#he just keeps following her around like a puppy

[thecloudsaremyhome]

Concept idea!

Okay I’ve had this idea for a while now so let me know if you want me to turn it into a oneshot or series!

Thinking about a lizard hybrid reader with a Yandere neglectful batfam. The story goes like this uour mother also a lizard hybrid has a one night stand with Bruce Wayne through pure luck.

But your mother didn’t view it as that she thought she finally found a mate only for him to leave the morning after of course this leaves her heartbroken and torn and then to find out she’s pregnant is even more of a shock.

She’s more worried than anything you see humans don’t know that hybrids or what they called beastshifters exist in this world and your mother has intended to keep it that way, she’s hid herself from society her whole life and she intends to do that with you to.

Until her sudden death and your left in the care of your father. To say you’re depressed is the least part. You have no one to help you through the challenging time of developing into your true form. It’s an excursating process every lizard has to go through, you wish your mother was here to help but she’s gone.

And it’s not like you can ask Alfred for help with this. Sometimes you go days at a time in your more animal form. Without anyone noticing. It’s like a form of regression you guess.

Every time a lizard or a hybrid feels unsafe they regress into their more animal form. And this seems to happen a lot to you which leads to your development slowing down. Not that anyone woild notice though. But you’ve gotten good at hiding your so called sercret.

No one even bothers with you so it’s easy honestly.

Until one day when you got into a bad fight with Damian tou accediently shifted into your more lizard form and in a state of shock scurried off to hide somewhere.

To say Damian was shocked was an understatement. So this leads to him looking for you and finishing you hiding under your bed crying.

It doesn’t exactly pull at his heart strings but it does make him feel a sense of guilt and curiosity. So reluctantly he comforts you to the best of his ability but of course he expected something in return and that’s answers.

So you reluctantly explained to him about you being a hybrid. And to say he was fascinated was an understatement.

After that day he follows you around like a lost puppy even when you regress he’s there. And it’s creepy to say the least.

Then the others started to notice especially Bruce, and this worried you. Will they find out?

Will they then reducible you and label you a monster? Will they kick you out on the streets?

Maybe the streets woild be better than this but still! You didn’t want to feel this constant pain this constant hurt. You can’t deal with it anymore.

And now the attention? It was to much so when you were required to eat dinner with the family you almost pissed ypur pants right then and their. You just had to keep it together.

No matter what. But sadly you failed and shifted into your lizard form when Bruce tried to speak with you. This leaded you to curling into your clothes.

This is it.

But then you felt your felt you clothes being picked up and dick takes you out of them and coos at your small form with an adoring look in his eyes. This makes you yelp and curl in on yourself even more. Not wanting to face this family. But that only leaves him tk cradle you whispering speak nothings.

What the hell is happening?!

[artstennisracket]

I Don’t Matter? wanted to give my take on what happened when Patrick found out that Art was going to Stanford. thank you @diyasgarden for your help with this :)

MRTA!Art x MRTA!Patrick

cw: sfw, angst

Junior Year

They had talked about it once. In passing. A very short conversation. It wasn’t meant to be short but that’s just how it ended.

Art was sitting at his desk scrolling through his college applications. He had finished all of them except one, Stanford. He always knew he wanted to go to college. Getting an education was never something he second guessed and to be honest tennis was never something he wanted to do forever. The more games he played the more he realized it didn’t feel the same, he didn’t feel the same.

His passion for it was dying.

It was fun as kid. No pressure. Just about having fun, doesn’t matter if you win or lose. But that’s not how it was at the academy.

Everyone was competing against each other. Him and Patrick included. But it was different with Patrick, it was fun.

Whether they were playing doubles or singles against each other Art always had fun, being good at it was just a side effect.

But they can’t play together forever, it’s not feasible. The US tennis circuit boasts over 300 players, Art would have to play them too if they kept it up. Strangers on the other side of the court who just don’t get him, not like Patrick did anyway.

He didn’t want to be stuck dwelling on his childhood forever. He wanted to see what tennis was like when he’s not always in constant competition with his best friend. But he also wanted to develop an actual career in college, maybe study economics in case this tennis thing didn’t work out. Art was never all-in for tennis.

Patrick got home late. It’s been like that for the past week since he was always seeing Lisa? Liza? Whatever her name was.

He caught a glimpse of Art’s laptop screen with big letters at the top “Collegeboard”.

“You’re not seriously going to play college tennis are you? I thought we were going pro,” Patrick says definitively. No joking manner behind his tone. He’s kidding right?

“And when exactly did you come up with that plan? Don’t think I was there for that conversation,” Art huffs out, keeping his eyes glued to the computer screen.

Art isn’t surprised. Never is when it comes to Patrick. Patrick’s assumption that Art would continue to follow him around like some lost puppy even at the detriment of his own self. Maybe in Patrick’s eyes Art really is that pathetic. Needing his guidance even as they grow into their adult selves.

Patrick scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion, “That was always the plan. Fire and Ice duh. Why wouldn’t we go pro? To spend our prime stuck up in some stuffy college. Stuck playing in NCAA?”

Art lets a half laugh, “You know they offer classes in college right? Don’t want my only skill in life to be hitting a ball with a racket. You can always come with me. College tennis teams tend to consist of more than one person.”

Patrick wouldn’t hear that though. He can’t really hear anything over the sound of his massive ego. As far as he was concerned the MRTA boys team only consisted of one person for singles and that was him. Sure Art was great, but Patrick was better. Art really only coming into play when it was for doubles. And even then Patrick’s erratic style and domination on the court made it feel like sometimes Art wasn’t even there.

He laughs. Patrick laughs and just hopes he wakes up from this fucked up nightmare where the two of you go separate ways in the future. “Sure man, whatever you say.”

Art could tell there was more. So much left unsaid between the two. But he decided to push. Not right now.

Senior Year

Okay so maybe they actually talked about this twice. Once junior year and once senior year. Not a shocker it would come up in conversation again.

Art had officially accepted his offer to Stanford. He was so ecstatic that hitting a ball with a racket got him into one of the best schools in the country. He was being scouted by a few different schools, received multiple offers, but Stanford beat them out by a long shot.

His coach was there when the scout extended the unofficial offer on Friday. He wanted to tell Patrick about it, but he never came home that night. He had been spending a lot more time with Sara? Sadie? lately, almost as if he was trying to push Art away.

So Art didn’t expect Patrick to show up at 8am practice at all. Let alone on time.

“Okay before we start just wanna give a shoutout to Donaldson for accepting his offer from Stanford, let’s clap it up for him,” Their coach says before clapping.

The rest of the team is whooping and hollering. Clapping like crazy, some even clapping Art on the back. Really hyping him up. Everyone except Patrick.

Art can see Patrick. He’s unmoving. Stuck in his place like a statue. His face is neutral but Art can see the hurt behind his eyes. Patrick brings his hands up to start clapping, not wanting to be singled out. And no one else notices, because they never do. Patrick is a master at masking his feelings to the world, except to Art .

Art tries to find Patrick after practice once he’s finished showering in the locker room, but he’s already gone.

He heads back to their dorm hoping to find Patrick there so they can talk about this. He was hoping to be the one that broke the news first but it’s too late for that.

He finds Patrick on his bed. Their beds no longer pushed together which he’s assuming is because Patrick is upset. He’s smoking a cigarette even though he’s not next to a window.

“C’mon man we’re gonna get in trouble if you smoke in here like that,” Art sighs, dropping his stuff on the floor.

Patrick shrugs haphazardly gesturing to the smoke alarm which is covered with a shower cap.

Art walks to stand in front of Patrick’s bed, “Can we at least talk about it?”

“You can fuck right off for all I care. I’ve smoked in here like this before with no issues,” Patrick spits back.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Art says gripping the bed post. He knew this conversation wouldn’t be easy but he’s just hoping they’d both make it out alive.

Patrick sighs, “Oh you mean the part where you decided it’s fuck me and my feelings right?”

“Patrick that’s not—“

“There are a million things I anticipated when coming to this school but finding my best friend wasn’t one of them you know?”

“I know Patrick I—“

“Like for the first time in my life there was someone who actually gave a fuck and didn’t just think I was just this piece of shit person who fucks around playing tennis. Someone who never thought I was too much.”

Art has always been an emotional person but especially when it came to people he cared about. Patrick being second on that list at the moment (second only to Art’s grandma). He could feel his eyes starting to water just thinking about the things Patrick is saying. Art never knew he perceived himself that way.

Patrick has always been confident and outgoing, the loudest in the room. It balanced Art’s wallflower persona perfectly. He never once stopped to think that maybe Patrick’s ego was just for show.

His voice cracks when he tries to say, “Patrick I’m—“

“No I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry. Because you’re not. If you were sorry you never would’ve accepted that offer. Would’ve went pro.” The “with me” part goes unsaid but Art knows. Of course he knows.

“I can’t keep hitting a ball with a racket forever, we have to grow up Patrick,” Art says wiping the unspilled tears from his eyes. Hoping he also wouldn’t be such a crybaby when he grew up.

“Says who?” He retorts taking another drag of his cigarette, “Stop treating me like I’m some fucking child. At least have the balls to tell me the truth. It was never about that. You never loved tennis.” Patrick has seen Art play tennis against other people and sure he’d win, but it wasn’t the same as when they played together.

Art doesn’t dispute that because Patrick is right. He never loved tennis and he never would.

You never loved tennis, you loved me so why are you leaving me is what Patrick should’ve said.

And why am I not enough to make you stay is what Patrick was really thinking to himself.

tagging: @tacobacoyeet @newrochellechallenger2019 @antxnxlla mel actually make a tagging list and use it challenge extreme difficulty

[lilghostiequinni]

Pup Pastry

Main Masterlist Oscar Masterlist

Pairing: Veternarian!female reader x Oscar Piastri

Warnings: Fluffy, None

Summary: Oscar was more like a cat than a dog, but you were a dog person, as evidenced by your two goldens, and you had invested a lot of time in learning how to properly care for them and the diet they needed, also didn't help that you were a vet and took care of animals for a living.

Requested: NO / yes

Oscar hadn't meant to be at a dog park in London, it was a complete accident that he was there.

He had made a few friends in the UK, and one of them wanted to meet at the dog park because he had just gotten a puppy from a clinic.

When he arrived, he played with his friend's dog for a few minutes before a different friend started running in the opposite direction, prompting the dog to start chasing him when he did.

Oscar was just watching his friends, then he was on the ground, and this beautiful woman was rushing over and helping him, rambling about how she was a vet, an animal doctor, not a people doctor.

She just kept saying she was sorry as she helped him up from the ground, the dogs that ran him over sitting next to her just wagging their tails as they did.

This was how it all started.

One meeting at the dog park led Oscar to look for her, going to the same park every day, just hoping to see her.

It didn't take long for him to look like a stalker to her because he was going to a dog park even when he didn't have a dog.

Soon, he invited her to come around, on a date because from the moment he met her, there was something different about her.

Once he got to know her, he couldn't think of any other woman to be with other than her.

She loved her dogs, learned to properly take care of them, and has been for years, making many of the treats she gives them, mainly because she loves cooking and baking.

There isn't a single thing she couldn't do if she set her mind to it.

Oscar loved her for it.

He loved the way she thought and the way her mind and brain worked.

He just loved her.

She became the center of his world, his universe.

He couldn't have thanked her dogs enough.

A/N: Second in the 400 Follower Driver poll.

Tags: @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @ellen3101 @barcelonaloverf1life @charli123456789 @amz824 @taetae-armyyyyy @diaryofarandomkid @hadids-world

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry III

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader Summary: Your past is catching up with you, Aleksander regains his full powers, and everyone around you says you're losing your mind. Too bad that they didn't notice that you went mad agea ago. Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 4 ~•♤♤♤•~

"How did you do that?" Ulla asks you as you both hunt for food in the forest. You move slowly through the trees, keeping an eye out for any movement in the bushes in the distance or the audible sound of a deer or a wild boar.

"What?" You ask, stopping. You close your eyes and focus on the sounds around you. You place your hand on the tree trunk next to you and focus on its energy, the tips of its leaves fluttering in the wind and the veins in its roots. You open your eyes when you locate a deer nearby and nod to the black-haired one to follow you.

"Dragging Aleksander here with us. Mother was convinced that we would go alone with Alina and her retinue. And yet he actually ordered them to take him with us on this journey."

You shrug at her words and prepare your bow when you manage to spot deer tracks in the snow. You slowly follow the trail, telling Ulla to be quiet. A few seconds later, a whistle pierces the forest as you hit your target with an arrow.

"I'm not inside his mind. I have no idea what made him decide to come with us." You sigh, feeling the woman's gaze on you. She throws the small game you'd hunted earlier over her shoulder and helps you carry the deer to your camp.

"That's the kind of crap you're telling my mother. I know perfectly well that he changed his mind because of you. You avoid being around him like the plague when he doesn't have a gag, and he keeps looking at you like a desperate, furious, kicked puppy. Just blurt it out and say what you did."

