with your bedazzled mic in hand as you perform, you move on through the night. With a wardrobe made to suit your tastes and appearance to the world, the military green cargo pants hang off your waist and the black straps of your lacy thong shows. Paired with a pink bikini top and a ripped up wife beater that barely hides your breasts. Gold accessories best compliment you, but you make sure to keep it simple, afraid to lose any of your precious pieces out in the crowd while you perform. The Timbs are heavy on your feet as you move, but they help complete your look for the night. 

Your hair was in a simple updo, but some of the bobby pins have come undone, not strong enough to hold up your locs that have come to hit your mid back. The stray stands come to get in your way from time to time as you try to interact with your fans. Everything felt ordinary in your extravagant lifestyle. You were an enigma that could move your waist fluidly as you danced, enticing your crowd as they cheered and screamed. Background dancers that sometimes staggered as they forgot their routine.

It was only a split second when the round of shots halted all movement from you. Immediate instincts telling you to drop to the floor, your bodyguards starting to swarm you immediately. Screams of terror and fright came from those on stage and off stage, as you peaked over your left shoulder to try and see through the mountain of men trying to bring you to safety. You manage to get a shot of one of your dancers receiving aid from another and tears well up in your eyes. Another set of shots fire as you can hear one bullet lodge into the lights before you’re being properly escorted backstage. 

Not too long after were you informed that they caught the perpetrator— a middle-aged white man that had somehow made it through the metal detectors. Turned out that the device was faulty. 

They had given you the luxury to spend the rest of the night to yourself, a traumatic experience that not only affected you, but your fans and staff. Guilt started welling up in your chest as it ruminate all night to the point that you were unable to sleep, but that given grace of somewhat solitude (they stuck a few bodyguards inside and outside your hotel room) ended the moment you woke up to a call from your manager summoning you to speak about the matter at hand. 

You had arrived in less than thirty minutes, not bothering to freshen up like you should’ve. A hot and steaming shower could’ve calmed your nerves surely, but that would’ve also left time to ruminate for a bit longer. You didn’t want that. However, arriving on time early also wasn’t the best choice as they have you sitting outside the office door now. Two bodyguards standing by your slouched side. You’re tapping your feet rather annoyingly and you’re sure they want to tell you to stop, the sound becoming obnoxious, but they don’t. 

The moment the door swings open, you’re on your feet before your manager could even process your presence in its entirety. “Is Anna Marie okay? Are the ones that got hurt okay?” 

Your manager, Ororo, takes a moment before letting out a sigh. Shutting their eyes as they take their breath. She looks like she hasn't gotten any sleep either. She knows that evading your questions will get her nowhere, as you’ll continue to hound and badger her about them until you get an answer. She knows you mean well, but sometimes she wants you to be selfish rather than selfless. “They’re fine, love,” she states. “They’re in the hospital and expected to be discharged by tomorrow or the day after.”

You exhale in relief, one bodyguard heading in front of you as the other enters behind. Ororo trails in shortly after as the rest of management has already had their seats taken, yours being the only one vacant still. Pulling out the swivel chair, you take a seat. 

“Hello, dear,” Charles Xavier, the co-founder of X-Men Entertainment alongside Erik Lensherr, speaks with a warm smile. From the times that you’ve had your encounters with him, he was always sweet and kind, making it easy to reciprocate a smile in conversation. With a gentle nod, the corner of your lips turn but never meets your eyes. “I hope you managed to get an inkling of sleep after all that happened last night.”

“I didn’t,” you answer truthfully, meaning to lie, but it just came out. You chuckle, trying to play it off. “But the show must go on.”

“I’m sad to hear that,” Charles frowns. “I know it’s been very hard on you, and I can ensure that we have something in hopes to make this all the more… bearable, for lack of a better word.”

“Yes,” Erik nods, finally speaking as he sits up in his seat. Unlike Charles, his button-up fit snugly against his skin, tightening as he fixes his posture. “I apologize for being straightforward, but I think it’s time that we really focus and put emphasis on your safety. What happened last night should’ve never happened and part of it is on us to blame for not ensuring that all of the equipment worked.”

Unlike the plenty of record labels and entertainment studios that tried hiring you once they heard your voice and saw your incredible talent, you’ve always felt like X-Men was the most genuine of the bunch. They weren’t the biggest of the bunch, but they’ve managed to stay honest with you through it all, helping you to become the star that you are. And you’ve surely proven yourself as many more talents have come to start switching over to them. 

In a sense, they’re right. What happened last night shouldn’t have happened. The faulty metal detector had led to the harming of people and ultimately an attempt on your life. Others would have tried to blame it on the stadium, and despite the role they had to play in it, your company did as well. However, that fact doesn’t make you feel any better about the entire ordeal.

“And we’re all aware about your disdain for more bodyguards,” Erik continues, “however, your safety is our biggest concern and we must prioritize that right now. We’ve canceled the rest of your fan meet and greets and your tour is being delayed.”

There’s a long pause, as though they’re expecting a rebuttal from you. Maybe if you were in your right mind, you would’ve had one come off the top of your head, but you don’t. You’re exhausted, sleep-ridden and restless. Your mind is a mess, thinking about a lot of things, but can’t focus on one. Last night was a fright and though you wanted the upper hand all this time, you’re afraid that they had it all along.

You’re afraid, and you hate this feeling, so you don’t argue back. You don’t have the strength for it and you don’t want to. They were right the first time and if it wasn’t for your strong will and stubbornness the first time around, this could’ve all been avoided. 

Your silence is Erik’s assurance to keep going. “We think it’s best that you receive therapy so that you have a healthy outlet, and we’re hiring another bodyguard.”

“Okay,” you nod in understanding. Everything that’s been said so far has been reasonable enough for you to agree with. “I’m fine with that.”

“You’re familiar with Cyberguard, aren’t you?” Charles speaks, clearing his throat at the end. The question catches you off guard as you tilt your head in question. You’ve heard about Cyberguard, underneath a bigger corporation called Cybercore, it’s an initiative to amplify people’s protection. A bodyguard service, only that the security themselves, being a bulk of metal.

You’ve seen and researched their prototypes, eerily resembling human kind that it’s unsettling. Something that you were also against as you’ve become to question the overall objective of the company. It all seemed like a ploy to get rid of the human race. 

For the first time since this morning, your thoughts become more clear and coherent as you come to understand what Charles is silently trying to tell you. He’s seen your videos, heard the interviews of your political views, but never have you told him about your skepticism with the advancement of technology. However, he’s very perceptive and wise in his old age. 

“No,” you shut your eyes, shaking your head repetitively as you’re adamant on your choice. “I thought you said you would just hire more men— women— but not a robot to babysit me.”

“Yes, my dear,” Charles sighs, knowing that this was going to take a turn the moment he suggested it. “But, things have taken a turn and we’ve had other idols and celebrities use them, and it seems like this is the best solution—”

“What about Scott and Hank?” you gesture to your current bodyguards. “What will you make of them? Or will they just be fired and not have a stable source of income now?”

“No, they will be temporarily placed with someone else,” Charles answers. “You don’t have to have the Cyberguard permanently. Just until everything settles down and you’re safe.”

“I'm safe with Hank and Scott right by my side,” you retort, crossing your arms.

“You once told me that you really appreciated our honesty,” Erik interjects. “So, I'm going to be frank when I say this to you, (Y/N). You no longer have a choice.

“The Cyberguards are more stealthy and faster than the average human. They're built to exceed the strength and abilities of a trained marine. No offense to you, Hank and Scott—” Erik gestures towards them to receive a silent and curt nod from them. “— But, they're regular men in comparison to their abilities. They're valuable men that we don't want to lose, but just like Charles said, your safety is our concern and you're our biggest idol, right now.”

You know that they only want the best for you, but you keep shaking your head. “I don't like it,” you speak barely above a whisper. “Are they even properly tested? What if it malfunctions and something goes haywire?”

“They have been properly tested actually,” Charles nods. “The celebrities that have been assigned one have positively acclaimed their uses and like them quite a lot. If anything goes wrong, you know that we'll be quick to replace it.”

“But—”

“My dear,” Charles tilts his head pointedly. “I hate to say it, but Erik is right. You do not have a say in the matter, not unless you want the next headline in the news to be one dreadful and in mourning.”

With a huff, your shoulders drop. Fuck.

— 

Your new security has a name— Logan Howlett. And you’ve come to realize the appeal to the artificial being. While you have seen pictures of celebrities and their cyberguard, nothing compares to the real thing standing in front of you. Removed from its seven foot box and the styrofoam and wrappings, you would’ve mistaken it for being a real man— an attractive one at that.

You try not to audibly say anything as the handymen continue setting everything up for you in your luxury apartment. Barely home because of your busy schedule, now that you’ve been placed in a witness protection program as you like to call it, you finally have time to give it the homely and comforting touch it desperately needs. And hopefully (it makes you scoff having to say his— its name) Logan Howlett can make itself useful and do some of the heavy lifting.

“Wow,” Hank breathes, impressed by the cyberguard just as you are, though you’d never admit that. “I’m starting to feel less offended about what Mr. Lensherr said. This is a beast of a man.”

“Robot,” you correct him. “You mean, a robot.”

“Well,” he comes to the currently inanimate object’s defense. “It looks human, so might as well—”

“No,” you snort. “It’s not a living thing, so don’t give it the luxury by calling it one.”

“Listen,” Scott finally inserts himself into the conversation, sitting down at your dining table. “I don’t like this as much as you do. You’re right, after all. It does seem like the government wants to get rid of us, but maybe this thing will do you some good. Maybe it can help you more than we were able to.”

Since the concert, the two of your bodyguards who you’ve come close to to the point you consider them family, they’ve never really vocalized their opinions on the matter. They knew it would be too much for you and that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. They don’t want to be reassigned to someone else who might not show the same kindness that you have given them, but there’s enough guilt sitting on their chest as well to cooperate alongside Charles' and Erik’s decision. 

“Just like Charles and Erik said,” Scott continues. “This is temporary. Once people calm down and you’re in a safer position, we’ll be back to you in no time.”

“Do you really believe that?” you frown. “Maybe this is some sort of way to silence me? To play the part as being a public figure that’s silent. This goes against everything I’ve said!”

“Well,” Scott sighs. “Sometimes you have to go against your word in order to get to where you need to be. Plus, they expect you to lock yourself up, so if you stay true to your word—” Scott jabs you in your shoulder, raising his eyebrows in warning “— press won’t release an article about how much of a hypocrite you are.”

“Just…” Hank breathes. “Make sure to keep yourself safe for the time being, okay?”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” you smile in a jesting manner and pull Hank in for a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

“Oh, you’re so dramatic,” Hank reciprocates the hug, his embrace warm and comforting to you. It lingers for a second longer than ordinarily until he’s pulling away finally. “We’ll be back before you know it.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” you point at him. Hank chuckles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black pantsuit.

“I know you will.”

In another hour, the cyberguard finally lights up. Posture straightening as Logan’s eyes blink open. He has a rather gruff appearance, a scowl settling on his face as he scans his surroundings before his eyes land on you. He’s what the ancient Greeks thought of during the Hellenistic period. Features that seemed to be meticulously crafted by the Cyberguard designers. He has an oval-shaped face, dark facial hair that shapes it magnificently. His hair is styled in a particular way that has you chuckling. Is that why his last name is Howlett? Bouncy hair styled to resemble the ears of a wolf itself. 

His physique is just as spectacular as his facial features, glistening under the light that peers through your windows. His skin is tanned and bulging in muscle that isn’t just for design. His outfit is basic, a white t-shirt that hugs to his skin, a pair of denim jeans and dark boots. Scott reaches for the pamphlet on your coffee table. Leaning to your ear as he stands to your left with Hank at your left, he whispers, “Says here that he’s from Alberta, Canada. Previously a lumberjack—”

“Shut up,” you whisper back, nudging him with a roll of your eyes. Hank snorts, adding his two cents in, “Apparently these bots are designed after real people— ones that have served the country.”

“If you both are still trying to convince me to be fine with this, you’re not,” you frown. “How is that even ethical? And how does that even make sense if he’s Canadian?”

“It is, apparently,” Scott shrugs. “Says that the families consented to this. Seems like he was well remarked during his time.”

“This is absolutely stupid—”

“Hello,” comes a voice abruptly. It’s deep and robotic. “My name is Logan Howlett, previously known as Weapon X by the company Cyberguard. I have been assigned to service (your full name) as a source of safety. It is my pleasure to work with you.”

“That’s our queue to leave,” Scott says, making his way towards the door with Hank, leaving you baffled as the handymen start gathering their belongings and leaving the garbage for you to clean up. 

“Wh–What?” you choke. “That’s it? You both are just supposed to leave me alone with this thing?”

“According to Charles and Erik, yes,” Hank nods. “They said that within the first forty-eight to seventy-two hours, it’s best that the cyberguard gets acclimated to you as it goes through an update to familiarize itself with the… world. Says it’s not safe for more than one other presence while it does so. It’ll view us as a threat.”

“This is complete and utter bullshit,” you mutter under your breath as Scott unlocks the door. He gives you a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “We’ll check up on you when we have the chance. Message us if anything goes wrong. We’ll be available until the week after next.”

“Okay,” you slouch, watching as they give their final farewells. The handymen follow not too long after, leaving you alone with Logan. He simply stands there, watching you and your every move. When you go to the couch, he watches; when you reach for his instruction manual, he watches. From your quick skim of it, you cannot leave the vicinity of whatever area you’re in for the next hour or two so that it can memorize you in your entirety. It’s supposed to perfect its match when it begins to follow your every movement. 

You read through it all, about the questions you ask and what it knows how to do, which is very little outside of providing protection. You learn how to charge it and where it can’t function, informing you of an app that you must download. Reaching for your phone, you do just so as you quickly ditch the paper as you begin to tinker with the app, inserting your bot’s information. You turn on the television to help pass time, but with the meaty man standing before you, it’s hard to focus.

Fortunately, within an hour, he’s finally announcing, “I will undergo a lengthy period of software updates within my system. During that time, you are finally able to move freely, but please make sure not to leave the building whatsoever.”

You finally sigh as you immediately rush to stand on your feet. Your body had started to ache, stretching out your limbs as Logan’s head tilted down and his eyes shut. Underneath his white shirt, a light shines, it’s blue as it starts to hum. 

For the next two days, being on house arrest, you find yourself partaking in the hobbies and tasks that you never had time to do as an idol. It was fun picking up a hook and crocheting to your heart’s content. You didn’t have an idea of what you wanted to make, you just started creating. It brought you a sense of piece as you’ve come to terms about your current predicament. 

Your phone starts buzzing rapidly, multiple notifications coming in at once. You needed to take a break anyway, your hands starting to cramp and you’d hate to get carpal tunnel. You crack your knuckles before picking up your phone. Twitter, Instagram, Netflix with a new movie you’ve been wanting to check out, but most importantly, the Cyberguard app and Ororo. You prioritize Ororo’s message, opening it. You had asked about the condition that Anna Marie was in, one of your background dancers, wondering if the girl would be willing to give you her number so that you could stay in contact with her.