You want to roll your eyes at her, but you keep any hint of your irritation to yourself. Your hand instinctively goes to your bare neck—the place where the glass heart pendant once rested. And Aleksander's blood. You don't know what he did with it, and honestly you don't want to know.

Lately you've been overcome by... a feeling of emptiness. Numbness. Not of your limbs because the magical properties of the heart necklace have left, but... of your soul. You've had it a few times before, usually during the winter-spring equinoxes. Ordinary people had the biggest endorphin surge then. You, on the other hand... let's just say you found your way better in the darkness and shadows of the longer nights... not because of one Shadow Summoner.

"He annoys me. I don't need to be around him anymore, so I don't. Besides, I'm almost certain that he's planning my painful, long, torturous death this way. At the hands of the volcra or his nichevo'ya—I'm not sure yet." You shrug and fall silent as you approach the camp.

You frown when you see that the fire is almost extinguished, and there is not a single living soul around it. Strange. Very.

"You two are like two stubborn donkeys. When will you realize that you really…"

"Stay behind." You tell Ulla and release the deer. She gasps from the sudden burden but makes no further sound at the sight of you acting strangely.

You approach the fire and use your boot to sweep away the ash that was left there from the burnt branches. You wrinkle your nose and uncertainly reach for a log to throw it into the fire. You crouch over the barely burning hearth and blow, throwing in a handful of dried herbs from your hip bag, causing the fire to suddenly ignite with a living flame. And in the process, you remove another witch's spell.

You gasp as you are suddenly pinned to the ground, a hooded figure looming over you, now holding a dagger to your neck. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Baghra, Alina, her loyal friends tied up next to the Aleksander, right where you left him.

You snarl as the witch presses the dagger to your neck, drawing your attention back to her.

"Jelena. We haven't seen each other for a long time. How long has it been? An age? Two?"

"What betrayed me?" She asks dryly, completely ignoring your attempts at decent conversation. Rude. You mentally prepare yourself for a fight with her.

"The seal under the ashes. If you can't cast a spell without drawing your weird markings, just don't do it." You mock her as she presses the dagger to your skin

You hiss in pain, crimson-black blood running down the column of your throat, drawing the younger witch's attention. Jelena bulges at you, her hand on the dagger trembling as she surveys her handiwork.

"You are vulnerable. It can't be real…" She mutters to herself in shock, scanning your blood as if it were a living stream of water in the desert.

"Not so vulnerable." You gasp and use your magic to throw her off of you. You sigh, pressing a hand to your neck and feeling the sticky blood on your fingers. "I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. So if I were you, I wouldn't taste me. What do you want?"

"Kill you. Just like practically all of the witches from Ravka and Fjerda."

You snort at her obvious statement, watching in relief as she tucks the dagger into her boot. It's nice that for old times' sake she decided not to slaughter you with such a primitive tool. Ulla's searing gaze reminds you that you need to be quick with her if you don't want the young Morozova to enter this interaction uninvited.

"Oh please. I'm not that popular." You joke, earning a slight twitch at the corners of her mouth. You sigh, sitting down by the fire and nodding for her to do the same, ignoring the stares of your forced companions. Especially the one with exceptionally dark irises. "I thought you had finished your hunt for me a long time ago?"

"It's nothing personal. The Great Witch has a bounty on your head. And I need the money they offer for your head. I happened to be passing by and heard your name. I decided to try my luck."

"And they say it's a bad thing to gossip." You mock your bonded companions. "Since when does Reyana want me dead?"

"The leadership in the coven has changed since you were gone. Reyana is dead. Luke has taken command."

"That son of a whore..."

"Believe me, I hate him more than you. But I need this reward, Y/N." She says, sending you a serious, meaningful look. You sigh, knowing exactly what you need in exchange for her 'loyalty' to you.

You stand up and go to Nikolai's bag, rummaging through his things, pulling out a pouch of gold and playing with King Ravka's coins, looking from under your lashes at your old companion.

"How much does he value my head then?"

"5 thousand gold bars for your heart. And thousand for your head."

You scoff at the absurdity of the amount. You fiddle with the purse a little, casting a spell of limitlessness on it. You sigh, closing your eyes as you use up a significant portion of your powers on such a… trivial thing. You knew perfectly well that Jelena didn't have the strength or resources to acquire such a spell. None of the lesser witches did. But you were no ordinary witch…

"Nice. Maybe I could give them to him myself; it would be more rewarding than watching over those spoilt children." You mumble, sitting down by the fire and throwing the purse at her.

She raises her eyebrows, turning it over, trying to spill all its contents. When she sees that the coins are not running out, she raises her eyebrows, gives you a wicked, wolfish grin, and puts it in her bag.

"Since when have you been dealing with kings and queens?" She asks curiously, nodding at the people she has trapped.

"Since when circumstances force me." You mumble and dig into the pocket of your coat. You lean in and hand her a roll of paper, text starting to appear on it. “Here. An illusion spell. Strong enough to trick Luke into thinking you gave him my head and not some farmer or criminal’s.”

"He'll kill me if he finds out I've deceived him. Why would I help you and make him believe you're dead?"

"Who said you knew it wasn't me? Sell him a story; you can lie, right? You'll have your money, and I'll have peace... for a while. We both know I'm stronger than you. You would never win anyway. So take advantage of my generous and good heart and leave. Or I will make sure you won't be able to."

"Smart. And cunning. But watch yourself. There are many besides me who will try. And when no one succeeds… Luke himself will come for you." She warns you and stands up, dusting the dirt off herself.

"Oh I know. And I can't wait." You promise her, the dark, cold tone of your voice sending shivers down the young witch's spine.

"By the way, your boyfriend is cute. I understand now why you killed half of our coven for him." She adds with a wicked smile, nodding her head in Aleksander's direction. "If he didn't stink of you so much… I might still be tempted." She says, licking her lips.

"He is centuries older than you." You growl at her, fighting the blush that wants to bloom on your cheeks at her words.

"Has that ever stopped us?" She asks cheekily, waving at you before disappearing into the fire she started. You giggle, finally letting yourself lose control.

You take deep breaths and press your hands to the ground as a trail of blood begins to run down your nose. Damn necklace. The lack of it has weakened you more than you thought it would.

“What the fuck was that?” Ulla asks, being at your side sooner than you’d like.

You take a few ragged breaths, feeling her gently brush your hair away from your face and soothingly rub your back as shivers run through your body. You were too old for this shit.

"The past. And too much use of magic. Don't worry, lapushka. It'll pass… in a few hours." You assure her and place a hand on her shoulder, standing on wobbly legs. "Take care of these idiots. I need to take a nap for a while." You say and trudge to your tent.

Aleksander's glance is duly ignored by you.

“Will you stay for dinner?” Aleksander asks you, trying to control little Ulla who was running around the room, already setting the table for three.

“Will you stay forever?” His little sister asks you, completely ignoring her brother. You laugh, amazed at how happily she welcomed you just hours after you first met.

You kneel down to be at her height and send a few dust butterflies her way, cleaning the table that has been unused for a long time.

"I will stay as long as you want me to." You declare solemnly, to which Ulla throws herself into your arms with joy, chattering about how she will finally have someone suitable to play with dolls, because Aleksander, with his too low voice, is not suitable for pretending to be a princess.

You smile, stroking her dark hair. You lift your head to take a glimpse at your lover, but instead of seeing that beautiful, tender look he gave you whenever you and Ulla had one of these interactions, he looks at you with a blank, distant gaze. And from the shadows gently swirling in the corner of the room and his clenched fists, you can tell that nothing pleasant is on his mind.

"Ulla, go get some bread from the kitchen. Y/N, she must be starving after this exhausting day." The girl nods on command and runs excitedly for food. You know perfectly well that her obedience will not last long. She will disappear the moment her excitement dies down. "Don't promise her such a thing."

"Why? Are you bored of me already?"

"Because we both know perfectly well that sooner or later you'll leave us." You open your mouth to start arguing with him, but he continues, not giving you the opportunity. "You... won't be living as long as we will."

"Aleksander..." You mumble and try to put a hand on his shoulder, but he pulls away from you before you can.

He grips the back of the wooden chair, barely sparing you a glance, and your heart aches to see him going back down the old paths of isolation Baghra had led him down.

You won't let him do that though. Not after he's claimed you as his. You walk over to him and gently cup his cheek in your hand, briefly appreciating the way his delicate stubble teases your skin before you pull him in for a kiss, momentarily dispelling his dark thoughts and the shadows he's unwittingly let loose.

You loved kissing him. His soft lips against yours, the quiet sighs every time you tenderly caressed his cheek, his hair, the way he trembled under the smallest act of your undeniable love and tenderness. You loved him. Madly. To death. Sometimes so much that it worried you how much power he had over you. Almost as much power you had over him.

"I promise you. I will find a way. I AM finding a way. And I will stay forever. Even if I have to claw my way into eternity, I'll fucking do it because I love you. More than anything in this saint-forsaken world." You whisper shakily and press your lips to his in a silent promise.

Aleksander wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace as he presses you against his chest, hiding you from the world in the safe warmth of him around you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, allowing himself to be vulnerable with you - rare moments that you hold close to your heart.

"I... just don't give her false hope... and me." He mumbles against the skin of your icy neck, sending shivers down your spine from his warm breath.

"My dear Shadow Summoner... I will never leave you. I promise. Nothing will take me away from you. Neither Baghra nor death." You say, stroking his hair and pressing a kiss to his temple.

"I would be careful with Baghra." He mumbles a quiet warning against your ear, and you giggle, pressing kisses along the line of his jaw.

"I am not scared of shadows anymore." You promise him tenderly and capture his lips in a gentle, slow kiss, enjoying the way he entwines his hand in your hair and pulls you as close to him as possible, as if he wanted to make sure that really no force would tear you away from his embrace.

"I love you. I will always love you." He whispers against your lips and rests his forehead against yours, inhaling your scent deeply.

"I love you too."

Your bubble of peace only lasts for a moment. A few seconds later you hear quick, small footsteps as his sister returns.

"I found honey!" She exclaims happily and places the jar in the middle of the table, right next to the bread.

You give her a smile, ignoring Aleksander's embarrassed blush and destroying his attempts to explain the small supplies of their pantry by announcing that you're going fishing tomorrow. After all, they had to eat something.

As it turned out later, you had never been happier than that night, eating bread with honey in the company of the two people most important to you.

"So? Who was that?" Alina takes you out for a chat as soon as you leave your tent.

You look around the clearing, seeing Zoya and Nikolai sitting next to each other with bowls of food, Ulla writing in her book next to a still-tied Aleksander, and Baghra watching it all from a distance with a sneer on her face. It's a good thing Feydor, Ivan, Genya and David had the decency not to stare at you like the rest of them did when you went closer to the campfire for food.

"I have no idea what you're on about." You mumble, rubbing your aching temples and with a grateful smile you take the plate of food from Ulla. Deer. Oh the irony.

"No? So who immobilized us all 4 hours ago?"

"Maybe Ivan was having a bad day." You say evasively, biting into the meat. You really had the feeling that you were going to kill more than just that deer today. You wonder how much the world would miss Alina Starkov.

"Y/N…" Ulla starts, giving you one of her damn looks that you can't refuse. Bitch. She must have learned that from her brother.

"You have your past and I have my past. You don't need to know anything more."

"But our past does not threaten our mission." You raise an eyebrow at Alina's words and cast a significant glance at Aleksander - your first in weeks. You freeze as his dark irises stare back at you.

Another mistake you made today. You think to yourself as you let yourself drown in the blackness of his eyes. And you see many things there. Betrayal, pain, rage, but also... concern. For reasons obvious only to saints, he cared about what happened today. He really cared.

Before you can escape to the safe materials of your tent walls, Ulla unties the gag and ropes binding Aleksander. (The condition he was here under – he was to have shackles blocking his powers and a gag if he tried to throw another fold. They only took them off when you were nearby to eventually stop him.)

Your delayed reflexes cause you to stand, but you don't get very far before his cold, commanding voice echoes through the camp.

"Stop."

You freeze. Your heart beats a few times, but you don't turn to him yet, your gaze goes to the forest path that could take you far away from here and this uncomfortable conversation.

"Don't even try." It's like he reads your mind. A second later, he's standing right behind you, grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn to face him. You lift your chin, giving him an emotionless look, silently hoping he can't feel your heartbeat through his grip on your wrist. "Who was that?"

"My friend. Old one. From my last coven." You answer as briefly as you can, trying to ignore the way he stares at you intensely, as if he wants to rip the true, better answer out of your soul through your eyes.

"That's what I heard. Same with the part where she talks about how you killed half of them for me. Why?

A shiver runs down your spine, your heart clenching at the dry, indifferent way he asks you the question. So you do the one thing you do best – you enter a self-defence mood.

"None of your fucking business." You growl, practically spitting angrily in his face.

He raises an eyebrow at you, the tension between you so palpable that out of the corner of your eye you see Alina nodding at the others to move away from the two of you, clearly taking them out of the potential path of your mutual rage.

And good. You've never desired more to hit him ever before. To sink your claws into his heart and make him suffer as you did. To send him the darkest curse you have in your books. To leave him as miserable, as abandoned, as hurt, as angry as you have been all these centuries without him.

He deserves that for being a hypocrite. He... he had no right to worry about you when he was acting like this. So cold to you. Like nothing ever connected you. Like you where nothing to him.

"Everything you do in my name is my damn business. But let's move on to more pressing matters, why on earth was she able to hurt you? Why were you bleeding? I thought you were beyond… that you were insensitive to any attack."

"It's none of your damn business anymore." You repeat firmly, seething with rage that he has the nerve to be outraged at you for allowing yourself to be hurt. Like you're begging Jelena to put a dagger to your neck.

"Y/N..." Ulla's warning fades beneath the rush of shadows across the clearing.

His burst of power is so sudden and so fast that you can't block it, not with so much emotion churning inside you. And the bastard took advantage of the moment perfectly.

As if from a distance you can hear Ulla and Alina's screams as she tries to shine her light through his shadows, but Aleksander is stronger even than the Sun Summoner with her amplifiers.

Which is logical. He's had centuries of practice.

Without your necklace, all you can do is stand there, dazed by the sudden darkness around you. And though his shadow creatures growl around you, though you should be looking around frantically for a way to escape from him, all you can do is look into his eyes as he maneuvers you and pins you to a tree with his body.

You see many things in his eyes. Fury, rage, spite, and resentment, most of all. He wraps his hand around your neck, tightening it, reopening the wound that had somehow healed itself during your brief nap.

He watches the blood run down the column of your neck, staining his fingers. His grip on your throat tightens. You grunt and snort, fighting for air, but he doesn't seem to notice at all. He stares at your red and black blood, completely ignoring your gaze.

"Go on. Kill me. Do it." You hoarse into his face, his grip on your neck tightening.

Shadows circle around you like crazy, you can hear the others' cries in the distance, but they're effectively muffled the moment he leans down and rests his forehead against yours.

You freeze, completely unaware of what's going on. How can he be so hateful towards you one moment and then… hold you so gently, like you're still the only thing in this damn world that matters to him?

"You're a damn poison. A plague. How many times... how many times when I think I've finally gotten rid of you, you come back and…" He sighs, and you feel his breath tremble slightly as he traces the wound on your neck with his index finger. "I've dreamed of killing you as many times as I have of having you in my arms again."

The confession catches you off guard a little. You wonder if he wants to sweeten your death with sweet lies, but you know Aleksander. He doesn't lie. He just avoids the truth that's inconvenient for him, but he's never lied to you... unlike you.

"Same here." You mumble as your noses brush.

His lips so close to yours, memories of the days when you had every right to press your lips against his, to feast on him like he was the best delicacy in all of Ravka. He was still... just not yours anymore.

"I hate you." He whispers, shattering your heart into another thousand little pieces.

"I know." You answer, swallowing hard. After a while he pulls away from you. No hesitation. No trembling. As if pulling away from you was as easy as pulling away from a stranger. A slip in his composed stance. That was all you could count on.

The lack of his hands on your body, the cold without his touch becomes something much more uncomfortable than his gentle strangling of your neck. You wonder what would be better, death by his hand, as he holds you, or without him, living each day alone with the ghostly memory of his touch. Indeed, there are fates worse than death.

"Never again… never give it to me again." He says and pulls your necklace out of the pocket of his kefta. The glass heart with his blood rests on your neck again. He gently lifts the material of your shirt and hides it under it, covering it with his hand. Your heart beats like crazy under his palm. Pathetic how small and helpless you felt under his slightest touch. How desperate you were for him like a dry well for water. "I don't want… don't leave me. Not you."

"But you hate me." You mumble, unable to meet his gaze. Not if you want to maintain some dignity and not cry in front of him.

"And I've known you too long for you to die before me. Just like everyone else."

If he knew that with each such confession your heart was dying in longing for him, he didn't seem at all merciful today to spare you them. Or maybe he just didn't want to be merciful to you anymore.

"I have no intention of dying after you." You respond with a challenge of your own, congratulating yourself internally as you see his gaze harden and his hand involuntarily clench into a fist. It felt good to know you could hurt him as much as he could hurt you. That you still affect him...

"You killed those witches… to gain the spell to create this. Yes or no?" He asks, his hand tightening on the glass necklace hidden under your shirt.

You swallow, looking away from him. He’s having none of it. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him properly, to confront the pieces of your past you’ve desperately wanted to keep from him.

"Yes." You mumble, unable to stop yourself from leaning into his touch.

"You are a monster." He responds, stroking your jawline with his thumb as he looks at you with a faraway gaze, thinking intensively.

"Everyone with as many centuries lived as we do is one." You state, undaunted by his accusation.

All was fair in love and war.

And when you were at war with Ravka, Fjerda, with the whole world against you, when he and Ulla were everything to you... what else could you have done? Nothing. If you could turn back time, you would go back and do the exact same thing.

Love could make you crazy, reckless, selfish, monstrous, but if you could live another day with Aleksander... you would do the same and worse. Much worse. You could do anything in the name of your love for him.

Even kill yourself.

Even live for him forever.

"Who is chasing you?" He asks, but seeing you turn your head away from him again, he cups your cheek and forces you to look at him properly. He leans in a little, his fingers unconsciously caressing your skin, which burns from his touch. And you want, no, you CRAVE more. So much more… "Y/N."

Your name falls like a whispered prayer from his lips, so tender, so different from the way he treats you now, so similar to the way he whispered it in the middle of the night and pulled you into the safe embrace of his arms.

You almost cry. You almost cry for him; you almost cling to him, crying your heart out, explaining to him the sacrifices you've made for him, how many enemies you've made by giving him your heart and yourself completely. But you don't. No, knowing he'll pull away from you the moment he gets the information he needs.

You weren't that much of a masochist.

"It's none of your business. I'm not yours. And you're not mine either."

You don't know who you're reminding of this, whether it's him, yourself, or both of you, but after your words he goes back to his cold demeanor towards you.

"You're right. Sometimes I forget about it." He pulls away from you as if burned.

You feel him shrinking the number of his shadows, letting his power hide again. After a moment, a blinding light appears instead of his shadows, and then you are back in the clearing, Aleksander, as usual, an ocean away from you.

"Good job, Alinochka." He praises her, giving her one of his smirks that once made you melt. Now it makes bile rise in your throat.

You know perfectly well that he's saying this specifically to hurt you, to show you the truth of your words. To prove to you that after all these centuries he has moved on and is truly no longer yours.

But that didn't mean it hurt any less.

And when you see Alina staring at him with the same inscrutable, angry, and lovesick gaze you had all those centuries ago at the beginning of your relationship, you know one thing.

You were slowly getting tired of apologising to him for loving him.

It's been ages. It felt like ages. I hope you enjoyed it! Any comments/messages/hearts are greatly appreciated and thank you so much!!! If you want to, let me know what you think 🥰🖤🖤🖤

Taglist (I hope everyone who wants to be here is here): @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat @barnes70stark

@zeeader @the-desilittle-bird

@thepassionatereader @budugu

@sinistersnakey @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic

@aryhyuuga

@oh-thats-cute

@meadows5

@dreamtheatre

@sinistersnakey

@lovelydoveval

@shatteredheartofdarkness

@m-ichelles-world

@ariesmai

@flostvs1508

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Imagine The Lost Boys bringing Michaels sweet younger sister to the cave to corrupt her when Michael begins to turn against them

Tags: @vxncevis

A/N: A bit of dark/dub con themes

Michaels’ lack of cooperation with the boys caused David to seethe, but the way Michael had hid you from them, and the way your eyes seemed to sparkle at them all, made David’s wicked mind begin to form a plan.

Paul was sent out to find you, knowing that his mix of boyish charm and enchanting flirting would be enough to draw you to the rest of them. When he found you, he fought to hold down the moan that threatened to slip.

You looked so innocent, simply eating your ice cream as you stared at the water, your pastel pink sundress making you appear even sweeter. Paul wished he could take you right there, keep you for himself, keep you from his brothers— but that was not the plan.

“Hey, baby,” Paul’s charming smile and enchanting voice causing you to gasp as you stared at him with wide eyes.

It was much easier then Paul had ever thought to pull you toward his brothers. A charming smile, a finger tracing your cheek, and sweet whispered words against your ear was all it took.

Hiding behind Paul like a scared puppy from the view of his brothers, stirred something animalistic in them all. Ushering you over to them, his strong hand on the small of your back, gently pushed you toward them. You felt pinned under the gaze of them all, four pairs of eyes staring into your soul.

“Go sit on the back of Marko’s bike, sweetheart, he’ll keep you safe,” Paul whispered in your ear, enchanting your body to follow.

Dwayne’s large hands on your waist cause you to let out a squeaking gasp, as he placed you on the back of Marko’s bike.

“You just wrap your sweet arms around Marko like a good girl and he’ll take such good care of you,” Dwayne whispered hotly in your ear, a fleeting cold kiss on your neck.

*****

With the feel of four pairs of hands and lips all over your body, they managed to enchant you through the cave and out of your clothes. You’d never felt more exposed as you sat on the bed fully naked, while all four at them stare at you.

Paul was the first one to step forward. His hand gently caressed your cheek as he stared down at you. Usually you’d be blushing and turning away from his gaze, but there was something so enchanting that you couldn’t look away.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Paul’s thumb grazed over your bottom lip as he continued to stare. As if on instinct, your lips parted and you found yourself sucking on his thumb. Hearing the groans from all four boys made you feel proud as you continue to suck.

Suddenly you felt a pair of cold but intoxicating lips on your neck, leaving light kisses and nibbles.

“You’re doing such a good job for Paul, little girl,” you recognised the voice as Dwayne, “you gonna be that good for all of us?”

Paul removed his thumb from your mouth so you could reply.

“Yes.”

The answer was simply and breathless, but it was all they needed to hear as three of them began to manoeuvre your body how they needed you. David simply sat on a chair, while he watched his boys strip and enchant you into the perfect position.

Moving you onto all fours, Dwayne stayed behind you and Paul stayed above you, but Marko now laid below you.

“You want us to fill you up, baby? Make you feel so good,” Paul cooed, his hand stroking your cheek as you could already feel both men rubbing against your dripping pussy.

“I’ve never, and I don’t know how.”

Your innocent answer made all four of them let out an animalistic growl, growing more and more desperate for you.

“You don’t have to know how, you just let us look after you,” Paul cooed sweetly.

“Okay,” was all you could manage to whimper out.

Wide grins grew on the four boys as you began to feel both Marko and Dwayne slowly stretch you out, both entering your pussy at once. They went slow and you felt so cared for, Paul’s hand stroking your cheek as your mouth began to open in a silent moan.

“Good girl, now you just keep that mouth nice and open for me.”

Looking up at Paul, he looked like an angel and a demon wrapped in one, as he slowly pushed his hard length into your mouth.

David could see and read through your mind that you wanted to be good for them, that even in this depraved act you still want to be good.

“You’re doing so well for us, sweetheart. Just relax and let the boys take good care of you,” David encouraged from his spot on the chair.

Though he words and tone was sweet, the way he fucked his hand was anything but. You really did want to be their good girl, and the way they were filling and fucking you made you feel euphoric. These three gorgeous men taking such care of you, and one’s hungry gaze burning your skin.

The cave was filled with sounds of pure sin, moaning, swearing, skin slapping against skin. It made your mind drift into a state of pure bliss, as you let them take care of you, though some might see it more as using you.

You weren’t sure how many times you’d cum, or how long they’d been using your body, but when Paul pulled out and came all over your face, your mind was too dizzy to care and your jaw was too sore to argue.

Face covered in spit, cum and sweat, Marko and Dwayne’s strong hands were the only things keeping you up, your body moving frantically from their hard thrusts.

“You gonna let us cum inside you, sweet girl?” Dwayne breathlessly moaned in your ear.

‘I wanna be a good girl’ your overstimulated mind kept repeating.

“You’re such a good girl, let them cum in you, baby,” Paul encouraged, as if he could read your mind, now having dressed as he walked over to you with an ornate bottle in his hand.

Paul raised the bottle to your mouth as it opened if on instinct. The red liquid landed in your mouth and overflowed down your chin and over your chest as your ears were filled with the sound of Marko, Dwayne and David’s shouting moans.

Marko, Dwayne and David cum to the sight of you covered in what you are unaware of is their blood. Your body rocks and shakes as a final orgasm is ripped from you, and your body is used for a few final thrusts by the two men.