From Ororo: Anna Marie said yes. From Ororo: [ Anna Marie’s Contact Information ] From Ororo: In regards to the fans, they accepted your offer in paying for their medical bills.  From Ororo: But while this is happening, I really want you to look after yourself, love. I understand how you may feel as if this is your fault, but—

You don’t get an opportunity to finish reading the message when you hear a voice inside of your bedroom. “My update has completed and (your full name) is officially under surveillance.”

“Fuck!” you shout, dropping your phone on the bed as you shift around to see the culprit. The Cyberguard itself stands right at your door, taking in your bedroom and its disheveled state. Whenever you start crafting, your room makes sure to hold the evidence of it. The robot takes notice of it, looking at the floor. 

“The current state of your room is not safe to be in,” he states. “It is best that you leave while I prepare it for a more suitable state for you, Miss (Y/L/N).”

If you had paid closer attention to the Cyberguard notification, you would have known that Logan had finished its update, informing you that he was heading to your exact location. You clutch your chest as you finally calm yourself down. For something built to keep you away from fear, it does a very good job at inducing it. 

Of the two days that it spent updating, you’d walk past it and stare at it. You would contemplate on what everyone has told you about the Cyberguard and the pro’s that it presented, but you were adamant on not listening. The two days gave you a chance to really digest everything and your ordeal. If you wanted things to go back to normal, you had to cooperate. You couldn’t keep walking around with a stick up your ass and put yourself in danger again. While you still preferred to have Scott and Hank by your side more than anything else, you were clinging to the hope that this is what’s promised— temporary. So while you had Logan in your possession, you’ll make the best of it— you’ll have fun.

You test the waters, remembering that in the manual, he’s programmed to understand the majority of what you say as if he were a regular human. For everything he doesn’t know, he’ll undergo an update if requested enough outside of his scope. Some people who have Cyberguards in their possession have given you their experiences with them, saying that while they might be initially tasked to protect you and its their main objective, they do evolve into doing more. The idea of it all still creeps you out, sending a chill down your spine, but you start to accept it. You don’t want anyone else to come to harm because of your one-sided ideology. 

“Hello, Logan,” you say, tasting his name on your tongue. “How are you?”

He tilts his head in a way that’s robotic, resembling the movies you watch as the artificial intelligence tries to gain some more understanding. “I am doing well. How are you? Are you doing well?”

A week passes before you’re getting a phone call from Scott. You answer it in a heartbeat. “Took you long enough to call.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly on the phone. We got assigned to someone else sooner than we thought.”

“Excuses, excuses,” you sing, propping the phone in between your ear and shoulder as you stand inside the kitchen, Logan standing not too far away as you’re boiling a pot of noodles. You stir it, making sure not to have it stick to the bottom. “How’re you? How’s Hank doing? Who are you guys assigned to?”

“I’m doing fine,” Scott shrugs on the other line. “I’m with someone that’s actually pretty chill despite his cold attitude to the media. Dutch Duval— you’ve met him before, right?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “In passing. Good to see that he’s warm around you. I didn’t get that luxury.”

“Man,” Scott sucks his teeth. “That sucks. Maybe he’s a he-man woman hater.”

You laugh at the reference. “Nah, maybe he’s cool. He did seem to be in a rush when we were introduced. What about Hank? How’s he doing?”

“He got the short end of the stick,” Scott says. “Hired twenty-four-seven. The asshole won’t even let him get a break for himself outside of pissing, eating and breathing.”

“Damn,” you breathe. “That’s tough. Hope the jackass doesn’t try to keep him permanently though. He’s mine.”

You giggle jokingly, but Scott doesn’t meet your laughter. Only responding with a ‘yeah.’ “You’re asking so much about us, what’s up with you and Logan? You haven’t called us at all, so we can only assume he’s safe and functionable.”

“Yeah,” you hum. “He works. Can’t say much about him, though. Does what he’s told and always trailing me like a lost puppy.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be for too long.”

“Six months is too long in my book,” you scoff. 

“They said three to six months,” Scott corrects you. “You should be more optimistic.”

“I’ll try harder just for you,” your voice is monotone.

“I’ve got to go,” Scott comes to end the call. “I’ll talk to you whenever I can, ‘kay? Call me if you ever need anything.”

“That’s what I have Logan for, remember?” you point. “But, will do. Talk to you whenever.”

Scott doesn’t respond, simply ending the conversation there before you hear the line go dead. The water starts to bubble and you give the pot of noodles a good two more minutes before you’re pouring the majority of the water in the sink. However, as you’re pouring, you carelessly look away, the hot pot getting too close to your skin and burning you. You yelp in pain as you nearly drop the noodles down the drain. “Shit,” you curse, before you feel arms around your waist and pull you back. 

“Scanning area to see the severity of the wound,” he announces, grabbing a hold of your wrist, a flash of blue shining in his brown eyes. “Seems to be a first degree burn. Can be handled with ice or running underneath cold water.”

Still holding onto your wrist, he leads you to the sink as he moves the pot aside and turns on the pipe. This is the first time that you’ve been under any “danger,” rendering you speechless as you watch him in action. Shifting the pipe to blue, he pulls your wrist to the water. There’s a momentary sting before it resolves in a comforting feeling, you exhale as the pain leaves your body. Watching you and feeling how your heart rate eases back down, Logan asks you, “You are back in a calm state. How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” you reply. “I’m fine now.”

Letting go of you, Logan returns back to his previous position. “Due to your carelessness, I deem that cooking isn’t appropriate for you. I will undergo an update in order to learn culinary skills to better serve you.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Due to my carelessness? It was an accident.”

“An accident that resulted in you getting hurt,” he retorts.

“I don’t need you cooking for me,” you shoot back. “I can do it on my own.”

“My update will begin at the start of midnight and last for approximately twelve to twenty-four hours,” he responds. “You may finish making your meals until then.”

You continue watching Logan incredulously, continuously snorting and huffing under your breath about what he said. You're sure that he hears you, but has the knowledge to understand that he doesn’t need to answer back. If it wasn’t for his robotic way of speaking, you could swear you were arguing with a real person. 

Give the robot a chance, they said, you think, resuming fixing your noodles. If I knew it would be so sassy with me, I would’ve fought harder to not have it.

—

“The father is the murderer,” Logan announces from his side of the couch abruptly as your eyes are glued to the screen. Blue lights illuminate from the television screen in the dark as you’re covered underneath a blanket with a bag of Cheeto Puffs residing next to you. Logan sits up obnoxiously straight, a creation of perfection. You’ve managed to change him from his old attire, which proved to be harder as he was stubborn as a mule. Constantly arguing over your safety as he swatted at your hand from reaching for the hem of his shirt. Finally, you managed to convince him that because of the dirt, it could lead to you getting sick and potentially dying. His programming to be concerned over your very being worked as it was able to convince him to shed the shirt and pants. 

Your chest could burst from his incredible physique, his pectorals and abdomen lined and glossed. Every inch of his was thoroughly made as body hair veiled his chest, even more closely replicating a human. Is this how the original one looked like? You thought to yourself before snapping back to reality. Now, he’s sitting across from you, eyes glued to the screen with his arms bulging out in the black shirt all the same as the white. You furrow your eyebrows as you wonder just how he knows that bit of information, possibly spoiling the entire show for you.

“How do you know?” You ask, shoving a few puffs into your mouth and chewing.

“It’s best that you eat one chip at a time to prevent choking,” he advises. Over time, you’ve come to ignore him in moments like this. 

“How do you know that the father is the killer?” you repeat, elongating your question.

“His body language,” he simply responds. “He’s so calm and controlling of the situation that it’s so obvious.”

“But, it could be anyone of them,” you point out. “Everyone of the suspects has a motive to kill.”

“You’re right, but according to my research, it’s the father,” he spoils, causing you to slap the arm of the chair. You groan.

“Ugh, that’s cheating!” you exclaim, throwing your head back. “Now you spoiled the entire show for me.”

“Isn’t the entire objective of the show is to find out who the killer is?” he asks, confused as to why you’re upset. He thought he was doing you a favor by telling you who it was in order to decrease your levels of stress that he gathered from you. “It’s apparent to me that your stress levels have risen since starting this show. I need to decrease them for your safety.”

“Sometimes,” you start, “sometimes stress isn’t bad. There are some things that people are stressed about that aren't going to harm them. Like, television shows, crossword puzzles, and murder mysteries. And, it’s fun to try and guess instead of looking up the answer.”

“Is that so?” Logan’s eyebrows knit together, taking in the information. “I will surely have to update some more to better understand that.”

Recently, he’s been constantly updating for all sorts of absurd reasons. He always retorts that it’s all for your safety and to better understand how to fit your needs, but they’ve become about the most mundane things in life. One of them being the stupid joke, ‘why did the chicken cross the road?’ and how exactly is it meant to be funny. It’s adorable, closely resembling a child learning about the world for the first time and how it functions. You hate to say it, but you’ve come to enjoy his company.

The next time he watches anything with you, he makes sure not to do research in his database, simply going based on what he’s come to learn from your fondness of mysteries and films. 

“It’s going to be…” you twist your lip upward, squinting at the screen as you try to point out the possible murderer. “The pregnant girl.”

“How so?” Logan hums, skeptical of your choice.

“No one suspects the pregnant girl,” you say. “Kind of makes it badass actually.”

“Badass?” He questions your choice of words. “Murder is badass.”

“No, but being the underdog is,” you try to explain yourself. “The unexpected. No one will see it coming as the cops will believe it’s everyone else, but her.”

“That’s…” Logan thinks about your explanation, a blue glint in his eyes. “That’s smart actually.”

“I know right!” you beam. “I’m a genius.”

You’re right. Logan has been updating quite periodically, and every time he does so, it’s quicker than the last. Now a regular update from him only lasts for about an hour or two. He feels more connected to you. He feels more human this way. It started off innocently, trying to better his understanding about the human body and its health, learning that it ranges and differs in each person. Until it comes to other things that he noticed. What you do in your spare time, how you’re an idol and just what that is. Every single abstract thing he deems important and fascinating, he upgrades his database so that he can reference it when he needs to. 

He knows everything about you and what information the internet is willing to offer. He knows the name of your parents, where they’re from and the lineage that follows. He learns that you’re opinionated, very much so, and you have a disdain to creations like him. He can’t quite wrap his mind around it still, seeing how you seem so friendly, but you’ve noticed how you refer to him as an it, naming an object that isn’t alive. 

He comes to learn that you hate the concept of his very being because you feel as though he’s your competition to life itself. But of the two months that he’s been living here, he’s been trying to be equal to you to better keep you safe, to better understand you. There’s no way that he could compare to you when he wants to be your equal.

This fast-paced gain of knowledge makes him all too aware that he shouldn’t feel this way. That he shouldn’t be trying to grasp onto something that he’s not and that he’ll never be, but he was tasked to you. What better way is there to serve as your bodyguard if he can’t understand you in his entirety?

There’s a loud and hefty knock coming from your front door. Perched at the desk inside your bedroom, he watches as you jump up from your bed and dash out into the hall. Raising his eyebrows in question to who could have you so excited, he’s on his feet as he’s right behind you in a matter of seconds, ready to answer the door for you.

“It’s okay, I know just who it is,” you dismiss him, but he butts in and pulls your hand away. 

“I am still tasked for your protection,” he says. “That means answering the door and checking the vicinity for you.”

You no longer argue with Logan, letting him check through the peephole and scanning the two individuals through it— Scott Summers and Henry “Hank” McCoy. His mental files pull up that these two were your former bodyguards as you remember a conversation that you had previously, insinuating that he was only a temporary fix and not tasked to you forever. If he had a heart, he would proudly say it’d drop.

After he continues his check, he concludes that it is safe for them to come in. Opening the door for you and being the first thing they see when they enter. You frown as the door swings open, seeing how Hank and Scott were expecting to see you first instead of their replacement. 

“Oh,” comes from the lips of Scott as he comes unsure on how to greet Logan, so the robot does it for him. He holds out his hand, waiting for the gesture to be reciprocated. “Logan Howlett. Nice to meet the two of you.”

They stare at Logan with amazement, hearing how the cadence in his voice differs tremendously to how he was at first. They’re speechless and unmoving at first until Hank’s the one to break before Scott, taking Logan’s hand to be met with a strong grip. He nods politely, a tight-lipped smile forming on his lips. “I’m Henry McCoy. Everyone calls me Hank, though. This is—”

“I can introduce myself,” Scott nudges Hank, sending a playful glare. “Scott Summers.”

Scott feels the same pain that Hank experienced, taking Logan’s hand for a firm shake. Still, he smiles through it, already wary of the bot as something seems off about it. “I see you’ve kept our girl safe.”

“Your girl?” Logan inquires with the raise of a brow, eyes glancing between the two of them, having learnt the concept of jealousy. 

“Yes,” Scott smiles. “Our girl.”

Tired of the exchange, you remove Logan’s hand, it immediately loosening at your touch as you pull Scott and Hank in for a hug. “I’ve missed you guys so much.”

They both pull you in for a hug, but neither of them miss the way Logan watches them intently, noticing how his nostrils flare and his eyes flash blue. 

—

“I’m starting to understand why you were so hesitant on getting it now,” Hank gestures to Logan, who appears not to be paying too much mind to the two. His eyes glued to the television as he clicks between the shows. Hank’s left eye twitches, gently shaking his head as he watches from a distance. Scott shares the same concerns as well as he keeps some distance from Logan, residing on the opposite end of the couch. Unbeknownst to them that he hears it all. 

“Getting what?” you ask oblivious to what he’s referring to, sitting around the dining area with him. Looking at you in confusion, Hank notices a shift within your behavior. Where you were once angry and stiff at the prospect of a Cyberguard, you’re now seemingly comfortable with it inside your house.

“Logan,” Hank answers. “The cyberguard.”

“Oh,” you purse your lips, it dawning upon you. “Yeah, well, I took your advice and gave it a chance. I spoke to other people that had a cyberguard and they all said that if I gave it a chance, they could be very useful. And he is.”

“But,” Hank squirms, trying to word what he’s about to say perfectly. “Doesn’t it alarm you? How attached to hip he is to you?”

“He’s been like that the moment he finished updating the first time,” you shrug.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I mean, don’t you find him too human? The way he acted when he first came— how he’s watching television right now?”

“He’s just doing what he’s been programmed to do,” you take it so nonchalantly, dismissing Hank’s concerns. “And like I told you, everyone I spoke to said that was normal behavior. They evolve to better suit your needs.”

“I don’t know, (Y/N)...”

“Listen,” you exhale. “I still want you guys as my full-time bodyguards, but I have four more months left because the messages and the threats still haven’t cooled down. So I have to play it cool and go about my days as if it’s regular. He’s not a harm to anyone and if he becomes one, you and Scott will be the first people to know about it.”

You and Scott will be the first people to know about it. 

“Okay, fine,” Hank breathes, your apartment starting to feel uncomfortable. His voice picks up as he pushes out the chair. “Y’know what? We gotta go.”

“Huh?” you question the sudden movement. “Wait— what? Hank, nooooo.”

“Something just came up and we need to be there,” Hank motions to Scott to follow him, which doesn’t go questioned as he gets to his feet as well. Your chair legs scratch against the tile floor as you look from between the two, going after them as they hurry to the door. 

“Don’t be serious, Hank,” you pout. “Scott, please! We barely had any time together.”

“I think two hours was enough time,” Hank remarks, catching you off guard. Mouth going dry, you stop in your trail as your body stills. They make their way out as Scott throws an apologetic smile your way. “See you later, (Y/N).”

Storming to his vehicle, Hank doesn’t wait for Scott to catch up to him, simply unlocking his doors and jumping in. When Scott catches up, he only looks at Hank before waiting for him to speak.

“There’s something wrong with that bot,” Hank states the obvious.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Scott snorts. “What did (Y/N) say?”

“She referred to it as if it was a person,” Hank looks at Scott. “She never usually gives in so easily.”

“Well,” Scott shifts in the seat, reaching for the seatbelt. “We did tell her to try to.”

“Yeah, but even so,” Hank shakes his head. “There’s something wrong with it. Staring us down as if we were stealing his girl. Questioning us— ‘your girl?’ That’s (Y/N)’s living nightmare and she didn’t seem to suspect a thing.”

“You’re right,” Scott mumbles. “We definitely have to report our suspicions. That thing isn’t safe for her.”

“You’re telling me,” Hank exasperates, finally starting the car engine, putting the car in reverse. Pulling out of the spot, Hank looks towards your apartment, immediately noticing the window. There Logan is, glaring right at the two of them.

“And there goes the fucker,” he curses. “Watching us.”

—

When he’s finally outside of his eyesight, he shuts back the curtains and trudges back to your slumped body on the couch. For them to have the nerve of showing up to only put you in an upset state. Logan has never seen you like this before, it elicits a certain reaction that feels carnal and violent. He clenches his fists, nails digging into his faux skin before he feels something piercing it. It’s only a sliver before he retracts and goes back into a calming state, but he felt it— whatever it was. 

“You’re not okay,” he states. “Would you like for me to start the shower for you so that you can relax?”

He remembers you mentioning that the shower was your only time where you got to properly relax and think. The heat of the water calms you down to the point you’d stay until the water gets cold and your skin resembles a prune. He wishes he could experience that feeling with you. He’d need it in a moment like this where he feels something flaring up within his chest. 

Pushing yourself to sit up, you nod. “Yeah, maybe that’ll do some good.”

He does what he suggested, heading straight to the bathroom in order to start the water. Pushing in the plug and sprinkling in the bath salts for you before turning on the pipe. He sets it close to red, waiting until he recognizes the scent of lavender and patchouli and sees the steam starting to form. He teeters and plays with the temperature before the water is at a reasonable height before switching off the pipe, and announcing that it’s ready.

It takes you a moment to get up from the couch, shuffling your way towards the bathroom. You don’t acknowledge his kindness, never thanking him before you shut the bathroom door and twist the lock despite the many times he’s advised you not to. He ignores it, turning on his heel as he heads straight for the door. In his database, he pulls up Henry McCoy and Scott Summers. 

When you get out of the shower, it’s too quiet. However, your mind is fogged with hurt to even care. If anything, Logan’s silence is a blessing right now. It’s what you need. Reaching for your towel and you unplug the drag, hearing the gurgling sound of water traveling down the pipe. A shower was exactly what you needed, though you still feel emotions bubbling on your chest as your sadness turns into anger. You feel foolish for being mad at Hank’s concern, but you knew the moment he stood up that it was bullshit as to why he was leaving.

You had cooperated with everyone. You did what they told you to do for the couple of months that you’ve been placed on house arrest. You constantly checked in with Anna Marie and the rest of those who got hurt, knowing that they’re in better and healthier conditions now that the months have passed. You stayed silent on social media and rarely checked in, but now that you are complacent, just like it was expected of you, Hank had the audacity to be mad at you. 

Logan’s behavior was questionable, you couldn’t doubt it, but you believed it to be the way he was programmed. To be locked inside for so long to the point you barely left the house, and when you did, it was to go on your patio. He had been skeptical of your neighbors, eyeing them down and collecting information in a manner of minutes. He needed to know who could be a possible threat to you, and maybe, just maybe, saying “our girl” had flashed some red flags in his hard drive.

The bath wasn’t enough, you conclude, pulling on a baggy t-shirt and shorts before diving onto your bed. Sleep would have to be the final blow.

—

The claws that stretched from his knuckles were covered in blood and the flesh he cut into. Two lifeless bodies before him laid there as he bent down to rip out a clean piece of fabric. He’s done research on Cyberguard, learning that there is something wrong with him. In his files, none of it mentions the metal claws coming out of his hands. But, that’s the only flaw he has come to accept.

He’s been gone for too long, and while the sky is dark, there’s still a possibility that you’re still awake. He’s grateful to know where you’ve stashed your spare key. However, with one look at him, he’s dirty and you’d know that he’s been out. Having never left your side, he doesn’t want to take a chance seeing you speculate his whereabouts. 

Cleaning the blades that protrude his skin, he finds one thing about his robotic state useful. He has no fingerprints. Inside of Hank’s apartment, it becomes Logan’s personal closet as he rids himself of his clothes and replaces them with something new and similar to what he previously had on. He wipes down his boots, however, not stopping until it shines and fixes his hair. When everything about him seems like nothing is out of the ordinary, he’s finally ready to leave. 

However, through the windows, he starts to see the flashing of red and blue. He’s seen too many films and documentaries to know that it’s not a good sign. He’s grateful that he never planned to leave the way he came in, quickly searching for another escape route. Sliding the patio door open, he shuts it back quickly before making the long jump, not caring how it may affect the inside of him. He was made to withstand many things, so this fall shouldn’t be a heavy detriment. He grunts when he makes the landing, dashing out of the light as he quickly conjures up another route back to you. 

By the time he locks the door, taking a step into your apartment, you’re fast asleep. You’ve left the television on and by the way that there’s no dishes in the sink, you fell asleep on an empty stomach. He huffs at your lack of care for yourself. Luckily, there are leftovers to which he can feed you when you awake. He switches off the television before making a beeline straight to your bedroom door. It’s shut and when he twists the handle, it’s completely dark inside. He inches closer towards you, where he can check on your heart rate, when he notices that it’s at a pace to when you’re waking up. Your voice sounds before he can completely register.

“Logan,” you squeak, voice scratchy as you take a seat in the bed. You reach to turn on your bedside lamp, revealing your disheveled and exhausted state. The t-shirt you’re wearing has been cut around the neck, to the point where it can fall and reveal your breasts. “What have I told you about watching me like a creep?”

You giggle, indicating that you haven’t detected a thing, still completely unaware. Great.

However, his eyes roam you, taking notice of your pert nipples and how they poke through your shirt. Your bonnet is sliding off your head, and your eyes are still burdened with sleep that he now completely understands the sexual appeal. He feels something whirr inside him before he’s taking a seat next to you without a word. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he breathes. “I’ve watched your movies, seen porn and watched men and women have— same sex and the opposite gender.”

He can feel your heart rate pick up as you become more awake, processing his words. “Logan, what—”

“I want to try out what I’ve learned,” he cuts you off. Your eyes widen as it comes to dawn on you that maybe Hank was right. That maybe you have become blinded and completely oblivious to the way Logan acts. You start to question your colleagues and everyone else who's told you about their experiences, always hinting at more, but you never caught on to what they were saying. They said that Cyberguard could always do more, that you could work them to your own benefit. Was this what they meant by that? 

Before you can utter out another word, Logan’s invading more of your space and you can feel the heat of him on you. “Don’t tell me no. Please don’t tell me no.”

Your breath hitches because you should be scared. You should tell me no and part of you does, but you’ve also grown curious. His eyes shine blue at that moment, and you gulp. Your body speaks for you, reaching to cling onto the fabric of his shirt. Something about it feels foreign to your touch, but you don’t question it. You question none of it, only staring into his harsh brown eyes and nodding. “Okay,” you whisper. 

It’s all that he needs to hear for confirmation, pulling you tight within his hold as he wastes no time in putting you on his lap. Staring into your eyes before they traverse down your body, how no matter what, you always manage to shine. He tugs at your shirt, pulling further down to reveal your breasts. Your dark nipples pebbled and sensitive as they scrape against the fabric and your breath hitches in need. Your hips buck into him, hands wrapping around his neck dig your fingers into his skin. It feels soft, the texture closely imitating the real thing. 

“Logan,” you gasp, feeling how his pelvis meets you at your core, eliciting a string of your juices at the friction. Seeing the desire in your eyes, the visceral want and need inside them. It’s all he’s ever wanted. It makes him feel equal— equal to you. His hand reaches to caress your face, feeling the hairs against your skin before squeezing down gently and making your lips pucker out a bit.

“Tell me that you need me,” he whispers, voice growing huskier as his hold gets tighter. “Tell me how much you want me.”

“I need you, Logan,” you give him exactly what he wants, hips rising as your heat only grows. “Need you and want you so badly… It hurts.”

You don’t know what you’re saying, not sure if you’re telling him that he’s hurting you or that if the ache in your sweet cunt needs to be alleviated to the point it hurts. The ladder feels more true as you clench around nothing, a coil in your stomach starting to form in a want that you’ve never experienced before. Staring back into his pupils that shimmer of blue is still there. “Tell me you love me.”

“I—” you choke, not sure if you’re able to muster up those words, remembering that he’s not real. You splutter as his hand wraps around your neck, squeezing to the point you can barely breathe. “I—”

In a matter of seconds, you’re on your back, the wind knocked out of you before you can even process the change of positions. There’s something maniacal about the way Logan looks at you now, the fine lines on his forehead fixed in fury as he searches through eyes, staring down into your pupils for the truth. “Don’t worry,” he assures you. “I’ll make sure you learn to.” 

His lips crash down into yours, feeling the wetness of your tongue as he sucks you in. His weight against you keeps you still, trapping you in your dared to move. Your arms still draped around his neck, cling to him as mewl and whine at the pressure of his weight. Bucking your hips ever so slightly, feeling your arousal cling to your panties and seep down to the crotch of your shorts. 

Is this right? A sense of rationality seeping through you, residing deep in your bones as something nags at your chest. Your sense of morality, what you’ve been using your career to fight for. This goes against it. However, the more you fought, the more people got hurt. Flashes of Anna Marie plaguing your memory as your rapport against Logan weakens in a matter of seconds. You sought for a change for it to only falter and nearly end lives. So is it wrong to give in once more? 

Logan starts to thrust his hips into you, grunts and groans that he replicates from what he’s seen, his motion sensors feeling his appendage rub against your pussy and eliciting something within him— lust. “You’ll be mine by the end of all this. You won’t be needing them.”

You have no clue as to what he’s talking about, focusing on yourself and the need you have for Logan right now. His kiss is rough against your skin, your saliva softening the contact as he hums against you. He nips and bites at you ever-so-often, nearly drawing blood until his sensors go off. He feels like an animal, needing you in a way that’s entirely inhumane. The adrenaline of killing your former pets still coursing through his veins, proud to be your only one as of now. As of forever. 

“Let me have you whatever way I want,” he commands. “Give me permission to.”

There’s no doubt in your mind, quickly to oblige him without a second thought. “Of course. Yes, Logan.”

Your shirt tears, a loud rip sounding through the silence of your bedroom. It’s a true show of his brute strength in your eyes, but for him, it’s not even an inch to what he’s truly capable of. The next he rids you of are your shorts, leaving your flimsy panties for last as he can see the wet patch right at the crotch of it. A thumb presses down on it, just as he’s seen through many videos. However, he’s not gentle when he pushes down on your clit, seeing bubbles starting to form through the cotton. 

You mewl in slight discomfort, squirming underneath him that he slaps your inner thigh and demanding that you stay still. One hand holds you down to make sure of it as he glides his thumb up and down, feeling your wetness. “Mmmm…” he drags, feeling satisfaction at how he’s making you feel. 

He slips your panties to the side, it being the one thing he doesn’t want to damage through this intercourse. His thumb pushing right at your entrance to feel how your body tenses at the invasion. “Relax,” he whispers. “You know I would never bring you into real harm.”

The reminder settles you down as he spreads your legs wider for him, his thumb protruding your walls and getting a taste of what it feels like. The both of you moan in delight, his thick digit pushing until the hilt. However, it doesn’t fill you up like you want and need, ultimately needing more of him. He’s dead set on tormenting you, fucking you languidly and slowly with his thumb. He basks in the squelch of your pussy, how your arousal bubbles and drips out of you and down in the crevices of your ass. 

“Logan,” you whine. “More.”

“Do you think you deserve it?” he retorts, pulling out his thumb to glide against your folds and back up to your clit. “Do you think you deserve more?”

“Yes, I do,” you nod meekly. “Know I do.”

“Is that so?” he hums, and you can only nod some more. He chuckles, thinking about Hank and Scott once more. How you were so eager to invite other men into your home. Not considering him and how he’d feel to other men around you. Did you really care so little about your own safety? But, he’ll still give you what you want— what you need. Maybe it’ll be the best medicine to heal you. 

Pressing his thumb against your lip, he pushes down as they stay closed. “Open,” he commands. “Taste how wet you are for me.”

Just the obedient girl you’re proving yourself to be, you open up your mouth. Immediately, your tongue swirls around his thumb, cleaning off your arousal. Eye contact remains with him, eyes seeming to sparkle as you hum and moan around his digit. A violent groan builds up from the pit of the chest as he can only imagine the other men you’ve been with. It’s enough for him to yank you by the waist into him and flip you around, treating you as if you’re a ragdoll. 

Your back is to him now, pressed against his chest. You can still feel his clothes on, realizing just how vulnerable you are as he moves you against his clothed state. His arms wrap around your neck, bulging out to cut off the flow of air. Veins protrude and it becomes dizzying as he whispers in your ear. “You’re a nasty little slut, I hope you know that.”

Everything about this is exhausting. The quick and swift changes in emotions, how he goes from being needy and wanting to manhandling you as if you’re nothing. From wanting you to tell him that you love him to degrading you. You can’t wrap your mind around it as his grip tightens around you and your vision becomes fuzzy. He fluctuates with his hold, knowing just when you’re about to lose consciousness and not. He’s coming to find it to be a fun game, toying with your safety. 

“Only I should be the cause of your pain and pleasure,” he seethes into your ear. “Do you hear me?”

When you don’t respond, you feel a sting against your pussy. You yelp out at the pain as he repeats himself, “do you hear me?”

It’s menacing and guttural to the point where you’re tearing up. You nod as you croak out, “yes.”

“You’re going to take what I give you, okay?” He waits for your approval. “Just like you promised from before. No going back on your word because you’re a good girl.”

He affirms this before he’s rolling his hips, making you feel the bulge against your ass. One arm around your neck as your hands cling to it as the next pulls your hips into him. He continues at this until your breathing is erratic and he’s done his tormenting. 

Then he shuffled around to tug down his jeans, ridding himself of both the garment and undergarment, but not before kicking off his boots. They fall to the ground with a clunk as his jeans pool at his feet and he can hear them rubbing together before they’re successfully off. You can feel it against your back, how it’s large and inhuman. Eyes that bulge as you arch your back.

“Logan, you’re so big,” you gasp. “Don’t know if—” 

He hushes you with another smack, this one softer than the previous. Shhh follows after as he calms you. “You promised, didn’t you?”

You can only hum out a response as the bicep around your neck tightens. 

“You’re a strong girl. It’ll fit.”