Falling limply into the men’s arms, you only vaguely register the four of them cleaning you up and tucking you into a surprisingly plush bed.

“Good night, princess,” is the last thing you hear as you begin to drift off.

[bressynotanymore]

Distracting 🏹🦿

[supermarine-silvally]

🌹

From And I'll Surrender (Myself to You) --

Yara finally spared him a glance, her eyebrow raising. That red tinge was back on Ace’s cheeks as he looked at her with a rather sheepish expression on his face. She crossed her arms. “Why do you keep doing this?”

For every 🌹I'll post a line of a WIP!

[partiallysame]

Ghost gets no bitches and he reminds me of whatever that TikTok audio is that’s like “how’d you get her?” And the other person is like “get her? No she grabbed me by the throat and told me I was hers”.

Word count: 800

Warnings: none (ghost being immediately whipped)

So hear me out you’re at the grocery store and while walking down the aisles you see this behemoth of a man. Big muscle sexy, surgical mask covering his face. You want. What to say? How should you approach? Ah yes you need help getting something from the top shelf. Stepping so you’re in his line of sight

“Could you come here?” You ask him and he just gives you a blank stare. Raising your eyebrows clearly waiting for a response he turns around looking for who you could be talking to and who is clearly not listening to you. When he sees no one else in the aisle he slowly points at himself, questioning you. “Yes you.” You smile trying to hold in a laugh. Quickly adding a “please” in the sweetest little voice and he is scurrying over to you.

“Could you please reach that box for me?” Ghost raises his arm up and points to a box when you nod confirming that’s the one you want he hands it to you. “That one too please” he obeys. You have him hand you two more boxes (not needing any of them). Then you try to push your luck a little. “Wait not this one” you hand him a box back and he returns it to the shelf. Before you know it you’ve had this man put all the boxes back just to hand them to you again. A smirk plastered on your face. Not once did the large man question you, not when you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“Ok done with this aisle. Come on.” You start walking and his feet are following you. He hasn’t said a word to you but is following you around the store like a puppy. Down the next aisle you pointed at something (well within your reach) and he handed it you.

“Are you always this obedient?” You watched his eyes go wide but he found himself nodding. He’d probably say yes to anything you ask when you’re looking at him like that, like you want to eat him whole. His answer brought a smile to your face and he swore his knees were gonna buckle. You held out your hand, “phone.” It was a statement not a question and he quickly (fumbling) pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. When you saw it was locked you looked up at him moving the phone ever so slightly towards him. You had meant for him to take the phone and unlock it but instead he mumbled out “0000” a small but dramatic gasp left your lips “oh so he does speak.” You typed in the 4 digits and the phone opened. You looked up at him when the basic passcode worked. “Simple and obedient. Just how I like ‘em” ghost swallowed hard. No one has ever treated him like this. Spoke to him like this. Not even Price. He should be offended? Insulted? Definitely not turned on. Right? (mark him down and scared AND horny). You handed his phone back to him, your number and name resting on his screen. He reached to take the phone from you, but you didn’t let go. Fingers touching you looked up at him “you better call me. I’ll be real sad if you dont.” He swore he was gonna pass out. Before you let go of his phone, hands still touching, heavy steps made their way into your aisle.

“Aye lieutenant there ye are. Been wandering round lookin fer ya.” Soap called down the aisle.

Ghost refused to acknowledge his friend calling for him, keeping eye contact with you. Your smile got bigger as you let go of the phone.

“Lieutenant huh? That mean you know how to give orders too?” He nodded again. “Then I’m definitely going to need you to call me. I’d like to see that.” Your eyes shamelessly raked down his figure. Fuck he needs to hold on to something.

Once you finally walked away, Soap approached quickly asking who you were and when ghosted shrugged his shoulders “I don’t know.” (But he’s gonna that’s for sure)

“She’s a fine looking lass I’m gonna go talk to her.” Ghost’s hand moved fast, grabbing the back of Soap’s neck guiding (pushing) him in the opposite direction of you. He was thanking god you saw him first and not Soap. If you had talked to Soap like that, ghost knew you’d have him walking on a leash (who’s he kidding if you had asked ghost would’ve barked)

Part 2 Part 2.5 part 3

[bunnis-monsters]

A bunny breeding his pup

Commissioned by @dumbdoggygirl

Bunny Hybrid x Puppy Hybrid!Reader

warnings: breeding, knotting, pregnancy sex, pheromones, lactation, cervix kiss

summary: Bunny hybrid Momo stands up to a wolf hybrid and walks you home. The two of you become friends then start dating, but when you go into heat you’re afraid he might not be able to keep up with your puppy hybrid stamina. Little did you know, the saying “breeding like rabbits” was very accurate…

Word count: 5k words

You have had trouble trusting people lately. Male hybrids only wanted one thing, and that was mating.

The thought was always in the back of your mind when you went out into town or wandered back home a bit too late at night. If you didn’t keep yourself safe, no one would.

This was all before you met him.

It had been a long day, and all you wanted was to pick up something sweet before going home to your little cottage in the woods. It was always a bit scary coming home from work, especially when the moon wasn’t able to guide your way due to the fluffy clouds blocking it.

You were planning on plopping down on your soft, warm bed and passing out as soon as you walked in your door… but fate had something else in mind.

“Hey, pretty girl!”

An annoyed sigh left your lips as you turned to look to your left. There was a wolf hybrid approaching, his shoulders relaxed and his stride confident.

“You look like you’d appreciate someone walking you home. There’s a lotta bad guys out here, you know?”

His arm wrapped around your shoulder roughly, causing you to stumble forward before you steadied yourself.

You, politely as you could manage, pushed his arm off of your shoulder, trying to give him a smile. “Ahh, I’m okay, but thanks.”

When he kept following you, your heart began to race. You could feel his eyes on you, and knew he saw you as something to prey on, a slab of meat to a hungry predator.

“Come on, pup. You’re gonna turn down a nice guy trying to help you out. Don’t be a bitch…”

He attempted to reach for your wrist, but you wrenched it away. “I said I’m okay… please, just leave me alone…”

This only seemed to anger him, the wolf puffing out his chest as his ears pinned back. A low growl could be heard as he advanced on you.

“Leave you alone? I-“

Before he could speak any further, a figure rushed between the two of you, standing with his back to the wolf.

“Hey, sweetheart. I saw that you weren’t home yet and came to meet you halfway. All our friends are waiting for us, I said we’d be back in five minutes.”

The person in front of you was a bunny hybrid with soft, curly hair and fluffy bunny ears atop his head. He gave you a sweet smile as if he had known you his entire life and looped his arm with yours.

“Ahh, do you know this man?” the bunny hybrid asked, his eyes cutting to the wolf hybrid, his yellow orbs losing all the warmth they had when he looked at you.

The wolf spluttered, holding up his hands, obviously turned off when he heard there were people looking for you. “W-was just gonna walk her home. Never mind…”

The bunny hybrid stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving the wolf as he scurried away.

“Damn wolf hybrids think that they can scare people like that, but the second they know they could be caught they run off!”

The bunny’s foot thumped against the ground rapidly, indicating he was pissed at the situation. You smiled, reaching out to tug on his sleeve.

“Thank you for that. Most hybrids would be too scared to stand up to a wolf like you did.”

He turned back to look at you, a smile stretching across his face. When you really looked at him, your first thought was that he looked… really cute.

“No problem. Are you alright?”

His cotton tail twitched as your puppy tail perked up. “Yes, I’m okay. Just…”

You winced, and he noticed your wrist that had been grabbed was a bit swollen.

“Ahh, that asshole… if you put some ice on it when you get home, that should help with the swelling and hopefully prevent a bruise from forming.”

The bunny tilted his head as your ears lowered, your tail wagging a bit. “Can I… ask your name?”

His ears flicked as he nodded rapidly. “Yes, I’m Momo. And you?”

You smiled, offering a hand. “I’m (Name), nice to meet you.”

Momo ended up walking you home, making sure that he kept you safe from anything that dared to come close. For a bunny hybrid, he was quite tough.

And as far as males went, he was the sweetest thing you’d ever encountered. To no one’s surprise, you were quick to exchange numbers with him.

The two of you became friends rather quickly. It wasn’t until long that you found out Momo was single, just like you. He was so soft and sweet, and every morning you received a text asking how you were doing and if he could come over when you weren’t busy.

It made your heart beat faster, a fuzzy feeling taking over your body that made your tail wag uncontrollably…

Was this… what having a crush was like?

You met up with him one afternoon, wearing your favorite dress, one he had said made your eyes sparkle. Momo always knew how to make you feel shy and flattered.

“Hey, pretty pup!”

You turned at the sound of his voice, your tail wagging as soon as you caught a whiff of his scent. His own cotton tail twitched, a smile lighting up his face.

“Hi, Momo. What did you want to talk about?”

The bunny had called you a few hours ago, asking for a last minute meeting at a cafe. This was strange to you, he usually asked to come to your home or his to spend time together. You had only known him for a few months now, but you felt like you knew him enough to tell something was different about this.

Momo scratched the back of his head, his fluffy bunny ears twitching. “Well… I thought a public place would be better for the question I want to ask.”

Your curiosity was piqued, and it was obvious by the way your tail picked up speed that you were excited. “Well come on, let’s order some coffee and talk!”

After settling into a booth and some small talk, Momo suddenly became very serious, looking at you fondly.

“I’ve… really enjoyed all the time we’ve spent together.”

Your cheeks heated up, and you found yourself fidgeting with your skirt. “I have too. It’s really been the best part of my day when you call me.”

His bunny ears twitched, his hand reaching out to hold yours.

“Will… you be my girlfriend?”

Your eyes widened with surprise, your heart thundering inside of your chest as your tail wagged furiously behind you. It was obvious how you felt just by the way your tail thumped against the booth behind you.

“Y-yes!”

The two of you shared bashful smiles, and he nuzzled his nose against yours. The rest of the date was filled with giddy giggles and yummy snacks, and by the end he was ready to take you home.

For the next few months, the two of you fell in love, unable to stay apart from each other for long. He visited you often, his soft bunny ears making him easy to spot in crowds when meeting up together.

It didn’t take long for you two to kiss for the first time. It was on your third date, and seeing his cute cotton tail twitch when your lips met was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

The first bit of intimacy the two of you shared was while the two of you watched a movie together at your apartment. It was a sappy romcom, and he was feeling a bit bored… so his hand trailed down your thigh, playing with the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Mmm, you keep watching the movie, princess…”

Your puppy tail wagged a bit as he moved to kneel in front of you, his soft nose nuzzling against your thigh. He looked up at you for permission, his teeth nibbling on your soft flesh.

This was the first time a male had ever been so close to you, but you nodded, trying to pay attention to the movie while he kissed your pussy through your panties.

It wasn’t long before you were soaking through the thin fabric, unable to concentrate on the movie anymore. The lewd sounds of him lapping up your slick and sucking on your clit through your panties was too loud, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“P-Please, Momo… more, I need it…”

He tilted his head, looking up at you through his soft lashes. “More..? Okay, puppy…”

Momo pushed your panties to the side, giving your bare pussy a sniff before burying his face between your thighs.

You let out a muffled moan, covering your mouth as he latched onto your clit, sucking and keeping your thighs apart so he could taste your sweet juices.

The way he looked up at you with those sweet golden, yellow eyes of his with such lust and adoration had you cumming within seconds.

He stayed between your head like that for at least 30 minutes, bringing you to orgasm several times before you were too blissed out to even think.

Momo smiled, his cotton tail wagging as he crawled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over the two of you and pulling you to his chest.

“Goodnight, puppy…”

——————————

You felt embarrassed, almost… shy. Your heat cycle was coming, and you had a date with Momo. It was going to be your 6 month anniversary, and you really didn’t want to miss it!

But…

Although Momo had saved you and was so sweet to you, there was always a voice in the back of your head saying he would never be able to handle your heat. He was just a bunny hybrid, and you were a puppy.

It made you sad, really… would you have to break up with him one day and be with someone with a similar heat cycle to you? Maybe a wolf or puppy hybrid…

As the date approached, you told yourself that you would just go… but when it was finally time to get dressed, your heat hit you like a tsunami.

You writhed on the bed, fingers doing nothing to ease the ache in your cunt. It took everything you had to text Momo that you couldn’t come. You didn’t bother to read his reply, just turning onto your belly, lifting your hips to try and shove your fingers deeper inside.

It felt like you could just burn alive, a pit in the bottom of your belly forming. It had never been so intense before, all you wanted to do was scream! Maybe your body was reacting to Momo’s scent. It was all over your apartment after all, and you buried your face into a hoodie he left behind, whimpering in absolute agony.

Your heats had never been easy, but in the past at least you had been able to deal with them without too much struggle. Now it felt impossible, you couldn’t even orgasm by yourself!

As you began to cry into his hoodie, you thought you could almost hear his voice. Your mind was a bit hazy from your heat… but it felt comforting.