Arms reaching underneath your legs, holding underneath the joints of your knees to lift them up to your chest. He pulls you up, making you rise until he can slot his dick in between your folds and your underwear. With both of his arms occupied, he can only have faith within the band of fabric to keep his length in place. Strings of your juices drip down to the sheets of your bed, small droplets being absorbed as you coat his cock in your essence. A sweet nectar that many people want to taste, but he’ll be sure to prevent it from happening. 

He bounces you on his lap, letting go of your legs and pressing himself further against you. There’s many things that he wishes himself to do. Like the ability to get hard, to be able for you to feel just how you make him feel. For precum to leak from the tip of his cock and not the illusion of a hole just for the accuracy of his design. He wants you to feel him twitch inside you before he cums, shooting ropes of white as your pussy milks him. However, he can only align his cock with your entrance and make you feel good. But, how is he supposed to feel equal to you if he can’t replicate a real man?

He takes his time entering you, his head testing the waters before he’s entering inch by inch. He can press into your stomach, feeling where his head stops as he can’t fully sheath himself inside you. Just as you had claimed. He was too big. Still, he upholds the power as his arm goes to wrap snug around your legs, lifting them up to push into your breasts as the next blocks you from smooth breathing. 

He’s no gentleman as he’s painted himself to be, laying on his back and pulling down with him. Drilling into your cunt with a vice grip around your body that you constantly are on the very fine line between passing out and consciousness. Still, your mind stays warped within the pleasure, focusing on how it’s making you feel and wanting him more. Your room is filled with the sound of yours and his moans intermingling with the slaps of your wet pussy and his dangerous thrusts as the stench of your cunt seeps through the conditioned air. Your cunt squelches, queefing every so often as it gets wetter. Tears staining your face as you call out his name and begging for more.

You cry out in pleasure, feeling how his cock beats down at your walls, kissing at your cervix. Constantly hitting that one spot inside of you that he has you seeing stars. You’re starting to choke out your moans, trying to make a coherent sentence out to him. “Lo-Lo— ‘m g’nna…”

You don’t have to finish what you’re about to say for him to know. Your body convulses and pulsates as he continues, keeping the same vigorous pain as he’ll have your pussy bruised and battered by the end of it. “C’mon,” he groans into your ear. “Cum like the good little bitch that you are.”

With a few more thrusts, a translucent mess splashes from you, splattering at great lengths from your sheet covers and down to the ground. Your body vibrates and spasms as Logan’s hold on you eases and he lets your body calm down. You’re breathing heavily as your throat’s gone dry and the dark and splotchy vision clears up. You exhale sharply as you come to terms with everything. Your naked body and Logan’s cock inside of you. He’s planting chaste kisses against your neck and jawline, holding you close to him. 

“Now you’ve got everything you need.”

—

The next morning, you wake up clean, except for your sheets. You can still feel dampness from your release as well as the arms that hold you close to them. You let out a yawn, squinting as the sun dares to peek through the blinds as you see your phone lighting up and over one hundred messages flashing over it. Some from Charles, others from Erik and the rest from Ororo. Glancing at Logan, he remains in slip mode, the light where a heart would be lighting up yellow. 

Plenty of the notifications are from incessant missed calls that rang from five in the morning until now before an urgent message reading, Call as soon as you wake up, from both Charles and Erik. The next set of messages you check from Ororo, having called you back to back as well before these rows of messages.

From Ororo: From what I’m guessing, you’re asleep and your phone is on silent. When you get this CALL ME. From Ororo: You’re still not up and it’s important that you know what happened. I’m sorry. From Ororo: [link attached]

You click on the link, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, absentmindedly clicking the link. The video you’re brought to is on medium volume, but it seems like it’s at full volume the moment it starts playing, just as Logan’s light turns to green.

This just in! Two men found dead inside of their shared apartment home. Neighbors have reported loud and worrisome sounds at the dead of night, saying it sounded like a very brutal fight before screams of pain sounded through walls. When police arrived, the two bodies were found in such a gruesome state. 

They were seen to have three deep gashes in their skin, closely resembling an animal attack before being impaled in the chest. It’s speculated to be an animal attack, but authorities are speculating as the escape route seemed to be through the balcony door and having jumped five stories down. They’re battling between who or what could’ve done such a monstrous thing. 

The two victims that were identified were Henry McCoy and Scott Summers—

Your phone is snatched from your hands as you choke out a sob, having caught a glimpse of their faces on screen. While Logan would typically tend to your tears and heartache, the news outlet blinds him from doing so as he turns off the video and sets your phone down on the opposite side of you and out of reach.

“You shouldn’t burden yourself with such things in the early morning.”

( author's note. ) my back mfing hurts from writing this pretty much all day. i hope you guys love it because i really enjoyed writing this.

[rafecameronssl4t]

omggg I have oneeee🤭

ALSO I LOVE YOUR FICS

so fmc is out with her bestfreinds, the kook boys- Kelce ,top and rafe for lunch and waiter Sofia attempting to flirt with rafe but our man only has eyes on his girl. ♥️ mc ends up teasing rafe after the incident cause of the attention he’s getting and rafe teasing her back asking her if she’s jealous hehe

Jealousy, Jealousy || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: half of me feels bad about Sofia in these type of fics but remember Rafe wants YOU and ONLY you 😋

Warnings: nothing really :)

Word count: 836

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

“She’s coming again,” Kelce muttered under his breath, nudging Rafe with a knowing smirk. Rafe fought the urge to roll his eyes, the annoyance evident in his tightened jaw. Topper chuckled, both he and Kelce watching as Sofia approached their table, her steps light and deliberate.

Her presence was unmistakable, and her eyes were locked onto Rafe. “Hey, anyone need another drink?” Sofia’s voice was bright and cheerful, but her gaze lingered on Rafe just a fraction too long.

He resolutely kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, focusing intently on a spot somewhere behind Kelce, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his attention.

Topper glanced at Rafe, sensing his discomfort, before answering for the group. “Nah, we’re all good here, thanks.” His tone was polite but firm. Sofia nodded, her smile unwavering. “All right, just let me know if you need anything.”

As she turned to leave, her eyes subtly drifted over Rafe, as if hoping for a reaction. Rafe’s frustration simmered just below the surface, and he couldn’t suppress a scoff. Fishing out his phone, he quickly texted you, his fingers tapping out the message with a mix of impatience and frustration.

From the moment they had arrived at the country club for lunch, Sofia had been constantly hovering around them, her attention mostly focused on Rafe. No matter how many hints he dropped about being content and committed to his relationship with you, she just didn’t seem to get it.

Rafe: When are you coming?

Y/n: In like 10 minutes!!!

Rafe let out a sigh of relief as he read your reply, his tension easing slightly. Shutting off his phone, he cast a hopeful glance towards the front entrance, silently wishing you would appear any second.

After about ten minutes, the front doors swung open, revealing you and Sarah. Engaged in lively conversation, the two of you walked through the entrance, laughter bubbling between you. Rafe’s face lit up at the sight, and he immediately stood up, making his way toward you with an eager smile.

As Rafe strode across the room, Sofia rounded a corner, her eyes lighting up as she saw him heading in her direction. “Hey, Rafe—” she began, her voice hopeful. But Rafe didn’t even glance her way, brushing past her without a second thought, his focus entirely on you. The smile on Sofia’s face faltered, her heart sinking as she turned to watch him.

“Hey, babe,” Rafe greeted you warmly, his hands finding their way to the back of your neck as he pulled you into a deep kiss. Sarah, standing beside you, rolled her eyes and let out a mock gag. “Jesus,” she muttered, shaking her head before wandering off to give you two some space.

You smiled into the kiss, feeling Rafe’s affection and urgency. Pulling away slightly, you chuckled. “What was that for?” you asked, your eyes twinkling with amusement as he peppered kisses along your cheek.

“Nothin’, just missed you,” Rafe mumbled against your skin, his voice low and filled with sincerity. You couldn’t help but giggle at his tenderness, feeling warmth spread through you.

With his arm wrapped securely around your back, Rafe guided you towards the table where his friends were seated. As you approached, Kelce and Topper exchanged knowing looks, smirking at Rafe’s obvious delight. Sofia, now back behind the bar, watched from a distance.

“Thank God you’re here,” Topper quipped as you approached, a grin spreading across his face. “I thought Rafe’s jaw would break from all the clenching he’s been doing.” You raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to Rafe, who was pointedly looking away. “Why? What happened while I wasn’t here?” you asked, chuckling.

“Sofia’s what happened,” Topper continued, and your confusion deepened. “Seems that pogue’s got a thing for your man here.” Rafe let out a scoff. “You think? She could barely keep her eyes off me.”

You glanced back at Sofia, who quickly looked away when your eyes met. “She kept looking at you, did she?” you asked, your arm protectively wrapping around Rafe’s neck. He smirked, enjoying your reaction.

“Aren’t you popular with pogues these days, hmm?” you teased, giving Rafe a playful nudge. He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Mhmm, you jealous, baby?” Rafe asked, his tone light and teasing.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “‘M not,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I know you’re mine anyways,” you shrugged, feeling his smirk against your skin as his hand came up to rest on your hip. “Always,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

[hoshigray]

Request! Geto never had to worry bc reader basically never interacts with guys. That 3we until he saw her hugging her male coworker and now he has to put her in place if ykiwm😋

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh yikesss, possessive sugu incoming, oof. lmao this is lowkey like the one i did for my kinktober, but what the hell

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; Geto is a jujutsu tech sorcerer - shibari; rope bondage (cross-chest box tie, frogtie) - sex toys; use of a vibrator - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pleasure denial - mild possessive behavior - pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl, my love, sweetie) - cameo: Gojo - mention of drool/saliva.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

“Hahhh…ahhaa, Sug’ruu, I can’t…Mmm!”

“Aww, are you feeling well, my love? You look awful.”

And whose fault would that be?

Geto removes his jacket to put aside one of the chairs of the many desks. He stretches his sides and cracks his neck, releasing a massive sigh after a long inhale. He’s now relaxed that he’s back in his classroom. 

However, he isn’t the only one here. Someone he knows is here with him — waiting for him to return. And Geto’s lips curl into a smile once he looks down to see someone on the cold wooden floor.

You were in nude form, clothes sprawled to the side of you. A long red rope contorts around your body, binding your arms behind your back with your wrists tied together. Your thighs and ankles were restricted together; the red ropes tied the leg together to that of a frog-like position. And a red blindfold covers your line of sight. You were whining and writhing in this bounded position. Why? 

Geto slowly walks around you to take in the view, noticing that the vibrators he placed on your body were still where he had left it. Your nipples had a vibrator taped on to each, and the buzzing noises made Geto’s skin crawl. There was another set of bullet vibrators buzzing down south. Three white wires are connected to a remote lying on the floor, and they seem to be stuffed inside the wet entrance of your chasm. So, five vibrators are teasing your body all at once. What a hell. 

He comes down to your level, bringing you up with a hand to lie on his propped knee, and your breathing so low and hushed. “How are you feeling, angel?” He lifts the blindfold to have you peek at him, noticing your eyes are puffy and wet. Poor thing was crying for him.

“Sugu…” You called him by his nickname, a tool in hopes of getting on his good side. “Can you…please…”

Dark eyebrows raise, “Please what, pretty girl?” He shields your eyes again and slithers his hand down from your chin to your neck, and he loves how your breathing lessens when he approaches your breasts. He pulls off one taped vibrator to free the bud. For a moment before he blows on it, “What do you want from me?”

“Can I—Ohh!” His tongue flicks your nipple; it’s so sensitive and sore! “Can I please…cum…?”

“Ahh, what a dirty girl,” Geto chuckles to you as he kisses your mound, his hand now traveling further down to the three wires on the floor. He gently pulls one, a loud noise of one vibrator bumping into another. “You were doing so well being patient for me. I have one more meeting, baby; why can’t you wait after that?”

Your breathing gets shaky, leaning towards his frame to get through. “Because...Mmmm, I want you to make me feel—Ohh…! Good...”

“Is that right?” More laps around your nipple before he sucks it in. “You want me to make you feel good? Not Satoru?” You gulped at the mention of the other’s name, feeling Geto’s intense, indigo gaze on your face. 

In all honesty, Geto admits he can be a jealous man — especially regarding you, his sweet angel. The reason why you’re in this situation is because your partner saw you hug another man yesterday. Satoru Gojo, the dark-haired man’s best friend of all people! Granted, it was because you were only giving a gift of sweets to the tall sorcerer because he came back from a terrible, dangerous mission with Geto. And the white-haired fool, oblivious to personal space as always, brought you in for a hug as he thanked you for the bag of sweets you handed him. 

Putting his hands on you did make Geto unpleasant, yet this was Gojo we were talking about; the guy acts like personal boundaries don’t apply to him. However, what did upset the man more was you reciprocating the embrace with a cheerful smile — a smile only Geto was to bear witness to. It twinged his heart – cliche, but it did. You toyed with his feelings, and he had to correct you for such behavior. 

The man increases the intensity of the vibrators inside your cunt, and your body jerks unexpectedly. He then slides a finger inside your vagina to play around your walls with the toys, and you have to remind yourself not to scream as his fingertips scrape the velvet texture. “You hurt my feelings, sweetie,” he listens to your whimpers get higher and higher as he increases the speed of his finger. “You know I’m not one for sharing — especially with Satoru.” 

“Hahhh, Sugu’uuu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ You press your lips together to suppress a moan once Geto takes your nipple back into his mouth, pushing the nub to the roof of his mouth and skimming it with his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes your frame at the addition of another finger inside you, and more tears well up from how much stimulation is happening. “Nmoohh, please, I won’t do it again…”

“You promise?” He whispers into your ear, slowly removing his fingers to increase the intensity of the vibrators inside you. Those same fingers now go to your clit where he swipes in slow circles, and you nearly choke on your spit. “Tell me, who’s my favorite girl?” 

“Mee! I’m y’re favorite…!” Despite the ropes tightening around your ankles and thighs, your lower half still jolts to his touch on your delicate pearl, trying to sway your hips to move with the friction. 

“And who’s your only favorite man in this world?”

“You, Sugu!” Oh, the way you desperately said his nickname was so pathetic to hear — so sweet. He couldn’t stop the sneer from flourishing on his face. “You’re my favorite—Mmmph! Always…”

Good girl. “You wanna come so bad, baby?” His thumb and forefinger rub against your clitoris, evoking cute squeaks to fly out your drooling mouth. You nod hastily; that’s not what he wanted, so he pinches your clit. “Words, pretty girl, words.”

“Yessh, please let me cum, my love…!” Now that’s what he wanted to hear, being all cute and pitiful for him to grant you what you’re craving. And you can feel it coming, your nerves heightened with the climb of your orgasm.

But then, you sense his fingers gone from your clit, the cold air occupying their absence. Instead, he puts the vibrator that once teased your nipple back and rests your figure onto the cold wooden floor once more. Your brows screw together with quivered lips, “No, pleaseee! Don’t leave me again!” You whined.

Too late, he was adorning his jacket and heading out for the sliding door of the classroom. “I’m sorry, angel, but I gotta get to this meeting first. Don’t make too much noise while I’m gone, okay?” God, you pulled his heart the way you helplessly laid there. “Don’t give me that look, my love. I’ll be right back when it’s done.” He steps outside and closes the door behind him, swiftly locking it while checking for his surroundings.

And it was a good thing he did, too. Because right around the corner came his best friend, Gojo, the blindfolded sorcerer, retrieving the raven-headed other. “Yo, there ya are, Suguru! The meeting’s about to start; don’t slack off before Yaga comes for our heads.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he walks alongside his companion, heading to the other side of the hall. 

“Hmm, by the way, where’s Y/n?” The white-haired man inquires while scratching his ear. “I haven’t seen them since this morning.”

Geto hums to the question, the shrug of his shoulders to seal the deal. “They felt sick all of a sudden, went to go see Shoko to check.”

The taller sorcerer tilts his head with a scoff. “Who said you were a good liar?”

“You’re one to talk.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[draconic-desire]

Gosh i just loved your Sunday fic.. 😫

Im wondering what about a naive type darling? With so much isolation, it has made darling insecure. Darling thinks Sunday deserves a better woman and just ups and leaves Sunday when he isnt home. But ofc is soon found not long after 😋

ohhhh so personally i imagine this happening after sunday uses the harmony one too many times on poor reader…you never saw it coming, never would have thought sunday would hurt you despite being isolated for so long. any thoughts you had about escaping, even going outside to see friends, are obliterated. sunday becomes your whole world.

Yan!Sunday x Naive!Gn!Reader

You’ve been standing in front of Sunday’s door, fist raised and poised to knock, for twenty minutes now.

For what feels like the millionth time, you lower your hand, worrying your lip.

He’s been in there all day. Sunday is a busy man, his schedule constantly filled with meetings and Family affairs, but never too occupied that he would ignore you for an entire day.

Your mind fears the worst; even those initial days of being drowned in the Harmony, before you realized Sunday was trying to help you adjust to your life with him, is preferable to this. Did you do something wrong? Who is he in there with? Is he ignoring you?

Has he…grown tired of you?

The mere thought chills your heart and fills your veins with ice as you take a step back, inhaling sharply.

The wooden door before you is polished to a fault, bright enough that you can see your faint outline. It bitterly reminds you of how inferior you are compared to him, a mere speck of dust, a fleeting shadow on the wall.

You start to spiral. Surely Sunday, the most handsome and sought after man in Penacony, could have his pick of anyone—so why would he settle on you? Why did he bring you here, trap you in this mansion, keep you by his side, if only to throw you away in the end?

Did he never love you?

Why does that thought hurt you so much?

Heart pounding and tears blurring your vision, you quickly turn and flee, your knock forgotten.

~*~

It has long grown dark on the streets of the Golden Hour.

The normally bustling city is slumbering, the only light provided by the plethora of flashing billboards that never sleep. The few individuals you have passed are either drunks stumbling home or the stray Intellitron. You’ve been walking aimlessly for hours, wiping away tears and fruitlessly searching for a way to escape to reality.

After all your time mulling in your sadness and insecurities, you have come to the conclusion that you should relieve Sunday of his care of you. He’s much better off without you, or rather with a better individual than you. He should be dating royalty, a celebrity, an angel. The type of person who would have knocked on that door, would have strutted confidently into his office and sat directly into his lap to—

Another pair of footsteps echo behind you.

You almost don’t hear them at first, but you most definitely see the haloed shadow on the wall in front of you.

“And where do you think you’re going, (Y/n)?”

You immediately freeze, your breathing becoming erratic and shallow. His voice sends little butterflies pounding against your chest, begging to fly to him.

“Do you really think this pathetic attempt to escape would succeed?” A hand wraps around your waist, spinning you around to meet golden eyes rimmed in violet. You expect them to be filled with anger, perhaps even loathing, but you’re shocked to discover they are brimming with nothing but thinly veiled panic.

His grip tightens when you don’t respond immediately. “Answer me, (Y/n).” His voice cracks as he says your name again. “Where have you been?”

Words clog in your throat. “I—I thought—you were—you didn’t want—”

“I’ve been searching everywhere for you. You weren’t thinking. I believed we had moved beyond your futile attempts to leave, that you understood that you are mine—”

“But what if I don’t deserve to be yours!”

The two of you freeze in the wake of your outburst. His breath hitches as you lower your head and whisper softly, “I thought you stopped loving me the same as I love you.”

For once, you’ve caught Sunday off guard. His beautiful gaze widens in shock as he truly takes in your form—shivering, tears rolling down your cheeks, nails digging into your palms—and realizes his mistake.

You left because you thought he didn’t want you.

The mere idea baffles him. Standing before him is the most beautiful individual he has ever seen. Every fiber of his being screams for him to lock you in a birdcage and throw away the key—you are a precious treasure, meant to sing only for him. He has created you to be the perfect devotee in his very image.

And all of his efforts have succeeded, because you said you loved him.

His anger and fear immediately melt into softness as he holds your face between both hands, his forehead lowered to press against yours. “Oh, darling, no. You cannot fathom the adoration I harbor for you, the multitude of praises I wish to preach each day in your name.”

His voice takes on a nearly holy reverence, but his eyes shine with an untamed desire. “There is nowhere you belong except for by my side. Finding you missing this evening nearly tore my heart out. You must never venture out again, do you understand, my precious dove?”

You sniff and lean into his touch, a smile parting the river of your tears. Yes, that’s right. That’s what the Harmony said before, too: your purpose is to please Sunday, to serve Sunday, to live for Sunday.

Why would you ever doubt his love?

Why would you ever want to leave him? What a silly idea.

You think you feel a tiny pull at the back of your mind, a hook that wants to tether you to reality. But a quick slash of a knife severs the line, leaving you floating in a sea of multicolored bliss.

“I’ll never doubt you again, Sunday. I love you.”

Sunday’s lips curl into a smirk as he lifts your chin and examines the rainbows dancing in your eyes. “I love you, too, (Y/n).”

[classyrbf]

(You said I should send it again here so 👀)

Can we please get something about how we sit on true form Sukuna face? 👉🏻👈🏻 Two hands gripping your thighs, two hands (and his hand mouths 🤭) playing with your tits 🫦

Please, I just know he is messy nasty ass eater 😋

EAT IT UP! — RYOMEN SUKUNA

SYNOPSIS...short little oneshot/drabble about sitting on sukunas face until you’re overstimulated

INFO...true form!sukuna x fem!reader, oral (f!receiving), face sitting, nipple play/sucking, sukuna using the mouths on his hands, overstim, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you for the request anon!

“Ryo!” You whimper, hips stuttering as shivers fall down your spine. Your body littered with goosebumps, yet still on fire, a light sheen of sweat coating your skin. From below, Sukuna continues his work on your clit, licking, nibbling, and sucking at the sensitive bud. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, hands holding onto the headboard as your third orgasm approached quickly, tears brimming your eyes.

He grunted below you, sucking up every last drop of your arousal, his greedy tongue hungry for more. His arms tightened around your thighs as you struggled above him, crying and whimpering because it just felt so good. “Please, please, please,” you gasp, letting out a high pitched moan right before cumming on his tongue again. Your entire body quivers, bolts of pleasure shooting through you like electricity. “Oh my god!” You scream.

His free hands run up your toros, ghosting over your most sensitive areas, trying to get you riled up for his own personal gain. You’re too lost in your head, too struck with ecstasy to even notice what he was doing. You feel him cup your tits, squeezing and groping them in his large hands. You nearly fall forward, but he quickly catches you, holding you up all while running his tongue up and down your soaked folds. With eyes barely open, you look down at him, his narrow red eyes staring right back up at you, watching how you come undone before him.

You let out a small whimper, feeling wet tongues glide around your puffy nipples before flicking up and down. “I can’t, Ryo, not—ah—anymore,” you mewl, eyes fluttering shut. But he doesn’t listen, he just craves your taste, wanting to see fat tears run down that pretty face because you can’t take what he’s giving you. “Oh, f-fuck,” your voice shakes. Your hands grip onto his forearms, gripping so hard you were sure to leave marks on his skin.

He lifts you off his face just for a moment to breathe, chiseled face coated in your slick, a devious smirk on his face as he licks his swollen lips. “Is it getting too much for you, huh?” He asks in mocking voice, chuckling at the face you make when you feel a little tug as your nipples. “You’re done when I say so. Remember that this pussy is mine. You’re mine.” His tongue is right back on your pussy within a matter of seconds.

Your brain in practically mush, the only thing on your mind was cumming over and over, nothing else. You were so fixated on the pleasure no matter if it was too much or not. Your head falls back as you let out a blissful sigh. He lets out a satisfied moan below you, messily eating your pussy like it was his last meal. “Gonna…cum…fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your eyes roll back, thighs squeezing around his head as your entire body shakes. “Yes! Yes! Ah—shit!” You squeal. Your tired body collapses against the headboard.

He lets out a muffled laugh beneath you, giving your clit one last suck before lifting you hips from his face. He’s panting, chest heaving up and down as he tries to catch his breath. He removes his hands from your tits, caressing them down your stomach. Your entire body feels weak, fragile, like if you tried to stand on both legs you’d collapse. “I’ll never get tired of the way you taste,” he admits.

You know he isn’t done with you, not in the slightest. He takes pleasure in seeing you melt, turning into putty in his hands. He wants to hear you beg, cry, moan, and everything in between. Question is, could you handle anymore?

[gatorbites-imagines]

Love me some bratty wolverine but I NEED my obedient sweet sub too 😋 wolverine who's just so desperate for praise and being told he's good, needy and never knowing how to properly ask for it and just ending up whining and pleading to near tears.... letting you take all the control and being so frightened and uncertain until you're showering him with reassurance and praise

Logan Howlett x male reader

Headcanons

Super exhausted, we did an event as my new education place (what do you call the place you take a bachelor’s degree in english?) that went until ten in the evening, so I’m still pooped. Hope this is still enjoyable though.

How’s everyone else been doing lately? This ended up being more focused on the comfort and relationship part of it, but I hope that’s good too.

I believe the Wolverine from the Deadpool and Wolverine movie would be the type of Logan you are looking for. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, has been hurt so much and lives with such a deep guilt and self-hatred.

In the beginning he wouldn’t show it, especially if you were someone who knew him, or some variant of him, in the past. He has an image he needs to live up too, or at least that’s what Logan thinks.

To him, he doesn’t deserve anything nice or soft. He doesn’t deserve to be loved or cared for, which in the end just ends up being his Achilles heel. Logan has starved himself so much for any kind of affection or care, that when he starts loving somebody he becomes like a dog.

Not a happy wagging panting dog, no. more a starved, dirty, covered in cuts and sores, kind of dog, desperately pouncing on the tiniest sliver of food you throw his way.

In the beginning, Logan would try to deny these feelings completely. Again, he doesn’t think he deserves to even love somebody, especially not somebody as great as you. So, he tried to suppress it. but that only adds onto it. the stuff we try to suppress only comes back stronger; didn’t you know?

That’s why he tries so hard to stay cold, rude, mean, anything he can to chase you off. If you leave first, then it wont matter, right? But damnit, you stay. And you just seem to cling on tighter the more he struggles, like those dogs so used to fighting and snarling at everything for their own safety, finally being taken in by someone whose patient enough to love them, and wait for them to feel safe.

And when Logan finally starts to feel safe, letting down his walls little by little and oh so slowly reaching out. Then he becomes insatiable. In the beginning its small things like standing closer to you, his leg pressing against yours, him bringing you stuff that reminded him of you.

But soon he can’t help but be all over you, only when you’re alone though. You end up with 300+ lb. of hairy gruff Wolverine, glued to you like he needs to be close to you as much as he needs air to breathe.

This is also where you discover that he completely melts when you run your hand through his hair or beard, his eyes almost rolling back as he arches into your loving touch like a sunflower reaching for the sun.

This dynamic also follows into the bedroom. Here Logan starts out thinking he’s gonna be the one in charge and on top, as he’s always been in past relationships.

But when you show signs that you like to make the orders and tell him what to do, Logan is honestly relieved to let the ropes go, falling to his knees with a lump thump and crack, the floor splitting under his weight and desperation to just be good for you, to be loved.

You never thought you would see Logan of all people cry, but you quickly learn that praise is the way to get him there. You were terrified the first time he started silently crying as he rubbed his face back and forth on your knee, a minor tremble in his shoulders. But you learn it’s because he’s so overwhelmed by the fact that somebody actually still loves him.

Logan has spent all this time being in charge and being on edge, that he’s almost desperate and begging for you to take charge. Hed crawl down the street on a leash if that’s what you wanted, all that matters to him is your love, your praise and acknowledgment.

Of course you wouldn’t do that, and you worry a lot about his comfort and safety. It doesn’t take you long to realize that Logan will bend himself backwards to please you, even go further than he’s normally comfortable with.

This leads to you having to give him a scolding that has the mutant falling to his knees and clinging onto you, as if you were gonna leave him behind too. Communication has been and always will be hard for Logan, but over time you pick up his physical cues.

You still like to have him tell you in words what he wants though, just to be sure, but also for him to practice. Even when he’s near tears in pleasure you still want Logan to tell you what he wants, how, and where.

You two always end your times together with a long cuddle, the cuddling lasting longer than what you did before since Logan soaks up your love like a sponge that just never seems to end. You swear he purrs, even if Logan denies it vehemently.

[mimasroom2]

Sex w stoned Ellie 𓇗

Tried to write something short for once AHHHHH. May or may not have been high while writing this ugh I need this so bad. I’m soooo used to writing things VERY detailed so this was kind of a nice challenge. I love the way she smiles ugh my silly girl ♡

C/w: weed. SMUTTTTT!! :3. Els eatin you out😋.

W/c ≈ 400

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

Thinking of Ellie coming over unannounced. She smells like weed. She told you she walked to your apartment.

You scold her for walking by herself when it’s dark. She argues it’s not even that late, plus she has her pocket knife on her. You roll your eyes and start to make her hot chocolate. She gently takes it out of your hand, sets the cup down, and harshly smashes her lips against yours.

She can’t keep her hands off you. “Ellie.. how much did you smoke?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, princess.” Her words are slightly slurred. Maybe from the weed. Maybe from feeling you.

She pushes you and you grab her towards your couch. She’s kissing you so hard her tongue goes down your throat without any hesitation. You moan, and she sheepishly laughs into you.

She’s taking all your clothes off. At least she’s trying to. She’s still giggling to herself, about god knows what. Perks of her being high. And she’s fumbling greatly with her sloppy movements.

You take all your clothes off, gently pushing her back so she can watch. She grins at you with her eyes still red, looking at you like you’re the best thing she’s ever seen. Because you are.

She’s making a mess with her mouth on your neck. Every move she does feels hazy and not enough. You tell her you need more. Her arms snake their way down your body. Her toned fingers touch you, gathering up your wetness and bringing it up to your clit. You both sigh into the feeling. She circles you faster.

She’s muttering to herself again. “Mouth too dry…” and she locks her lips back onto yours. Little bitch using you for her dry mouth. She gets distracted and starts giggling to herself again.

You politely whine for more, “Ellie… cmon, please…..”

She snaps out of it and briefly apologizes, trying her best to focus.

Once she starts kissing and slurping at your pussy, she is completely locked in. You can feel her smiling against you. She raises her face to look at you with that same sheepish grin every time you’re close. She’s sooooo fucking pussy drunk.