You wish you would have just asked him to come over… now you were too weak to do anything besides sniffle and cry into his hoodie.

“Puppy!”

The sound of Momo’s voice became much clearer. Your puppy ear twitched, and you picked up his scent in the air. That wasn’t just some of his lingering musk…

“Puppy, I’m here! Please, let me in. I n-need you!”

You could only whimper, blabbering out a reply through your tears. “C-can’t! Can’t get up!”

It was silent for a moment, but then there was a loud BANG!

You looked on in shock to see the door beginning to splinter. Momo was breaking it down!

Momo wasn’t weak, but you had never thought he was capable of such feats of strength! Even the wolf hybrids you met in college wouldn’t be able to do that…

He kicked through, his leg breaking through the wood. He used the hole to reach his hand in and unlock the door. As soon as Momo was in, his eyes scanned the room for you.

“Baby…”

He walked over, dropping down to his knees by your bedside. His eyes scanned over your form, and you noticed how hazy those golden orbs of his were as he sniffed the air.

“You’re in heat… why didn’t you tell me?”

You struggled to speak, your pussy clenching around nothing as he stared down at you. The way he was looking at you… was he..?

“I w-was… embarrassed… and I didn’t want you to know. You’ve probably never been with a puppy hybrid before, you don’t understand how intense our heats are…”

You had heard tales from friends and family about how smaller hybrids would try and take on canines, seeing it as a challenge. They assumed they could take it, and would come out with good offspring because of the strong wombs of their mates.

But most failed to properly satisfy their mates, ending in unhappy partnerships and tears. You had been hoping to marry Momo, but you were afraid he may also be chasing some tail…

He was kind, you really liked him… but could he handle you like this? You were so desperate, you wanted to pounce and use him until his body broke! It was scary… you were losing the little control you had over your body!

Before you could speak again, you helped, feeling him pin you down with strength you would have never expected from such a small hybrid. He leaned over you, his face flushed but his eyes sharp.

“Oh, my sweet pup…”

He cooed, his pants stretching painfully over his aching cock. Precum leaked down his leg, his red cock barely contained by his pants.

“You’ve never been with a bunny hybrid, have you?”

Your eyes widened, and you were silenced when his mouth landed on yours. It was an instant connection, your tail wagging furiously as his tongue tangled around yours.

Though your cunt pulsed and ached with need and lust, your heart was soaring with love. His lips on yours always made you happy, but now you could almost feel his love and desire from you just from this kiss alone.

“Y-you’re… in rut?”

You gasped this out when he broke away, finally able to pick up his scent over your own heavy pheromones. Momo smiled, nuzzling his forehead against yours. “Yes… I am. I was hoping to spend it with you… if that’s alright.”

Your ears lowered and you tucked your puppy tail between your legs, considering his suggestion. Part of you wanted to say no, fearful that you may hurt him. You loved Momo after all, and would rather have an agonizingly painful heat cycle than lose him.

But the other part of you needed him. You could already feel his clothed cock rubbing against your fat cunt, begging to breed and mate with you. Your heat riddled mind was begging for you to say yes and mate, to be filled with cum and covered in his marks!

“Please…”

You looked up at him with hazy, teary eyes, playing with your own pussy to try and ease the searing heat in your loins. The only thing on your mind now was being bred by your lover and your belly swelling with his young. It’s all you could ever want or need.

Momo panted, his bunny ears twitching as he tugged his pants down, his fat red cock resting on your belly. He was much bigger than you expected, and your pussy yet again clenched around nothing while you imagined him inside of you.

“Gonna be inside my puppy…”

He prodded at your cunt, rubbing his precum and your slick together before pressing in. Momo hissed at how tight you were, his soft pink nose twitching as your sweet, warm pussy envelopes around him.

It was like heaven, being inside of you. Nothing could have prepared him for the utter bliss of mounting his pretty little puppy and taking your for his own.

Without much thought, be bit down on your neck and shoulders, his hips rutting into yours. You were so wet, so needy for him that he started thrusting right away. The sounds that came from your love making was lewd, loud squelching and moans filling the air.

Before long you were cumming, your cunt squeezing and milking his cock, but even as he filled you up with his seed, he didn’t stop.

After a few rounds you began to get tired, happy that he was able to last…

But Momo was far from finished.

You whined softly as he lifted your leg, continuing to fuck into your fat, warm cunt as his fingers played with your clit. Your neck was covered in hickeys, your chubby tummy protruding with his cum…

“M-Momo…”

You whimpered, your pussy swollen from abuse, but your lover only kissed along your neck, placing you on your tummy before climbing back up to mount you.

“Shh, puppy… not even close to being done…”

You yelped as he held onto your arms for leverage, his cock kissing your cervix as he fucked you deep. Your own fingers could never reach that far, and you knew Momo was trying to get you pregnant!

The only thing on his mind right now was his vision of you in a few months. You’d be waddling around, your breasts heavy with milk and belly swollen with his babies. Even since he laid eyes on you, he knew that he would be the one to breed you, to lay claim to your womb. You were his, and he’d make sure everyone in the world knew this fact.

He grabbed your tail, holding onto it as he knotted your sweet, warm pussy. You were just too cute, crying and overstimulated. Momo couldn’t wait to make you cum so much you couldn’t even think anymore!

Even after his knot swelled up inside of you, his hips continued to stutter and plap against your fat ass. He just couldn’t help it, you felt too good and he wanted to fuck you on his knot!

Your body felt so warm and exhausted, you could barely manage to lift your fluffy tail to give him access to your abused cunt so he could continue to pump you full of his cum.

Momo was too far into his rut to notice your exhaustion. His body was reacting to your pheromones and he was driven by pure instinct to knock you up.

He bit down on your neck, holding onto your hips as his knot deflated. The second he was able to properly fuck you again, Momo slammed his cock into you, kissing your cervix.

The night of mating was filled with tears, whines, and so, so much cum. You had never as tired as you were the next morning, your body covered in love bites and stuffed full of cum.

Momo was already awake, his cotton tail wagging as he played with your soft puppy ears. “Good morning, princess…”

He looked down at you, his cheeks pink and his eyes darting from your face to the side then back to you. With the way he had fucked you until you saw stars and cried, he was a bit embarrassed with how fat he had gone.

The bunny could remember knotting you several times, just to continue fucking you the second it deflated enough so he could move.

You whined as you turned to snuggle into your mate, burying your face into his neck. “Mmph… you really wanna give me a litter?”

His heart thumped against his chest so hard you were sure you could feel it. “Yes… I… I love you, (Name). I want to be with you, and make you a mother…”

You touched your nose to his, both of you letting off soft purrs and happy sounds as you spent the morning tangled together in an intimate embrace.

From a young age you had been taught that bunny hybrids were quite fertile. Even when mating with other species, it was almost guaranteed that with just one sexual encounter, pregnancy would be in your future.

And that information had been completely correct.

Momo was absolutely thrilled when he began smelling pregnancy hormones on you, and from then on he became insanely protective and touchy.

Watching your belly begin to grow made him… feel many things. It was physical evidence of the love you two shared, the intimacy and touch that created life within his beloved mate.

As your pregnancy progressed, he caught himself getting hard and horny every time he watched you go up a size in your pants or shirts, or when you had to stop wearing bras because your tits were too heavy and full of milk.

Getting to witness you in the morning when you leaked through your shirt and seeing your cute flustered face as he lifted the soiled fabric and lapped at your darkened nipples… it was pure bliss for him.

Sucking and nipping softly at your sensitive buds allowed the milk to flow, filling his mouth with that tasty, creamy liquid he had come to crave.

Momo could feel his cock hardening, and he felt almost shy. Just as your own body had been becoming sensitive and needy through your pregnancy, his was responding to yours.

When you whined and tugged at his pants, he sighed. “Puppy, I’m not sure if it’s safe for us to mate when you’re this far along… your belly is heavy and swollen, I don’t wanna hurt our kits…”

You pouted at him, puffing out your chubby cheeks at his hesitation. While he was so close, you could feel your body aching to mate with him. Momo’s scent made you feel so hot and bothered, if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d go crazy!

That’s when an idea came to your mind. Momo wasn’t exactly hard to seduce. In fact, he was usually more horny than you most days, much needier as well. If you played your cards right, he might not be able to help himself.

“Baby…”

You opened your legs a little, letting him get a whiff of your arousal. The mix of that and your pregnancy pheromones made his body tremble.

“Yes, my love..?”

You leaned forward, pouting as you nuzzled your face into his neck, rubbing your scent on him. “Can you please take care of me? I need you…”

That was his tipping point. How in the hell was he supposed to just sit by when his beloved mate was desperate for release?

‘Just have to be gentle…’ he thought as he lowered you onto the bed and rubbed his throbbing bulge against your clothed cunt.

The feeling of your soaked panties pressing against his hard on was enough to make him hiss out in a mix of pleasure and need. Momo wanted to be inside of his mate more than anything.

“Momo… please!”

You struggled to move your hips against his with your baby bump in the way. His hand settled over your swollen belly, keeping you in place. It made his heart and sick throb thinking about how he had put kits into that round belly of yours.

“Don’t worry, puppy. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise…”

He pulled your panties off before lifting your shirt, his eyes on those perky, darkened nipples of yours. Once you were bare, his hands explored your body in a reverent way.

The changes you were going through were because of him. He had bred his sweet pup, leaving you pregnant and heavy with his kits.

“You’re beautiful…”

His fat cock rubbed against your clit, and he lined up his lips with your nipple. Milk was already beading at your perky bud. Your breasts were heavy and swollen, something you had been complaining about earlier.

Momo was going to kill two birds with one stone. He would satisfy you sexually and milk your fat tits.

His cock pressed into you, almost agonizingly slow. Momo was being as gentle as possible, sinking into his gravid little mate while his tongue lapped up the milk bearding to the surface of your nipple.

“So good… like honey…”

You arched your back, whining and struggling to take his cock while you were so heavily pregnant. You felt stuffed full… in the best way.

“M-Momo… faster…”

His bunny ears flicked, his eyes half lidded as he struggled to keep himself from pounding you into the mattress.

Your puppy cunt was just so tight and you were begging for him… Momo wanted to go faster, to feel your spongy walls tighten around his knot.

But he continued to fuck you at an agonizing pace, making your puppy tail wag. He loves you so much, he didn’t want to hurt his precious mate!

It was when your milk spurted into his mouth when he hit that special spot that he lost a bit of control. His cotton tail began to wag with yours as his thrusts sped up, his hips rutting against you.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

You let out a whine as Momo lifted your leg, pressing it against your pregnant belly so he fuck you deeper. Every time his cock hit your g-spot your milk spurted out again. His hand squeezed and teased your other breast.

The sight of your milk spraying out of your nipple in little streams made him go crazy. He began fucking you like an animal, his mind gone. All that he could think was that he wanted to breed you, to stuff you full of his cum again.

He couldn’t remember you were already pregnant, he was trying to knock you up again!

“Momo, g-gonna-!”

Your puppy cunt clenched around him, causing Momo to grunt and grab hold of your fat hips. He was frustrated, it was already hard enough to fuck you with your pregnant belly in the way, now you were clenching around him and preventing him from being able to move.

Suddenly you were on your side, a pillow propping up your belly as your mate crawled behind you. His arm snakes under your side, grabbing onto your fat tit and groping it as his cock sunk into your again.

“F-fuck, you’re perfect…”

He lifted your leg, now able to fuck into you as deep as he wanted, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

Now he could properly please his mate and satisfy his need to breed you and unleash his seed into your womb.

Momo nipped at your neck, your tail brushing against his chest as he milked you. You felt sticky and warm, milk running down your chest and pregnant belly.

He could feel his knot beginning to swell, he was going to cum soon!

“Puppy… fuck, I love you so much…”

The feeling of your fat pussy being stretched so his knot could fit had you cumming again, and his cum spurted into your puppy cunt.

The two of you were left a panting mess, tails wagging and ears twitching as you came down from your respective highs.

Momo looked at his mate, his cheeks red and heart full of love. You looked beautiful like this, flushed from sex and pregnant with his kits.

He kissed the top of your head, nuzzling his face against your hair as the two of you waited for his knot to deflate.

“Did I satisfy you, pup? Seems like you’re pretty happy to me…”

You smiled, your body heavy with exhaustion. It took great effort to lift your arm and cup his cheek.

“You always do… my mate always takes care of me.”

You both shared a kiss, tails wagging in sync.

Two months later, Momo held your hand as you gave birth. It was a difficult process, but in the end you were able to give birth to 5 happy babies. Some had fluffy little bunny ears and cotton tails like their father, while others looked like you.

“Mmm, it seems like they like you.”

You smiled, watching as your mate helped you hold onto your little ones. He was easily able to soothe them as they fussed, it was clear they already knew who their father was.

Momo sat at your bedside, his cotton tail wagging excitedly while he watched you breastfeed the kits ans pups for the first time.