Something about the way she’s being so sloppy yet delicate turns you on even more, until you can feel you’re about to cum.

You beg her not to stop, her cute little face is buried in you, and you wish you didn’t have to cum so it never has to end. “Ellie- fuck, Els don’t stop don’t stop..”

You groan as your orgasm takes over your mind and body. You can hear Ellie’s almost creepy little giggles as she’s still against you, “Heheheheh….” She’s probably so proud of herself.

Ellie smiles and sloppily wipes the wetness from you off her face. She’s looking up at you and you laugh tiredly. You decide you want to capture this moment of her forever in your mind.

[tan1shere]

Babydoll

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: enjoy whores ;) - had to get this out asap because it turned out SO yummy imo 😋

Summary: Seeing the rolling stone interview and what your girlfriend had said, when you get hot and bothered by it you end up infront of that mirror as she makes a mess of you.

Warnings: smut, rough billie hehe - but also slight soft dom cuz I cant escape it !, fingering, eating out. Just filthy filthyness ! As per <3

Masterlist

Your eyes were wide slightly, reading your phone screen. Billies rolling stone interview had finally come out and you had read most of the stuff before hand, until you reach a certain part.

“TMI, but self-pleasure is an enormous, enormous part of my life, and a huge, huge help for me,” she says. “People should be jerking it, man. I can’t stress it enough-

Eilish likes to masturbate in front of a mirror. “Partly because it’s hot, but it also makes me have such a raw, deep connection to myself and my body, and have a love for my body that I have not really ever had,” she says. “I got to say, looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking ‘I look really good right now’ is so helpful. You can manufacture the situation you’re in to make sure you look good. You can make the light super dim, you can be in a specific outfit or in a specific position that’s more flattering. I have learned that looking at myself and watching myself feel pleasure...

Your face blushes as you continue to read.

Your eyes expand, you most definitely weren't expecting that. Even though you knew that about your girlfriend it wasn't really talked about often. She might of mentioned it once or twice, But now you were reminded of it. Thinking about it..-

"Whatcha reading." You then hear her behind you from your spot on the couch. Your phone stumbles out of your hands, turning to look at her as you grab it again. "W- oh, nothing important." She didn't believe you for a second. "What're you hiding huh?" Her sexy smirk appears making your legs cross tighter. She leans over going to grab it but you move so she can't. "You cheeky minx what is it." She looks down into your eyes, her head tilting. Wow she was intoxicating. Like a drug.

She notices you being distracted and snatches it from you. "Hey!" Her eyes read over the screen, a evil grin plastered on her face. She looks back up to make eye contact with you. "You're reading that part hmm." You feel the words slipping from your brain, not answering. "Enjoying the thought?" You subconsciously squeeze your thighs again. Shrugging. "Come on pretty girl, jus me. Know what you're thinking." She says placing her hands on the back of the sofa, leaning down to your level.

"What am I thinking.." She hums to herself, getting impossibly closer to your face. "You're thinking about me touching myself infront of that mirror in our bedroom." Your mouth goes dry at the intensity of this moment. "Having nothing but you on my brain and how fucking hot you are." Her voice was low, causing the tiniest noise to come out of you. When you realize you did your eyes widen. "How cute." Her mind then gets a great idea, her fingers grazing your chin. "Why don't I show you exactly how I do it, care to be the test dummy? Babydoll."

Your head moves up and down, about to lean in to kiss her but she moves back. Smirking down at your whiney reaction. "Naww. Just let me play with you then you can get all the kisses you want." You stand up with a slightly annoyed sigh. Her hand instantly goes for your neck in a warning manner, noticing your eyes rolling just after you breathed out. "Don't make me regret saying that baby." You nod gently, biting your lip slightly at the way her hand grabbed your neck. She lets go heading into your shared room. Her hands reach for your shirt instantly pulling it off, moving to your shorts next.

One of her hands skillfully unclasps your bra, letting it fall down your shoulders having your breasts spill out. Her hands then pull your underwear down, and there you were completely naked in the dim room. She bites her lip, looking over your entire body. She then goes to sit on the bed, opening her legs and bringing her knees up. Patting the spot infront of her. "Come sit." You do as told sitting against her front, looking into the mirror infront of you both.

"This is going to be fun." She smirks.

Her hand gently cups your face again moving it so you're looking in the mirror. "You'll look at yourself, watch my hand. Watch your face. And if you don't. Well. I'll just deny you. Ok baby?" You nod slowly, but her hand slowly moves around your neck. "You wanna answer me properly angel?" You gulp. "Y-yes, look at myself. Got it.." Her mouth moves to your ear. "Good girl." Her hands then move to rest on your knees, getting you to spread them more showing off how wet you already were as it glistened.

Your breath starts to pick up as her hand moves down your thigh, inching impossible close to where you so desperately need her. You absent mindedly move to spread your legs more, having your head rest back on her shoulder. She smirks at you in the mirror, maintaining eye contact. Her fingers touch your clit slightly, having your mouth fall open at the feeling. She watches. You watch, slightly understanding what she meant about feeling hot while doing this. But the fact she was the one doing it was even hotter.

You watch her finger move down to your entrance watching as it disappears inside you. A tenderly moan rips from your mouth, you wanted to look away shut your eyes but you remember what she had said. You got this..

Or you didn't, cuz as she speeds up and inserts another finger. Your body starts to squirm feeling your eyes shut in instinct. "Uh uh, open." She snarled in your ear. You do open your eyes again, still feeling your body tremble. "B-Billie.." You breathe out, watching her bite her lip again. "Watch my fingers baby. Watch how they slide in you so effortlessly." You whimper truthfully not being able to handle such pleasure this was bringing you. "Bill i-" "Watching it disappear and sooo deep too." You moan properly now, louder than you had done before. You throw your head back against her shoulder as she speeds up.

"Come on sweetheart." She says, trying to get you to focus. Her hand makes contact with your jaw getting your limp body to look. You look at how fast she's going watching her fingers. You for some reason didn't particularly want to look at yourself. Did you feel embarrassed for how pathetic you may look right now. "Come on baby, give into the pleasure. This will only work if you look at yourself ok?" Your head partly nods. You go to look shyly blushing as you look at yourself. But your head gets thrown back onto her shoulder again as you let out the dirtiest moan.

She didn't like the fact you weren't looking, grabbing your face and getting you to look at her directly. "You don't wanna behave and look? Lay on your back head facing the mirror." You turn around going to do so as she forcefully brings you closer. Having your legs draping over her shoulders, your cunt infront of her face. Your head spins as she manhandles you like she always does. Your were nothing but forced to look at yourself now. "You'll look, and if I see you don't I stop. Clear?" "Mhmm. Clear." She just needed you to relax. You begin to look at yourself, still unsure.

When you suddenly feel her tongue flat on your pussy. Your eyes roll back as she starts off strong immediately. Her pace fast, looking directly at your face in the mirror. "Relax my girl." She could sense you were still unsure giving more softer instructions. "I promise it'll feel good." You breathe out slightly averting your eyes to look at yourself. Your head tilts a tad, finding her to be correct. The way your eyes were droopy, your lips plump and red. You truly looked good. Your hair cascaded over the edge of the bed beautifully.

Your arms slowly move to dangle over the edge of the bed too. Having them rest there elegantly. You understood this now, you really did. "Mm, fuck." You soon moan out, keeping an eye on yourself then moving them to watch Billie. "Feels so good." She smirks against you, fucking you with her tongue. Craving the taste of you like a wild animal craves its prey. She then feels you clenching around her tongue, sending her crazy. She speeds up just a bit more, eventually moaning beautifully into you, it was just slightly whiney and needy, desperate to taste you. She knows how much you love the way she moans so she teasingly does it again.

Then she growls. Feeling your thighs trap her, God she loved whenever you did that. You were close, she felt it right on her tongue. You grip the sheets near your head, bunching it in your hands as you feel it arriving quicker. "Billie!" You scream out as you're shooting your juices into her mouth. She ate it good. Making sure she got it all. Her head slowly moves from your shaking form. Looking at your fucked out expression in the mirror.

"I'm your babydoll." You then say tiredly.

"Fuck yeah."

[theemporium]

HEYYYY 😋 is it possible to request something angsty (hurt/comfort?) for the prompt "don't touch me" w max?? THANK YOUUU ALSO I REALLY LOVE UR WRITINGS THEY'RE REALLY GREAT

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

6. "Don't touch me."

.

“Don’t touch me.” 

“Baby—” 

“Please. I just—” He took a shaky breath, the heels of his palms pressing into his eyes like it would stop the tears already falling. “Just need a second.” 

“Okay,” you whispered, keeping your voice calm and understanding as you slowly slid down the wall, sitting down on the other side of the hallway across from him. “Take however long you need, Max. I’m gonna stay here.” 

He nodded, unable to find the words he wanted to say. 

It felt stupid. It felt so fucking stupid, even if he knew logically that the whole thing was far from stupid. He had every right to be sat on the floor of some random hotel corridor, back pressed against the wall as he cried his eyes out. But he didn’t feel vindicated or validated in his emotions. 

He just felt dumb.

He had been through the worst. He survived his father’s constant yelling and belittling, the physical and emotional and psychological hurt he inflicted on Max when he was just a fucking child. He had made it past that point, he was away from that, he was better.

And yet, all it took was one sponsorship event and one fucking off-hand comment from his father to some sponsor for everything to come crumbling down. 

Max hated feeling weak. 

He hated that his father still held some power over him, even now when he was twenty-six years old, a three time world champion and his own fucking person. 

He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” Max rasped eventually, finally having the courage to pull his hands away from his face. But he couldn’t look at you. Not just yet. “It just started and I couldn’t stop it.” 

“You don’t need to give any explanation,” you said, still speaking so softly that it made Max’s chest tighten. “You’re allowed to cry without explaining yourself.”

“I know, I just—” He swallowed harshly. “I don’t know, actually. I really don’t fucking know.” 

“That’s okay too,” you said, smiling softly when he finally lifted his head to look at you. “You don’t have to know right now. You’re allowed to just cry.”

“Okay,” he whispered, feeling his eyes well up again despite himself. “I…can you please…like…touch me?” 

Your smile made his heart ache as you shifted, sitting beside him now as you wrapped your arm around him and let him cry into your shoulder. “I’ve got you, always.”

.

[targaryenluvs]

— SOLIDIFY

pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader

summary: yourself and luke are navigating your new relationship. with the two of you being popular amongst the camp, eyes were on you always. some tended to wander to places reserved for the other.

warnings: creepy boy, protective luke & percy (yk the drill), arguments, fighting/violence, flirting, luke being a tease, cutesy patchups

a/n: this does kind of remind of a fic i already have so let’s just say i drew inspo 😋 also i’m a sucker of mean luke hehehe - kind of regretting making it into a series rather than one long fic

wordcount: 880 words

taglist: @songofthesuns @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv - finale out now!!

ii. solidify

you were luke’s, even if the guy infront of you didn’t know it. luke knew it, you knew it, and that’s all that mattered. luke definitely knew it, by the amount of times he’d kissed you all over, hands wandering—

besides the point.

but luke had composure, something he prided himself on. he was able to keep a pokerface when need be. and he really did need it. this boy was pushing his buttons, and seemingly trying to undo yours.

luke watched on for a bit, trying his hardest to keep up the smile on his face that everyone knew. thankfully, he didn’t need to step in this time. as annoying percy’s protectiveness over you waynhave been, it had its perks. such as percy being annoyed by the same things as luke.

“hey y/n, i’m feeling kind of tired. you mind walking me back to our cabin?” percy stood behind you as you turned his way, laughter from behind you caused a scowl to come over your face. “what’re you laughing at?” the boy crossed his arms, “the fact that this kid can’t walk alone.” percy’s fist was itching to connect with this guys face, but he knew you could handle it.

“this kid, is my brother. and if you have something else to say you sure as hell better be ready for someone to talk back.” you were eye to eye now, and you could see him practically shrink back into himself. “that’s what i thought.” the campers rung out in ‘oohs’ as you turned to guide percy away.

what you didnt anticipate was for him to fight back. “the hell do you think you’re doing?” his fingers clung onto your wrist, and that was more than enough for luke to punch him square in the jaw. but that wasn’t enough, with each leg over the boys waist he continued to raise his fist, over and over.

until eventually you managed to pry him off of the boy. but the damage was done, he was currently cradling his wrists and crying out, “he broke it!”

“you idiot. come on.” percy was in front of the two of you, deciding to say out of the way as you reprimanded him, “and again, i can handle myself just fine!”

“is it so wrong of me to want to protect you?” luke shouted as the two of you stopped in your tracks. “you’re my— best friend.” thankfully your back was facing percy, the smile on your face was wide. “i know, and i thank you for wanting to protect me. but i can fight my own battles luke. don’t do it again.” percy furrowed his eyebrows, “so can i.” you laughed, “no you can’t percy.”

once you’d settled percy in you walked luke to his empty cabin. luke’s smugness was irking you, “why are you so happy?” luke shrugged, “hurt him good, why wouldn’t it be happy?” you shoved him inside, your head was hurting from the whole encounter. “happy? you’re happy for hurting someone?” luke’s hands rested on either cheek, his eyes seemed darker than usual, “he hurt you, and i can’t let that happen.” you shook your head.

“seriously, what the hell was that?” you were so close to choking him, and not in a fun way. “what was what? me defending you? that guys hands were all over you, i broke them, he won’t be using them again. problem solved.” you walked him over to his bed before pushing him down. luke’s own hands were bruised, the moonlight seemed to dance over them, dried blood and shallow cuts. you inspected them with care, before grabbing a first aid kit.

“i’m not incompetent yknow? i can handle myself just fine. you undermined me out there, im a camp counsellor, i’m a leader. you made me look like i need saving!” he exhaled, whilst you wiped over his knuckles with wipes before walking away to throw the rubbish out. “i didn’t mean to, i just— i saw him. and his hands on you and i couldn’t just sit back.” you were situated between his legs, his hands came up to rest on your hips.

your hand tangled in his hair, thumb rubbing up and down as he rested his head against your stomach. “i know, i know. it’s sweet, that you want to protect me but you can’t treat me like a kid. i’m your—.” the silence between the two of you was comforting, never awkward.

“say it.” his voice was soft and sweet, almost desperate, he looked up at you and your own heart was threatening to leap out of your chest. just one look from luke was more than enough to send your head spiralling. “i’m your girlfriend, luke. and you’re my—.”

“boyfriend, your loving, loyal, extremely hot and amazing swordsmen of a boyfriend. and i’m pretty good in other areas too.” you hid your head in your hands, the heat in your cheeks was annoying you, “nah, i wanna see you.”

he managed to lift you up, despite your squeals of protest, and lay down with you on the bed, “i’ll protect you any day, anytime.” luke peppered your face with kisses as you begged him to stop, “never.”

you groaned, “god you’re cheesy luke!”

“only for you.”

[ham1lton]

THE PRINCESS DIARIES!

pairings: charles leclerc x reader.

faceclaim: jennie kim.

summary: it’s one thing finding out you’re the crown princess of a small country. it’s another thing to figure it all out while ignoring the totally hot monegasque ambassador.

author’s note: if you liked this let me know via ask or leave me a tip! <3

— loosely based off of this drabble.

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liked by bestie1, bestie2 and 73 others.

yourusername: au revoir paris <3 thank u to my university for sponsoring the trip. i definitely do feel a lot more cultured.

view all 20 comments

bestie1: where are all the clubbing pics? the hot guys?

-> yourusername: my MOTHER is on here.

-> theeartist: honey you know i support your coming of age endeavours. it’s natural for a girl your age!

bestie2: u look so cute babe!!

-> yourusername: thank u 😋 feel like a real frenchie in my beret 🥖

otherfriend: smart girl!! so proud!! 💗

-> yourusername: i love u 😻

classmate: yn miss u!! are u coming back after this?

-> yourusername: no :( i’m visiting my nan in genovia!

-> classmate: so jealous omg. bring me back a souvenir.

-> yourusername: ofc !!! 💕

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liked by vogue, newyorkermag and 3,737,893 others.

royalwatch: the genovian royals surprised us at their annual ball as they unveiled the crown prince’s daughter. arriving in a custom vera wang gown, she immediately found a kinship in the thai princess and introduced herself to all of the guests.

view all 1,727,838 comments

user1: where tf has she been?

-> user2: she’s apparently the prince’s daughter with a commoner but as he has been diagnosed with infertility they are scrambling to introduce her to the public to secure their lineage.

-> user1: even royal families can be messy omg.

user3: she’s so pretty!

-> user4: like oh my god! serving the public and serving face.

-> user5: genovians are just super pretty in general.

user6: she is so elegant. MY princess!!!

-> user7: tf u mean YOUR princess 😭 bro ur canadian.

user8: the dress is gorgeous omg.

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the ball is very boring, even with your new found friend.

she chatters on and fills the emptiness with noise but you can’t help but think about how this is your life now. you’re a royal. you’re a princess. no more meeting up with your friends, no more trips where you’re a nobody and definitely no more boyfriends. your grandmother had grilled you on your life when you first arrived, asking you about your grades, your love life and your aspirations.

“princess yn?” you hear someone ask in an unfamiliar accent. you look up to see an attractive man, slightly older than you, with wavy brown hair and a smile. “i’m glad i managed to meet you. it seemed like you were the talk of the evening.”

“did it?” you smile. that was a first. “i’m very sorry, i didn’t catch your name?”

“charles leclerc, i’m the monégasque ambassador to genovia.” he nods. “it’s a gorgeous ball. i never get old of them.”

“you’ve been here a lot?”

“i practically grew up here. my father was the previous ambassador, my grandfather before him and my great-grandfather before that. genovia is practically in my blood.”

“you know genovia more than i do.” you bite your lip as you look away. you’ll be ruling a kingdom you know nothing about. charles would probably do a better job than you would. “funny huh?”

“it’s a lovely country. i would like to show you around if your schedule permits.” charles smiles again. “if that isn’t too forward, your highness.”

“not at all.” you smile. “i’d love that.”

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liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 2,837,938 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: newest addition to the genovian royal family, princess yn, 23, was seen canoodling with the monaco ambassador to her country. charles leclerc, 26, spent half his time between his home country of monaco and the other half in genovia. apparently witnesses of the couple say they were ‘laughing like an old married couple’ and it seemed like they’d ‘been together for years’. they dined at a local restaurant before leaving in the royal motorcade. however, apparently it goes against the rules for an ambassador to date a princess.

what do you think about the newest royal scandal, ham1ltons?

view all 1,027,838 comments

user1: girl omg. you’ve been in that family for what??? a MONTH?? and ur already getting in scandals 😭

-> user2: it’s the commoner in her, disgusting 🤮

-> user3: bitch u a commoner too? tf?

user4: IDC!!!! she can date whoever she wants!

-> user5: rules are meant to be broken 😻

user6: making this some sort of forbidden love thing is really selling this for me. also i just googled charles and he is HOT!!!

-> user7: i can be his ambassador 🤤

user8: she’s acting like a whore. ew? this isn’t princess behavior.

-> user9: stfu mwah 💕

user10: it’ll be fine. genovia and monaco can work it out on the remix 💗

user11: has this ever happened before?

-> user12: i researched it but it doesn’t say. i think this seems to be the first of its kind.

user13: i love them together sorry.

user14: so will and harry can go clubbing and no one gaf but charlesyn go on a DATE and that is grounds for concern?

-> user15: like harry wore a nazi suit go focus on THAT instead of two people walking around the country they LIVE in.

-> user16: they could never make me hate u charlesyn 🫶🏼

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liked by ham1ltonshaderoom, messy1 and 1,837,939 others.

royalwatch: it’s been six months since the leak of the relationship between genovian princess yn yln and monaco-genovian ambassador charles leclerc. this is his first public engagement since the photos surfaced.

showing up at the le mans race for the award ceremony, he wore a dark suit and was accompanied by his team. onlookers said he was very sweet and gracious but didn’t comment on the incident.

view all 892,882 comments

user1: not him getting off scot free? where is yn?

user2: he looks soo good omg???

user3: have y’all heard the rumours he’s a social climber?

-> user4: okay and?? i’d do it for the cheque too!

-> user5: like if i got a chance to marry a hot sexy princess i’d do it too tf 😭

user6: why is everyone making this a big deal! like literally who gives a fuck.

user7: GOD TAKE ALL OF CHARLESYN’S SCRUTINY AND PUT IT ON THE BRITISH ROYAL FAMILY PLEASE 🙏🏻

user8: why would he make a comment on it? they did nothing wrong? can two young people not date?

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SIX MONTHS AFTERWARDS.

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liked by vogue, genoviaroyals and 4,072,321 others.

royalwatch: a new royal wedding for ambassador charles leclerc and princess yn yln? the genovian royal family’s representatives have released a statement confirming both the couple’s romance and their engagement. the royal couple are reportedly very excited for their future and hope you all support their relationship!

view all 1,883,939 comments

user1: charles never beating the social climber allegations 😭

-> user2: and he’ll be KING and u will all be losers 😹

-> user3: he actually won’t be king! when yn becomes queen, he will be given the title of prince consort. mostly because a king outranks a queen.

-> user2: user1 and he’ll be PRINCE CONSORT and u will all be losers 😹

user4: she’s sooo gorgeous my god!!!

user5: sexiest royal couple ever. they brought sexy back not that justin timberflop.

-> user6: this will ruin the tour.

-> user7: what tour?

-> user8: THE WORLD TOUR 😒😰

user9: AHHHHHHHHHH when they get married pinterest will be BOOMING.

-> user10: i can see the edits already.

-> user11: this is OUR princess diana and prince charles wedding.

user12: FUTURE QUEEN YN YLN and some guy.

user13: so obsessed with them actually.

user14: who cares about these boring losers. willkate gagged these flops.

-> user15: not u going on like this is some sort of kpop stan war??

-> user15: but ur WRONG. charlesyn outsold those fugly brits 😹 STAY MAD!!!!

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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo (charles specific tags will be added to a reblog!)

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[xazse]

Hello z! Just wanted to say your writing is so yummy and keeps me and the rest of your followers so full😋 BTW! More puppy girl hybrid?? (P.s this is my first request 🙂‍↕️❤️)

PT 2 OF MY MOST RECENT PUPPYGIRL!HYBRID FIC FOR THOSE WHO ASKED!!

PT1 HERE

Notes: IM SO HAPPY IM UR FIRST REQUESTEE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! And I’m super glad you enjoy my writing it really means a lot<33

Warnings: Hybrid!Gojo + fem!reader + PuppyHybrid!Reader + smut + small Drabble + not proofread + brat!reader + little bit of sub!Satoru + nipple!teasing + slight crying + overstimulation + mean!Suguru + exhibition

People who asked to be tagged: @qmsvpx @sugurubabe @shokosbunny @rinsluhvr @fuyuji-ii @mashtura @wisteriaflowersss @kickenkricken @rinsluhvr @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni I hope you guys enjoy!

WolfHybrid!Gojo who really can’t take all the teasing you’ve been putting him through. After the first incident Suguru made it 100 percent clear to you specifically that you are to not touch Satoru like that again, who knows what will happen if he’s not around. He’s not scared Satoru will hurt you but he should be eased into the world of pleasure not immediately made to cum on himself his first day in what is now his home.

Suguru scolds you bad, telling you how disappointed he is, how you know better! He knows how needy hybrids get especially your species but the toys he supplies for you should be more than enough. All you did in retaliation was make it a goal to ruin Satoru… poor thing why is he the victim in all of this? And yet he doesn’t even know.

You ignore Suguru’s rule when it’s just you and Satoru in the house.

You make an effort to rub yourself all over his body while wearing the thinnest layer of clothing, when he’s laying on the couch facing the ceiling you’ll come lifting his shirt up and licking all over his chest, even sucking on his nipples as extra stimulation. You love his reactions, everything makes him fully hard and his loud moans fill the empty living room. He can’t process what to do with this pleasure besides grabbing and fondling his cock until he’s finishing in his pants again.

It doesn’t take long for him to be hard all over again, and for you to repeat the process. If he asks if you can help him feel like that again you’ll force him to rub your ears for a good five minutes.

WolfHybrid!Gojo who gets to feel what it’s like being balls deep in your cunt, when you sink your nice ass to meet his pelvis, the poor wolf is fucking gone, he’s never felt something so tight around his cock, he’s never felt anything around his cock! Your plush walls squeeze him so good that he’s having a hard time forming sentences let alone words, all that’s slipping from his pretty slippery pink lips are moans, moans that emphasize how his balls are tightening and he’s cumming deep inside you.

You’re quick to start bouncing so cutely on him, your floppy ears bouncing along with you. Your toys don’t compare to Satoru’s thick cock, how has a woman never felt something like this? You can feel the twitching of his veins as he gets it up once again. You peek at his face to find the wolfman ruined, drool seeps from the corners of his lips and tears are decorating his lash lines.

When you finally cum, it’s a damn mess, the mixture of you two sit where you meet and seep out. The pleasure in the moment doesn’t have you thinking of what Suguru will do to you, doesn’t matter what he will do to the both of you, all you can think of is grinding down on Satoru’s cock for another orgasm.

Bonus!

Suguru is fucking furious, he was mad the first time but he let it slide since it simple curiosity on both sides. The simple curiosity has gone too far, you don’t fucking listen. Since the moment he had welcomed you into his home a few years back he’s had a hard time getting you to listen to directions.

He doesn’t hear you out when he drags you and Satoru to the bedroom, in fact he tells the both of you to keep going. You find yourselves shy under his eye and insist that you’ve both learned your lesson from his lecture earlier. He wasn’t really lecturing Satoru since he doesn’t know the rules as well as you do but this is a great learning moment.

He ignores you, ignores how you’re using the sweet eyes with him, he’s dead serious.

You’re quick to obey and incite a small kiss with Satoru, that turns into a full on make-out with Suguru watching intently.

The rest of the night is filled with moans and groans of complaints, Suguru had told Satoru to let any lewd feelings he had all on you, Satoru does not hold back at all, he fucks his thick cock into your sensitive walls over and over, the mess from earlier helps as to not hurt you so it’s so easy for him to slide back and forth. Satoru found himself ecstatic at the start but when he finds his cock overstimulated and his balls hurting from the painful pleasure he’s not feeling the same, but he for some reason won’t stop his hips from moving, he loves the feeling of having you cum around him nonstop, he loves Suguru watching him so intently, everything mixed together.

Your clit is so slippery that it’s hard to pinpoint where you should be rubbing, everytime you stop Suguru is quick to snap at you to keep going, this is what you wanted correct? He makes sure to ask that out loud, you’re so fucking adorable with the way you nod in his direction, he knows you have a few more in you.

[filled-with-fat]

How to have a RAPID💨 weight gain

You’ve always dreamed of getting fat, you’re obsessed with the idea of being overweight. But no matter how much you eat, the pounds never seem to stick. You’ve become trapped in this ‘skinny fat’ body — too fat to be considered a twink, but too skinny to actually be considered fat. So here’s what you’re gonna do:

1. Start eating earlier. When you’re trying to become obese, you need to change your eating habits to those of an obese dude. Fat guys don’t stick to the normal 3-meal-a-day routine, they’re constantly snacking and eating food. They’ve stretched their stomachs far beyond a healthy size for a human, which allows them to eat an excessive amount without feeling full. And you need to do the same. So, each morning set your alarm to 5am. You probably won’t have much of an appetite this early, regardless, it’s time to start eating. Make sure to chug at least 2 gainer shakes, before moving onto a palatable breakfast, perhaps with a large stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream? Good job, now you’ve had over 1,000 calories before the day has even begun.

2. At 9am, after you’ve slept on those calories, it’s time to fit in another breakfast. It’s important to cram as much in during this sitting! Maybe try another gainer shake, with a different flavour to *shake* things up (no pun intended). Then, move onto a full English, with extra helpings of bacon and eggs, alongside waffles topped with cream cheese and chocolate. Good boy, now it’s time to go and rest again. Remember to limit your movements so that you can maximise the calories you’ve just eaten.

3. Time for a mid-morning snack? You’re probably not even hungry yet considering you’ve already consumed over 3,000 calories in the past couple of hours, but to really start feeling those gains, it’s time to order a McDonalds straight to your door. Grab a BigMac, and a large side of fries, as well as two large cokes and a McFlurry for dessert. Your mid-morning snack should be larger than most people’s lunch. And when it comes, time how long it takes for you to get through it all. Remember, as you eat faster, you’re belly stretches, and eventually it will start getting easier and easier to fit a fuck ton of food inside of you.

4. Then you’re ready for lunch (hopefully you haven’t passed out yet). Invite a (fat) friend over, and order several large pizzas. Given how much you’ve already eaten, you’re probably going to struggle to eat a whole pizza, but with your fat friend by your side, who will doubtless be chomping up his slices, hopefully this should encourage you to do the same. Say goodbye to your friend, then head back to the couch. At this point in the day, you’re probably feeling so full that you never want to eat again, and you’re belly doubtless looks so bloated 🫃 it could pop at any moment. Take the afternoon to rest on the couch. And as soon as you start to feel a little lighter, reach for that chocolate bar you left on the coffee table.

5. Dinner time. It’s date night! Let your boyfriend take you to an all-you-can-eat Buffett, and don’t go shy! Make sure to wear a short sleeve tshirt, so that you can use the full length of your arms, to take as many plates of greasy food at a time. And when you start to feel bloated again, take a gut gummy to relieve your symptoms before piling into another stack of donuts 🍩 😋🤤

Repeat this routine daily, and hopefully you should start to feel a little heavier!