“They’re hungry little things…”

His mouth was watering, and once all of them were fed, you lifted your shirt up and smiled. “C’mon, it’s Papa’s turn.”

He nearly knocked over his chair rushing to join you in the hospital bed, making sure to keep his weight off of you as he settled and latched onto your breast.

Momo looked up at you with those golden eyes, and you gently scratched behind his fluffy ears. “Mmm, my big baby.”

He yelped and turned red when you slipped your hand into his pants, jerking him off. You knew that he got hard while drinking your milk, and you just loved toying with your cute mate.

“P-puppy, what if the nurse comes in-“

You continued you pump his cock, making him moan against your breast. “Shh… just lemme make you feel good…”

He stared up at you, nipping on your perky bud. “I’m going to get you back your this, pup.”

“Mmm, I know…”

It didn’t take much to make him knot your hand, his hips bucking as he groaned, cum staining his pants. “Maybe I wanna rile you up for later…”

Momo gave you a lazy smile, his eyes hazy from pleasure. “Someone wants me to knock her up again…”

“As soon as I’m recovered… I’m all yours. Promise you’ll take care of me during my next heat?”

“And every single one after that. We’re bonded, pup. I’m yours… forever.”

[thrasherella]

Needy Werewolf Husband is going into his rut and is really, reaallllyyyyy trying to get his wife's attention away from the household chores she's insisting on finishing before he can have his way with her...

...

He followed her all around the kitchen as she tidied up, wrapping his arms around her from behind and groping her tits as she cleaned the few dishes in the sink, pinching and teasing her nipples as she sighed and moaned, grinding his hard cock into her soft ass, his breath hot and voice desperate against her ear as he begged her to let him fuck her already.

"Please let me put it in..." he whined, nipping at the shell of her ear lightly in frustration as his swollen, red cock throbbed against her, begging for more attention, for more friction, for more anything; he felt like he was starting to lose his mind.

She had told him to keep humping her ass like a horny little puppy if he couldn't wait, and he really couldn't. He continued fondling her breasts, palming and squeezing them in his massive hands, and she whimpered and mewled, rolling her hips back against his.

"See, you want it too..."

She continued to deny him as she finished wiping and organizing the kitchen counters, his cock dribbling all over her backside as he pumped against her, unable to stop himself. He needed to pin her down, needed to stuff her full of his cock; he could smell her arousal mounting as she ground that perfect little ass back against him, her honeyed scent driving him absolutely wild.

"Just a little longer love, you're being such a good boy," she cooed, scratching him gently under his chin as he made puppy dog eyes at her, eliciting from him a low, humming moan.

He humped her legs while she vacuumed the living room, whimpering and growling as she did her best to ignore him, slowly and methodically making her way across the room as he ground into her, dragging and rubbing his cock against her, staining her clothes with his sticky precum, nipping at the back of her neck and ears, demanding her attention.

"Please, need to fuck you now baby, need to fill you; need to empty my cock into your perfect little pussy and give you a litter of pups..."

"Be a good boy and wait until I'm done cleaning the bedroom, okay?" she had purred, and he whimpered a weak agreement in response.

When they got to the bedroom however, she was helpless against him as he shoved her face first down onto the mattress, ripping apart those pesky little shorts and panties that had been blocking his aching cock, confirming what he already knew from her overwhelming scent that her cunt was already drenched and waiting for him to stretch and fill her.

"I lied," he huffed, mounting her from behind and lining up his dripping cockhead with her pussy, parting her nether lips slowly around him, loving how she moaned into her pillow as he did. "I don't wanna be a good boy; and you were a bad girl, it's not nice to tease a rutting wolf...now you be good, and take my knot," he hilted into her in one hard thrust, feeling her pussy clenching around him; a low, rumbling growling escaping his throat, and a deliciously muffled scream coming from her as he knotted her, forcing every inch of himself into her tight cunt.

He was already so overstimulated, biting down into her shoulder as he came, painting her insides white as he filled her with his thick load, and she cried out as her own orgasm crashed over her, hips bucking and rolling against him, squirting her climax all over his dick and pooling on the bedsheets.

"That's a good girl," his breath was hot against her ear, pushing her hips up slightly to get one clawed hand between her and the mattress, flittering and rubbing his fingers against her swollen clit, loving how she writhed and squirmed beneath him helplessly. "No more chores, no where for you to go, sweet thing stuffed and stuck on my knot...just be a good girl and turn off your brain, and squirt on my dick again, and again, and again while I make you my cum-dumpster..."

She couldn't deny this was exactly what she wanted...she knew her husband better than anyone and knew that denying him was a sure fire way to make sure he took extra time to "punish" her for the time she had wasted keeping him waiting.

Oh no, what a tragedy that would be...

[d1stalker]

Suspension Bridge Effect [Logan Howlett]

Summary: You saved one of the younger mutants during a mission, and now he's obsessed with you, much to Logan's dismay

Warnings: mainly Logan POV, jealousy, cuteness, fem!reader WC: 2.6k - MASTERLIST

----

Logan’s losing it; his thoughts are spiralling to the point where he wonders if he should be locked up.

At least, that’s what he thinks is happening as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You’re standing near the edge of the mansion's garden, laughing softly as the kid—Johnny, a younger teenage mutant—tries to hand you a bouquet of hastily picked flowers. His face is flushed, eyes wide with admiration, and he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy as he looks up at you.

This punk, this moron, this lovesick blockhead, has been glued to your side ever since you saved him during the last mission.

It was supposed to be a standard run-of-the-mill rescue operation, but when things went south, and he was cornered, you swooped in like the hero you are and got him out unscathed. Now, the kid’s been following you around like a lost puppy, trying to win your attention, your approval—your everything. And it’s infuriating.

Logan can feel his hands clench into fists as he watches Johnny offer you the worst attempt at a bouquet he's ever seen, and sees the youngster's face turning a deeper shade of red as he mumbles something the older man can’t quite hear. Probably some dumb compliment, he thinks bitterly. The kid’s got no game.

You smile at Johnny. It's that soft, kind smile that always makes Logan’s heart skip a beat. But this time, all it does is fuel the fire raging within. He knows that smile isn’t just for him, but damn it, he wishes it were.

He wishes you’d tell the kid to scram, that you’re already spoken for, that you have a lovely boyfriend who could put together a way better bunch of flowers, but instead, you take the flowers with a gentle laugh, thanking the goblin like he’s just handed you a priceless treasure.

And somehow, the torment is never ending, it seems. Because later in the day he find’s himself lurking at the doorway of the mansion library, watching as you and Johnny sit together, heads bent over some book he know knows the little gremlin is just pretending to be interested in. That brat is soaking up every second of your attention, hanging on your every word, and it’s driving Logan up the wall.

“He’s just a kid,” you keep saying whenever he grumbles about it, but you don’t see it. You don’t see the way the bastard’s eyes light up whenever you smile at him, or how he leans in just a little too close when you’re explaining something to him. You don’t notice the small touches—the way his hand lingers on your arm when he’s pulling you somewhere, the way he looks at you like you’re the centre of his universe.

Logan sees it all, because he’s been there before. He knows exactly what Johnny’s feeling because he felt the same way when he first met you. Still does. It's that intense, all-consuming crush that makes you do stupid things just to be near the person you can’t stop thinking about.

“Logan, you’re staring,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns to see her smirking at him from across the hallway.

“I’m not starin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’re jealous.”

He scowls at her. “I ain’t jealous of some kid.”

“Sure you’re not,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?”

Clenching his jaw, he knows she’s right but not wanting to admit it. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks it’s cute.”

“Maybe if you told her how you’re feeling, she’d understand,” Jean suggests gently, though there’s a knowing look in her eyes.

Huffing and turning away from the library, Logan has decided that he’s had enough of standing on the sidelines. He needs to do something before he loses his mind entirely. But it seems he can’t escape this torture, because he can’t even get five minutes alone with you.

He tried to get your attention after you finished up teaching your class, but before he could, the little devil ran in front of him and got it first. His eye twitches as he watches Johnny offer you another “gift,” this time a poorly folded paper crane. You take it with a smile, thanking him kindly, and Logan grits his teeth so hard he swears his molars might shatter.

“Hey, kid,” He grumbles, stepping forward with a growl in his throat that would send most people running. “Don’t you got somewhere else to be?”

Johnny looks up, momentarily startled by the sharp tone, but then just gives a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. “Uh, no, sir. I was just, um, hanging out with her.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got things to do. Don’t you, darlin’?” Logan’s eyes flicker to you, hoping you’ll catch the hint and send the kid on his way.

But you don’t. You just laugh. A musical sound that makes him want to clamp his hand over your mouth because why should that devil's spawn get to hear your beautiful voice? He’s truly about to lose it. 

“It’s fine, babe. Johnny’s just being sweet.”

Sweet. Logan wants to snort. Sweet is one word for it. Obnoxious, irritating, and clingy are a few others that come to mind.

“You got a crush or somethin’, boy?” His tone is laced with a dangerous edge as he crosses his arms over his chest, towering over the knucklehead. He’s trying not to outright scare him, but damn, he’s close to it.

Johnny turns beet red, stammering, “N-no, I just… she saved me, and I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all!”

Narrowing his eyes, a low snarl rumbles from his chest, and Logan takes a deliberate step forward, but before he can do more, you place a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

“Logan, that’s enough,” you say firmly, giving him a pointed look. 

Well, there goes another piece of his sanity.

You’re too kind, too understanding. You just don't get it. To you, it’s just an innocent crush, something harmless, something that makes you smile. You think it’s nothing, and that only makes his blood boil more.

“Fine,” he finally mutters, stepping back, though his eyes never leave the teenager’s. Johnny seems to take that as some kind of begrudging acceptance and gives you another shy smile before scurrying off, likely to find the next token of his gratitude to bring to you.

Once he’s gone, Logan lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is drivin’ me nuts, you know that?”

You just chuckle again, stepping closer to him and slipping your arms around his waist. “It’s just a phase, I’m sure. He’ll get over it.”

Wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you in close, he feels a little bit better in your embrace, but his eyes still track where Johnny disappeared into the mansion. “He better. ’Cause if he doesn’t, I might lose my damn mind.”

You tilt your head up, kissing his jaw softly. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

He huffs, not wanting to admit it, but the truth is written all over his face. “Maybe a little.”

Smiling, you lean up to kiss him properly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Logan kisses you back, a little more possessively than usual, as if to remind himself that you’re his. And even as you melt into him, he can’t help but keep one eye open, scanning the garden for any sign of that kid returning. He might be crazy, but he’ll be damned if he lets some lovestruck teenager get between him and the woman he loves.

—

The next morning, the mansion is buzzing with its usual activity. You and Logan head to the dining hall for breakfast, with him looking a little more relaxed after a night of holding you close. But the moment you step into the room, he spots a certain demon sitting at a table, eyes locked on you as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.

Groaning under his breath, Logan mutters, “Not again,” before guiding you to a table near the windows, hoping Johnny won’t follow.

You take your seat, smiling up at your boyfriend as he pulls out his chair, and for a brief second, he dares to believe that he might actually get to enjoy a quiet breakfast with you. But just as he’s about to sit down beside you, Johnny swoops in out of nowhere, plopping down in Logan’s seat with a grin like he’s just won the lottery.

“Morning!” He chirps, completely oblivious to the thunderous look on the other man’s face.

Freezing in his place, Logan glares at the kid who’s now sitting where he was supposed to be. He mentally cycles through a list of unflattering nicknames—Useless Idiot, Captain Obnoxious, Motherfu—but none of them seem quite strong enough to capture his current feelings. “You’re in my seat, kid.”

Johnny blinks up at him, feigning innocence. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t see your name on it.”

You can practically see the self-control it takes for Logan not to pick the kid up and toss him across the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, his claws itching to come out, but he holds back. For your sake, and only your sake.

“Johnny,” you start, trying to keep your voice gentle but firm, “you do know he is my boyfriend, right? And even if he wasn’t, I’m a bit too, uh, old for you?”

The young mutant's eyes widen, and for a split second, you think you might have gotten through to him. But then he glances over at Logan, his face scrunching up like he’s just eaten something sour.

“Yeah, but he’s, like, hella old,” The idiot blurts out, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if the mutant standing right there can’t hear every word.

Logan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes as his jaw tightens to the point where you can almost hear his teeth grinding. Hella old? Is this guy serious?

He's dealt with all kinds of enemies—mutants, monsters, government assassins—but nothing, nothing has tested his patience like this hellspawn has been. “What did you just say?” he growls menacingly.

Johnny, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, doesn’t back down. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve got a lot of… uh, experience, you know? And you’re like centuries old. Maybe she needs someone closer to her age.”

That’s the last straw. Logan’s eyes flash with anger and something else—something more vulnerable that you rarely see. A part of him knows the gremlin’s just talking out of his ass, but the words hit a little too close to home, stirring up old insecurities he usually keeps buried deep.

Without another word, he slams his hand down onto the table, the sound echoing through the dining hall like a gunshot. The room falls into stunned silence as he then storms out, his footsteps heavy and his anger radiating off of him in waves. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge the whispers that follow in his wake. He just needs to get away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Logan, wait—” you call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.

You turn back to Johnny, who’s now looking a little less confident and a lot more like he might have made a mistake. Sighing, you lean forward with a serious expression. “You can’t just say things like that. He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s the person I love.”

Looking down at the table, his face falls, and he begins fiddling with the napkin in his lap. “I didn’t mean to make him mad. I just thought—You saved me and I felt something…I thought maybe you’d feel something for me too.”

You soften, reaching out to pat his hand. “Johnny, you’re a sweet kid, but you’ve got to understand that Logan’s the one I’m with, and no one can replace him.”

He nods slowly, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “I get it,” he mumbles. “I just…”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’ll find someone your own age who’s perfect for you. But for now, you need to give us some space, okay?”

Johnny nods again, this time more resolutely. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just… try not to instigate anything else. I’ll go talk to him.” You give him one last reassuring smile before heading toward the exit.

When you step out into the hallway, you barely have a second to process your thoughts and decide where to look before you’re suddenly pressed up against the wall. A gasp escapes your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by Logan’s mouth on yours. The surprise melts away as the intensity of his kiss overtakes your senses, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His kiss is possessive and fierce. You can feel the frustration, the jealousy, the need to claim what’s his, pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against yours. For a moment, you lose yourself in the heat of it, letting the world around you fade as you focus solely on him.

Then, through the haze of the kiss, the practical part of your brain kicks in. You pull back just enough to murmur against his lips, “Logan… we’re gonna get caught.”

He growls softly, his lips trailing down to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Let them see,” he mutters between kisses. “Maybe then that damn dunce will get the hint.”

You laugh, though the sound is cut off as he captures your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid to let go. “Babe, really,” you whisper, trying to sound serious but failing as your body responds eagerly to his touch. “People are gonna see…”

“I don’t care,” he grumbles, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you involuntarily shiver against him. “Shoulda thrown that little shit out on his ass… let him know who you belong to.”

“You’re jealous of a teenager,” you tease, though the words come out breathless and almost lost in the intensity of the moment.

Logan pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark. “Don’t like him sniffin’ around you, thinkin’ he’s got a shot.”

You smile up at him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him back down for another kiss. “You don't need to feel threatened by him. You’re the only one I want.”

He huffs softly, his lips brushing against yours as he mutters, “Damn right I am.”

“C’mon,” you murmur, gently pushing against his chest. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, huh?”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering back toward the dining hall, as if half-expecting Johnny to come barreling out any second. But then he nods, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway, away from prying eyes. His grip on your hand is tight, territorial, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him.

As you walk together, you give his hand a squeeze. “Logan?”

“Yeah?” He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly.

“I love you, you know that?” You say it with that pretty grin of yours, and the way his eyes warm in response makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “I love you too.”

The remaining tension melts away, leaving just the two of you walking hand in hand, ready to steal a few more precious moments together.

----

A/N: this was really fun to write!

[rafesproperty]

Rafe Cameron x Shy GF <3

Rafe Cameron x Reader + a little platonic Barry x Reader cuz I just love Barry

Soo Rafe is an ESTP, which is probably the most outgoing personality type and they get along with introverts pretty well. Rafe would so adore his shy girl who’s just so dependent on him for everything. Luckily he’s always got you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Topper and Kelce didn’t really understand why would Rafe date you out of all people. You were always quiet, never speaking up, never showing up to parties, and if you did you’d stay glued to your friends' sides and never really speak to anyone.

It baffled them, actually.

But neither Topper or Kelce actually knew Rafe. He didn’t need a wild fire on top of his own messy chaos of a life. He needed the calmness. He didn’t need a girl who’d party her night away and dance with everyone and leave him hangin’ alone. He needed someone who’d be glued to his side, tug at his sleeve and beg for him to stay there and shield her with his body.

He needed someone he could just keep on his lap when he did lines and talked to people, and you'd just stay there, like an obedient scared puppy, playing with his fingers.

He didn’t need a girl that would be outgoing, speak up for herself, independent, talkative with other people. He enjoyed speaking up for you, ordering your food, picking your deliveries up, giving you rides everywhere because you hated public transport, holding you close to him, knowing feeling that you physically desperately need him everywhere with you. Even if you wanted ice cream that was sold two blocks down the street you'd ask him if he'd join you. Call him selfish, but he loves to be the one you constantly need and hide behind. He is obsessed with it. Always ready to provide and protect his girl.

And it’s not like you were like that all the time. The second you two were alone in his car, house or just away from everyone else you were joking around, dancing with him, calling him mocking nicknames like dude, bro, dummy, or the more intimate ones like baby, Rafey, my sweet boy, you'd jokingly call him my husband, my man, my love (all of these worked him up and you knew it), you’d tease the fuck out of him, crawling into his lap like a desperate bitch, grinding on him because you needed him right now. Pulling him in to kiss him. And God, he loved it. To be the only one to see this side of yours.

You were so polite to everyone too, always saying please and thank you in the quietest voice with a blush on your cheeks, but he knew you could be a loud, moaning, dirty mess under him. He knew you could ride him through multiple orgasms with zero shame. Only he knew you rocked your hips desperately against his mouth and squeezed your legs around his head to keep him there. Only he knew you'd get down on your knees and do absolutely everything for him.

You've met Barry a few times whenever Rafe needed cocaine from him and couldn't wait, he'd just drag you along and tell you to stay in the car. But the wait eventually got long and you followed after him.

Barry immediately offered you drugs and Rafe almost broke his face... but this little incident aside you actually clicked with Barry immediately. He wouldn't even let you speak, he just talked away, spilling info and gossip about Rafe as if he wasn't just standing right there.

"Ah shit, and you like this j-crew lookin' ass?" You giggled. "Yeah, I do," you gave Rafe a smile. "A lot."

You and Barry became friends. Rafe wouldn't let you hang out with him alone but the three of you actually hung out a lot at Barrys. He quickly understood how shy you are and he maybe had a little soft spot for you too, keeping an eye on you in public whenever Rafe needed to take care of something quickly.

You were getting a drink with Rafe at the Country Club, Topper and Kelce were there too, when Barry pulled up on his bike and made his way over to the two of you, ignoring all the Kooks that gave him dirty looks.

"Country Cluuuuub princessssss," he yelled in his accent and made his way over to you, "what's good with you girl?" He chuckled as you two did a quick handshake you've taught him.

Rafe rolled his eyes and immediately threw his arm around your shoulders in a protective manner.

Topper and Kelce stared in awe. You, who barely spoke any words to them, were all of a sudden buddies with the drug dealer?

[dollfacefantasy]

I WANNA BE YOURS ♡

pairing: logan howlett x puppy-hybrid!fem!reader

summary: logan finds you, a special kind of mutant, out on a mission. when he takes in this puppy girl, you quickly forms a bond to him. he tries to tell himself he doesn't like his new shadow or want the attention, but it gets harder to deny as the two of you grow closer.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), hybrids, breeding kink, praise kink, dumbification, fluff, canon-typical violence, blood, nightmares

a/n: thank you so much to @gor3-hound and @nexysworld for beta reading <33

Adamantium strains against the skin between Logan's knuckles as his fists collide with his opponents' bodies. His claws beg to come out, to slice through his own skin and into the men he's striking. Despite causing himself pain, it would make this little struggle easier.

Regardless, he reigns in the urge and continues to fight without them. He didn't need them yet. Having a skeleton of impenetrable metal served as the only weapon he needed for right now. These guys taking him on weren't anything special, simple lackeys hired to protect a facility they didn't even understand the operation of.

His unpierced knuckles land a few strikes to one's abdomen, and he pops the other's face with his elbow. He whips his forearm around and slams the first to the ground in a finishing blow. The other man comes crashing down close behind after he connects his fist with the center of his face.

He looks at both of them crumpled up and unconscious on the ground, shaking off the adrenaline from the scuffle with a few rolls of his shoulders. He swipes the set of keys that hang off the belt of one who went down first and reconvenes with the rest of the team at the point of entrance to the next part of this warehouse.

"Did you find a way to open the doors?" Storm asks him. The white-haired woman struts beside him to the large cement doors at the end of the hallway.

Logan holds up the set of metallic keys, giving them a little jingle as his answer.

"Wow, and without shedding any blood. Impressive," Cyclops mocks from behind. Him and Jean walk a couple paces to the back of him, their eyes scanning for any potential hindrances to the mission.

"Night's not over yet, bub."

The four of them reach the door, and fortunately, it only takes a few tests to determine which key is meant for this lock. Before either Logan or Storm can push the barrier open, the door swings back under the force of Jean's telepathy.

They head inside but brace themselves for what they might see. This mission came about after the professor discovered that this building was being used as some kind of location to traffic mutants. The team had dealt with cases like this before, and they were never pretty. Often, the victims were young and struggling, picked up off the street or gathered from false mutant shelters to be sold into a life of experimentation or fetishization.

Upon first glance, this section of the building holds nothing new. The room isn't large in comparison to the others before it and looks more like a connector between the last hallway and another one. It's dark, not much light to get a good look at anything that could be hiding away.

Storm is eager to keep moving along and guides them towards the entrance to the next hallway. His other two teammates overtake him as well and follow behind her.

"I'm gonna sniff around here for a minute. I'll be right behind you," Logan says and waves them forward.

The two women spare him a skeptic glance, but Scott couldn't be more eager to part from him. They head off in the other direction, leaving Logan alone in the quiet between these four walls.

He just wanted to be sure there was nothing here, whether it be something he could help or something meaning to do them harm. Though he kind of hoped it was the latter. He never felt very good at the 'saving' part of being on this team. Let him go in a room full of threats, and he was guaranteed to be successful. He'd take every last one down in record time and not even have to think twice about it. But give him one person to comfort and tell that everything is gonna be ok, and that would have him breaking a sweat. It's not that he couldn't do it; he simply had to work at it. He didn't have to work at being a weapon.

Treading over the pavement cautiously, Logan's eyes sweep over the few vacant shelves and lonely crates. The room truly seemed unoccupied. He could probably only justify a few more feet before having to go join the rest of the team. But then he sees it.

A cage towards the back of the room, a tarp over the top. It sat near a smaller door he hadn't noticed before. He wasn't too concerned with going in just yet. First he wanted to see if anything was confined behind those thin black bars.

It was larger than a simple pet kennel but too small to give the impression that held anything monstrous. He walks closer to it. No sound came from it nor could he see any movement, but his curiosity had been triggered. He had to know why this thing had been secluded.

Once he's close enough, he crouches down and pushes away the rough white material draped over it. His fingers undo the latch and open the door so he could get a better look inside.

He peers in and is met with a pair of eyes staring back at him out of the darkness. His first instinct is to back up and get into a defensive position, but whatever's inside doesn't give him the chance.

You lunge at him and knock him flat onto his back.

He hits the cement with a grunt, and his claws cry out to him again. He could easily unsheathe them and tear whatever you were to shreds. But before he does this, he realizes that this isn't an attack. He's not in any kind of pain. In fact, nothing is really happening to him. All you were doing was... sniffing him?

He could hear your rapid inhales and exhales as your nose trailed along the collar of his white tank top. Straining his neck back as much as he can, he finally gets a good look at you. You were human - smaller than most with wide, curious eyes - but you also had floppy ears erupting from your scalp and a long tail coming from your backside that was whipping back and forth.

Even with all the different kinds of mutants he'd seen, he couldn't help thinking this was bizarre at first glance. He knew it was possible for mutations to express physically even though most were internal. For god's sake he had literal claws and knew multiple people who were straight up blue. But he'd never seen anything like this.

You looked like just a mix of canine and human. In honesty, you were pretty cute. You didn't look like the type of thing someone would shout 'freak' at from across the street. Hybrid was probably a more accurate descriptor than mutant. Either way, he didn't want you on top of him.

"Quit it," he growls before grabbing your waist and pushing you off. Based on the fact that you weren't attacking, he assumes you're a victim rather than a perpetrator. He rises to his feet to stand above you, ready to fight just in case. "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

You sit there, tail still wagging despite his rough temperament. Your eyes have that gleam that likens your appearance to a puppy even more than your ears or tail do. He realizes you might not be able to talk or something, but he doesn't get too far with that thought before you speak.

"A mutant. Like you."

His eyes narrow.

"Yeah? How do you know I'm a mutant?" he asks. He hadn't shown you his claws and you hadn't seen his skin magically stitch itself back together. Maybe you were on the other side of this mission.

"I can smell it," you answer.

That makes his eyebrow slowly raise. "Smell it?" he says.

You nod. "Mutants smell different than humans," you say.

You rise to your feet and stand next to him. Leaning in again, you smell his arm. Your head moves down his bicep and to his elbow and forearm. He pulls his limb away with a scowl, but you'd already had a chance to register the scent that'd caught your attention.

"You smell metallic too," you say.

So your canine traits weren't just physical. Logan knew you weren't lying, having an enhanced olfaction himself. He'd just never met someone else who also had that ability.

"Your mutation is basically just being an overgrown dog then?" he asks with a bemused expression, "You like playing fetch? Want me to call you a good girl?"

You can't help the automatic twitch in your tail when you hear that phrase, but your expression darkens as if a storm cloud had formed inches above those folded ears. 

"I'm not a dog. If I'm a dog, are you like a robot since you have metal in you?" you huff and cross your arms.

A sharp puff of air comes from his nostrils at your attempted retort. "Robot isn't exactly what they call me."

You grumble and roll your eyes. Your tail had gone still behind you and hung between your legs.

He continues to stare down at you, trying to decide what to do next. Even though you were a mutant, you didn't seem to be a fighter or have any skills that would be useful in combat. He wasn't just going to leave you here, but he didn't know how big a risk it would be to let you tag along.

"What are you doing here? Did someone lock you in that cage, or is that just where you spend your free time?" he asks.

"Someone took me and locked me in there," you say, your pout deepening.

"For how long?"

You shrug. Logan has the urge to roll his eyes just as you did, but he can tell your lack of knowledge is genuine.

"You don't know how long you were in there?" he prompts.

"No. Maybe like... a couple weeks or something. I don't know. It's hard to keep track."

Of course. Just like a puppy, you had a poor concept of time. He shakes his head and rubs his hand over his face. It did look like you'd been captive for a few weeks. You weren't in the best shape and had bruises littering your body. Your clothes were dirty and torn at the hems. As annoying as he found you in the few minutes he'd known you, he knew you didn't deserve this treatment. Locking a cute little thing like you in a cage was plain cruelty.

"Alright. Well what's your name? I'm Logan," he sighs.

You tell him, but just as the last syllable leaves your lips, footsteps burst into the room from the direction of the hallway.

Scott and Jean round the corner, clearly looking for their teammate. Logan turns around to see the new arrivals and relaxes when he recognizes the man in the visor and the redhead beside him. 

"There you are. We thought you took off or something," Scott mocks casually.

He opens his mouth to respond, but the words dissolve when he feels a thud against his back. 

You don’t recognize the people who'd just shown up, so you hide yourself behind the man who found you. Pressing yourself against his back, you cautiously tilt your head to his side to peek at Scott and Jean. Your fingers clutch the fabric of Logan's tank top so tight they threaten to poke little holes in the ribbed material.

"What- what are you doing?" he grunts and tries to look over his shoulder at you. The way you were latched onto him prevented him from turning around fully. He lifts one of his arms to see your eyes scoping out the potential danger in front of him.

"Get- C'mon get off. They're not gonna hurt you," he continues, brushing you off by reaching back and lightly tugging your hair.

You stumble to the side, and he manages to grab your shoulders and walk you in front of him. He holds you there, presenting you to Scott and Jean. The way your ears pin back to your head makes him feel a little guilty about making you confront the strangers so directly, but they weren't gonna do anything to you. Assuming they were gonna rescue you and take you back to Xavier's, you'd have to get used to prying eyes and meeting new people.

Both Scott and Jean look at you curiously, Jean with less confusion than Scott. Clearly, he had a similar thought process to Logan while the woman next to him could sense that you were a mutant and what your abilities were.

"I found her in that cage back there," he explains.

The two of them nod. They take a few more moments to simply observe you before they move closer and ask for your name. You give it just like you had to Logan. They nod again and then begin running through a similar routine of questions. Theirs are more detailed though and manage to coax more information out of you.

Your responses give them a quick little rundown of you. You fit the profile of the people they usually found on these missions. You're young, early 20s, struggling because getting a job was nearly impossible with your ears and tail. You had no family. They'd given you up after your mutation began to manifest. Everyone thinks puppies are cute, but apparently, no one wanted a human child that shared features with them. You'd been taken from the shelter you were staying at like most others who found themselves in this situation.

As you answer each one posed to you, Logan feels you subtly sinking back against him. Your back meets his abdomen like two magnets slowly being pulled together. Despite the annoyed look on his face, he doesn't say anything or pull away.

When the brief interrogation comes to a close, Scott relays to Logan that they had found other victims in another part of the facility. Storm was with them now, guiding them to the extraction point where they'd be taken to safety. The four of you just had to follow along.

Scott and Jean lead the way. Logan follows behind and you trot along beside him. He notices you're staying close to him in particular.

"Did the guys who took you say anything else about why they wanted you?" he asks. The fact that you were kept separate was still lingering in his mind. To him it didn't mean anything good.

You shrug and look up at him. "They didn't really talk to me that much unless they were being mean or spitting at me. Or kicking the cage," you say.

You say it like it's casual, but he can tell it hurts. He knows how it feels to an extent. All mutants do. Not many people will openly talk shit about a guy with metal claws, but the sentiment is still there. The idea that you're inferior. That something is wrong with you. That you don't belong in this life.

He just nods, not knowing much else to offer as comfort. "Did you ever overhear them talking about you? Any reason they wouldn't have put you with the others?"

"I think they wanted to figure out if there was more of me. Or if they could make anymore at least," you say after taking a moment to think, "Cause you know. Guys like the whole puppy thing. Makes me worth more I guess."

He cringes at the ugly picture you paint with those words.

The group of you continues walking, footsteps being the only sound in the hallway. Your tail had started wagging again which makes him feel a little better about not offering anything in terms of reassurance. But when you reach the room where the other victims had been, your tail comes to a halt and droops between your legs.

A party of men is spread throughout the area. They walk around scanning the now empty space, visibly incensed at their captives being freed. You slide yourself against Logan's back again, but you don't try to peek at them like you did with Scott and Jean. It doesn't take much to figure out that these are the ones who kept you in that cage.

They hear the team and you approaching and turn to face you. Despite your efforts to hide, they spot you before you're completely concealed behind the bulk of Logan's muscular frame. The one closest scowls at your attempt.

"I'm guessing the three of you know what happened to the things we had in here?" he says, sarcasm lacing each word.

"You could say that. And those people are long gone by now, so it's probably best you move on," Scott answers. His fingers rise to his temple in preparation to operate his visor.

The men don't seem to be threatened. The amalgamation of them tightens, forming a more crowded cluster.

"Yeah, you're probably right. But you're not leaving with that one," the same one says and gestures to you hiding, "She stays here."

"Not gonna happen, bub," Logan responds so quickly it surprises even himself.

His teammates also look interested in his seeming budding attachment to you, but they know better than to squabble in front of adversaries.

You are the only one the words don't strike in any sort of way, but that's because you didn't totally hear them. You're too busy trembling, hoping with everything you had that Logan wouldn't force you in front of him again and then kick you into the group of guys.

But obviously, that doesn't happen. There's more arguing that you don't hear because you choose to tune it out. You can sense Logan becoming more agitated and the air around everyone becoming more tense. Your body grows more rigid, your ears glued back to your scalp. You just want this to be over.

As these thoughts whirl through your mind, the arguing comes to a head, and Logan launches away from you. You feel naked without his large body shielding yours. 

Scott and Jean aid him. Your first inclination is to turn the other direction and just try to stay out of the way. You weren't confident in your combat skills. If you could seriously fight, you probably wouldn't have gotten snatched up. You didn't want to be the reason any of these people who were trying to help you got hurt.

But then you see someone coming up behind Logan brandishing a knife. It's out of your control, the way your muscles go taut and your lip curls back. You'd only ever been in a real fight once before in your life, and you don't remember feeling this vicious. You spring up behind the man, finding where his shoulder meets his neck and biting down hard.

The cries of agony and grunts of anger seem to go on forever. The smell of blood invades your nostrils as you deal with your target. He'd fallen to the floor when your teeth sunk into his flesh. You feel him thrashing underneath you as you rip and tear, but you don't stop until he's gone still. You then pull off and wipe your mouth, twisting around to sit on the abdomen of your incapacitated enemy.

Logan also had no difficulty dealing with the men coming at him. There were just more of them, so he took a little longer. After one last thud of a body crumpling to the floor, only heavy breathing sounds through the warehouse.

Jean and Scott seem fine. They stand there checking each other over, and you see them share a brief kiss. You glance over towards Logan next and decide to return to his side.

He's alone. The sounds of panting are mostly coming from him. His body glistens, muscles lightly coated in perspiration. His scent is stronger to you now, and it only grows more overwhelming as you approach him. Men lie at his feet with pools of blood around them, presumably the same crimson liquid that stains his hands, wrists, and forearms in streaks.

You make your next move without thinking. Coming up to his side, trying in vain to avoid getting your ratty socks soaked with blood, you press your cheek against his bicep and snake your arms around his.

He then looks down at you. His eyebrows raise at the blood that coats your mouth and chin and trails down your shirt. You hadn't seemed like any type of predator before. Your presence was more akin to a puppy that'd be torn apart by wolves than anything that could do anyone harm.

"How'd you do that?" he asks.

Your finger rises and hooks under your upper lip, pulling it back to reveal your canines, sharper than a normal person's.

He nods and watches you with some mixture of curiosity, irritation, and fondness.

"Pretty good," he says simply.

You beam at the praise, blood-stained lips parting into a wide smile. He feels your tail wag harder and brush against the back of his leg.

The touch is nice. It makes him more conscious of the way you're still holding onto him, your hand curled around his muscle and your hip against his. He's not sure what it is. A silent thank you, a note of understanding, or a pledge of loyalty.

But he doesn't need a thank you, someone to understand him or devote themself to him. He's just doing what he's supposed to.

He slides his arm out of your clutches and gently pats you on the head.

"C'mon, let's get going," he says and starts walking towards the exit.

You trot wordlessly behind him, which he's grateful for. But more than that, he's just happy Scott didn't have anything to say about your sudden bond to him.

Once the jet picked you up from the extraction point, the trip back to the school was a breeze. You mostly keep to yourself while trying to stick close to Logan. He sits you next to him and cleans up your face, but you sleep for most of the actual traveling time to the destination.

You hadn't realized how tired you were until the seat hit your back and the buckles of the seat belt latched over your chest. With that manifestation of security, your eyes began drooping and your head was drifting to your shoulder like it was your center of gravity.

Logan's voice is what wakes you up. It's unclear to you how much time has passed, but that doesn't bother you. You feel him gently jostling you before unbuckling the straps across your chest. He calls your name a few times until your bleary eyes open and focus on his face.

"There you are," he says, "C'mon. We're here."

You still watch him without saying a word. Your hand rubs over your face to try and pull yourself closer to being awake. He watches you before offering his hand.

"I'm not carrying you, so you need to get up," he says in a tone you were becoming familiar with. It sounded irritated but not directly at you. Like this man was just in a constant state of being pissy about something.

You take the offer regardless and let him pull you to your feet. The two of you exit the jet together, him helping you out to ensure you don't trip on the gap between the ramp and the ground.

Once you're out, your eyes widen. You expected a boarding school to be pretty fancy, but this was nicer than any place you'd ever been. The walls stretched up the sky, crafted with bricks and decorated with large glass windows. The path there was paved and bordered with kept plants. You could see beyond that though. The large expanse of the property. So much space to run and do things.

Logan watches your reaction with amusement. "It's a lot to take in when you first get here," he says.

You nod, and your eyes continue to dart around and absorb the sight of everything. Storm and Jean lead the others who were saved off to another part of the building to be reunited with their families or taken back to their lives or even given verifiable resources. But you don't want to go with them.

You grab Logan's hand and look up at him, shaking your head.

His first reaction is to try and pull his hand free of you, but you have a tighter grip than expected. "What? What's the matter?" he asks you while still trying worm his hand out of your finger's lock.

You don't know how to articulate it because what you want is very simple. You want to stay with him. You want to stay here. You don't want to go back out to the world where people point and laugh at you or turn you away from everything. You just don't know how to say that without it seeming weird.

Luckily for you, Scott gives you a bit of help. You're not sure if that's his intention or not, but either way, you're grateful for the help.

"Maybe we should take her to the Professor. He might want to see about her mutation or ask her about that stuff back there," he tells Logan. You can tell from the way Scott speaks that he doesn't really like him too much.

Logan thinks about it for a moment before nodding. Before leading you there, he uses his other hand to pry your fingers off of him. You frown at the loss of connection and shoot him a glare. That brings an actual smile to his face.

"Follow along, pup. Don't need you getting lost," he says as he turns to guide you down the halls of the school.

The sun hadn't even risen, so not too many people occupied the common rooms. You catch sight of a few. They stare back at you, but unlike what you're used to, they don't look at you with disdain or mocking. It's simple, innocent curiosity. The only thing that seems to worry them is the bright red stain going down the front of your shirt.