[min-imum]

hi welcome to tumblr !! 💋 so, what if yn hugging gyu from the back while he wash the dishes and she decided to be 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂..

part 2 (afab!reader)

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: this was NOT as good as the first draft WHICH TUMBLR DELETED 😡, gn!reader, oral sex (m receiving & implied f receiving at the end), kitchen sex??, also i got too lazy to edit everything into the tiny text bcs im on my phone so erm. um. sorry. let me know if u prefer that layout AND ALSO if any kind soul could help me out with this i’ll love you forever

thank you 😋😋😋 and i agree, that would be so hot. you know mingyu works hard to take care of you — you’re his baby, and he’ll work forever if it means you get to buy all the things you want and live comfortably.

you’d planned to wash the dishes after dinner — after all, mingyu had gotten home and started making dinner right away, still wearing his work clothes — but as soon as you had gotten up, mingyu led you back to your seat with a “let me do it, baby, you sit and relax, yeah?” that you couldn’t refuse.

so, now, you sit at the dining table and watch mingyu scrub at the dishes diligently. the sleeves of his white button-up are rolled to his elbows. he grips the sponge in his left hand and a plate in his right, scrubbing at what seems to be an annoying stain.

you make your way to the kitchen and hug mingyu from behind.

“hi, baby,” he greets fondly, pausing his scrubbing as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“hi,” you mumble. “you take such good care of me. i’m so lucky to have you.”

“yeah?” he replies, amused.

you lean on his wide, warm back, and your hands start exploring. they slide under his shirt, tracing his abs, then make their way up higher to squeeze his pecs. he shudders when you brush his nipple with a thumb, nearly dropping the plate he was washing.

“baby, what are you doing?”

“thanking you,” you murmur. “it’s my turn to take care of you now.”

you feel up his chest for the first button of his shirt, then the next, and soon his shirt is falling open. with your newfound freedom, you run your hands all over his torso again, pinching at his nipples and groping his pecs shamelessly. the muscles on his back contract against your cheek.

he squirms, clutching the sponge tightly enough for the bubbles to overflow onto his hand. your hand snakes down, lower, to palm at his cock through his slacks.

he hisses, hips jerking forward, trapping your hand between him and the counter. “shit, babe,” he grunts.

“turn around f’me, please, gyu?”

he drops the sponge and plate into the sink and dries his hand on a towel, and then he turns around. “hi,” he breathes.

“hey,” you reply, smiling. he leans down to kiss you, once, twice, and then you drop to your knees and start unzipping his slacks.

the view from below is magnificent — his white shirt, open and hanging on his shoulders, frames his shaking body, abs contracting and big chest heaving. his eyes are dark, full of want and desire. his precum stains his grey underwear and leaves a dark spot that’s gradually getting bigger.

you mouth wetly at the spot, then up the length of his shaft, making him whimper.

finally, you decide to stop teasing. you pull his underwear down and his cock springs up, slapping against his stomach. he hisses when you lick and kiss the tip, wrapping your hands around the base.

then his hands fly to grip the edge of counter, white-knuckled, when you swallow his cock down as far as you can go.

you slurp and lick as much as you can, bobbing messily on his big cock, and he grunts and moans, spurring you on.

“shit, fuck,” he curses. “you’re— you’re gonna make me come so fast.”

you look up at him with wet eyes as you choke yourself on his cock. one hand strokes the rest of his cock that you can’t fit in your mouth; the other hand fondles his balls.

you love the view. on your knees with his warm cock stretching your throat open, you look up to see your muscled boyfriend covered in a thin sheen of sweat, mouth open as he pants, chest heaving almost painfully. his bangs fall into his eyes, which he struggles to keep open. his hold on the counter is unforgiving, like he’s worried his knees will give out, and it makes his biceps bulge in the sleeves of his shirt.

“i’m gonna cum,” he warns through gritted teeth.

you move your hands to grab his thick thighs, then force yourself to take him in deeper. you don’t manage to shove his entire cock into your throat — he’s just too big — but it only takes a few more thrusts for him to cum down your throat with a groan.

you swallow all of it, then open your mouth to show him.

“fuck, baby,” he curses. “you’re so filthy.”

he helps you onto your feet again, then sweeps you up in a passionate kiss. then, he lifts you onto the counter, helps you lean back, and spreads your thighs with a hand on each knee.

“your turn, baby.”

[sanjisblackasswife]

Gojo Hearing “I Love You” for the First Time

I gen. have no clue if anywhere in the series anybody has said they loved gojo. Whether platonic or not. Its interesting and I was just thinking.

CW: Mentions of Gojo’s Past(some canon some not…so spoilers ig if you haven’t read the inventory arc), Established Relationship, Mentioned Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Some Angst(?), Soft Gojo, Reader speaks Spanish because I’m projecting 😋, Kisses

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

“AND THAT’S WHY I DO NOT LIKE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!..IT WAS VOMIT EVERYWHERE!”

“Can’t believe you managed to eat 6 boxes of cookies in one sitting.”

“Hey! Don’t judge it was a marathon of Digimon playing all day…good times. Not as good as the time—“

And there he goes again, your big over 6’6” boyfriend laying on his back on the couch having another yap fest after a long trip. It started off with a quiet evening of you both eating and watching a childhood movie to then actually sharing stories of your past.

You really couldn’t be more enamored by how excited Satoru gets when he speaks to you. His smile is wide from ear to ear and his dimples grow deeper. He’s also so expressive with his hand gestures you really don’t know where to look as you lay comfortable on his big broad chest.

Usually when he begins to speak about his life before you, you try to absorb and savor every moment. Since your friendship in high school Gojo wasn’t much of a talker (ironically) about his life, but as you both grown closer since his big mission with Geto to watch over Riko he managed to get a bit more comfortable with telling you more about himself.

It’s been 11 years since then and after some therapy sessions with you, Geto, and Gojo three of you managed to learn how to express yourselves in a healthier way with each other.

You watch now, almost 1 year into your official relationship with him and noticed he doesn’t talk much about his parents. Nor an adult in his life that was like a parent to him at the very least. Even when in High School you never met his family. You knew of his clan and that was all.

You always wondered where did he get his wild energy from? His dad? Where did he become so affectionate through touch? His mom? It was all a mystery you wanted to understand.

You’ve even asked Geto, his closest best friend what does he know about his mom and dad, but he always ends with “It’s better you wait until he tells you himself.”

You didn’t question it more, you respected the decision so thats exactly why you’re here. Watching and listening attentively to what your boyfriend has to say. It makes you happy seeing how much he has grown more comfortable towards you towards the years.

“And when I was 8 I remember my folks always gave me free range to use my technique whenever to practice, but boy they regretted after an hour because I—-baby.”

Without noticing your eyes blinked back at him as if you began to come back to reality again, Gojo seen the relaxed look you given him as he spoke, how your eyes were on his, but he just knew you—

“‘ not even listeninggguhhhh.”

Putting your thumbs on his pouty bottom lip, they’re so soft you smile at him, it wasn’t really something you’d expect to say to him, but his pretty big smile, his deepened dimples, everything about him caught you in a moment of venerability you just decided to softly speak at him;

“I love you.”

…just like that it was a pause.

It just slipped off the tongue. You meant it, but finally saying it out loud was a bit of a shock to not just you, but more Satoru. He had an unreadable look on his face, almost as if he didn’t catch what you said, but he definitely did. He couldn’t miss the way his body tensed up hearing those three words.

“What?”

Gojo didn’t say anything, almost as if it was a staring contest you rise from his chest to straddle him, “Are you okay?”

You jumped feeling the pads of his thumb dig into the fattiness of your hips, almost as if he were trying to massage you….very painfully. He got up though, placing you down on the couch and walking to the nearest bathroom without saying a word or looking at you. You could’ve sworn he wiped his face momentarily.

“Go—?”

He didn’t mean to, it was almost a reflex. Your words though, kept replaying in his head . He felt a bit silly being so dramatic , ironically but he couldn’t properly process what you said.

“Satoru?” You knock on the door breaking him away from his thoughts, “You okay, papa? I—oh.”

He opened the door, putting back on his eye mask and giving you one of the fakest smiles you ever seen him do.

“What are you doing, you okay?”

“yeah yeah I’m fineeeee. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“W-wait!” You playfully scoff at his eagerness as he pulls you to the front door, “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable….I know it was sudden and random, but I meant it.”

Gojo turns and exhales, clearing his throat he begins to scratch the back of his head, you can tell he is scrambling for words so you continue; “I do love you Satoru. A lot. I think I always have since we were younger, but I don’t know…today made me realize I should verbalize it.”

He wants to speak, but for one of the first times you left him wanting to just listen to you. Honestly you took advantage of it because who knows when you’ll be able to get him this quiet.

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I love the way you explain things, I love the way you are, I love the way you care, I love how you can get on my nerves.” You ends the last part with a giggle making him finally chuckle with you, and he brings you closer to his chest. “I love you, Satoru. You are an amazing person and I am very blessed to have you as not only a friend but a partner.”

It was all too much, he felt overwhelmed he had to lift his mask to wipe the tears welling on the side of his eyes, he chuckles again, the free hand on your waist tightening, “Well damn if I didn’t know better I’d think you have a crush on me.”

You laugh, “Maybeeee…..Now. “ You smooch his cheek before grabbing your phone, “Let’s go get some food—-“

You tried walking past him towards the door but he grabs you from behind to hug you close, you can hear his shallow breaths in your ear. You’re used to his tight squeezes from behind but this one was firm. Almost as if he let you go you’ll fly away.

“Say it again.”

You smirk, his voice quivering but trying to be masked by a fake pouting tone, “I love you, Satoru.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again, but in Spanish.”

“Oh brother.”

“C’mon you sound hot when speaking Spanish.”

“Te amaré para siempre, Satoru…”

If words could explain how he felt right now with you, the closest would be a weight being lifted off his shoulders. For a moment he no longer was Gojo the strongest sorcerer, he was Satoru.

Just Satoru.

Something he wanted to be for a long time, and now you are helping him take the first step into that.

You inhale his scent; mint, expensive cologne and his natural musky smell you love so much and rub his head as he is still buried in your neck. You turn to face him and grab his cheeks, almost hesitantly to cup them because you weren’t sure if he’d left you see him cry. Though you felt your shoulder dampen.

However he let you, his big blue eyes surrounded by a tint of pink, he tried laughing it off and he actually broke eyes contact with you, “I …um…heh..fuck—“

You knew what he was trying to say but you don’t force him, instead you place your lips on his, you felt him exhale, his body relaxing in your touch, “I know, Satoru. I know.”

Gojo couldn’t properly register why he was so overwhelmed with whatever he is feeling right now but he wouldn’t trade this feeling in the world. He honestly wanted to replay the moment you said you loved him on repeat all day.

Later that day you both go out and have your own last minute date for the evening, he wanted so badly to tell you he loves you back by trying to incorporate more of the word “love “ in his vocabulary, by saying things like “I know you LOVE this.” Or “Wouldnt you LOVE for me to take you here.” but it was hard and he sounded silly.

Satoru wanted so badly to tell you he doesn’t just love you, but he has fallen IN love with you.

Gojo finally found just one more person that gave him something he didn’t realize he needed;

To feel human.

[emilys-bangs]

congrats on 200! for the celebration prompts number 12 and 19 pls 😋 with emily giving r her jacket <3

Thank you! I changed the dialogue a tiny bit to make it smoother, hope you like it <3

Part of the 200 celebration

Word count: 0.9k

When you and Emily were tasked with grabbing food for the team back at the precinct, you hadn’t thought to take a jacket. It’s a ten minute walking distance at most to the one diner in town, so at your insistence you’d left the car behind—you thought walking for a while in the crisp air would help clear your mind of the case a bit, but you’re so frozen you suddenly regret your decision. The roads are slick with rain, the temperature dropping significantly after a continuous drizzle that you’d been protected from inside the precinct.

Emily’s shoulder bumps into yours. “What way should we go again?” She asks as you approach a crossing.

“Right,” you shudder, your voice briefly shaking. It’s not that cold, you try to reason to your brain. You slip your cold hands into the pockets of your pants. Useless. “Two rights and a left, then straight.”

Emily hums. When you turn to look at her, you find she’s illuminated by the lights of streetside lamps, her outline gently gilded with gold. Warmth licks at your insides and you turn away, curling your cold fingertips inside your pockets. It’s fall, you think grumpily, taking your hands out and crossing them tightly over your chest. It shouldn’t be this cold already; the thin long-sleeve you’re in hardly does much.

“Here,” Emily says suddenly, “take my jacket.”

You turn, surprised to see her shrugging off her blazer. Right under the lamps now, a sea of gold spills over her ink black hair.

Oh, Jesus. 

“Why?” You ask stupidly. Crossing your arms tighter against your chest, you feel your heart jump against your ribs.

Emily rolls her eyes. “Because it’s cold. And you’re shivering.” She holds out the blazer. “Take it.”

“Won’t you be cold, though?” Your eyes cling to the shirt she’s wearing; a v-neck, black and woolen, hugging her body in a way you only dream of doing. A pale triangle of her skin is exposed, and you silently fuss about the cold nipping at it.

“Don’t worry about it.” Emily says. When you hesitate, she swings the jacket over your shoulders with a small smile. “You need it more,” she murmurs, her warm breath hitting the shell of your ear, “I saw the way you were shivering.”

The scent of her perfume hits, doubled from the jacket around your shoulders, which also smells like her. Heat suddenly slicks your palms, and your pulse beats in your throat.

Emily gives you a smile, small and teasing. “Hotch wouldn’t like it if I went back with a frost-bitten agent and no food.”

The mention of your boss breaks you out of your daze. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, slipping your arms properly through the sleeves. Warmth encompasses you, along with another gentle cloud of Emily’s perfume. God, she smells good. “So this is all just an attempt to save your own skin, Prentiss?”

“Maybe.” She bumps your shoulder again, this time to get you walking. You obey, the fleeting thought that you’d follow her anywhere surfacing suddenly in your mind.

The two of you go quiet again as you round the left corner. The diner comes into view, a warm haven nestled between various other shops. You flex your cold fingers, silently wondering if you’d be stepping over some unknown boundary if you slipped your hands into Emily’s pockets.

“Can I hold your hand?”

Her voice, while sudden, is soft.

You’re momentarily struck dumb. Which causes you to say, “Why?”

Emily chews on her lip, and you instantly want to slap yourself. She recovers quickly, but a hesitant look lingers in her dark eyes. “Y’know,” she shrugs, “it’s cold out. Figured you might want to warm them up.”

It’s a lousy excuse, because when you quickly grab her hand before she can sink into her head, linking your fingers through hers, you find that her skin is ice cold.

Which only makes you grin. “Oh yeah, much warmth you’re providing me with.” You tease, fireworks sparking under your ribs when her cheeks bloom red. You want to kiss her so much it hurts, but a nagging voice in your head says not now.

“How about,” you say quietly, “we make a trade?” Emily’s eyes widen with interest and she shuffles a tiny bit closer. A smile begs to spread over your mouth, but you try to hold firm. “I keep wearing your jacket to keep me warm, and in return I hold your hand to keep you warm?”

It’s so palpable, what the two of you want, but it’ll have to wait just a little bit.

Emily smiles softly, her cold fingers squeezing around yours. “I’d like that.”

A passing car breaks you both out of your small bubble of warmth. Emily starts walking, her hand pulling yours to the diner. It’s warm in there, almost stiflingly so, but still none of you let go.

“Just so you know,” she says after you’ve ordered, leaning against the counter, “my hands are always cold.” Her brown eyes peer at you through thick lashes, and you have to force yourself to breathe.

“Then I’ll always hold them.” You reply.

Emily smiles and turns away, but not before you catch the blush spreading over her cheek. Her fingers squeeze yours and you squeeze back, a silent game until the food is ready for you to take to the team.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism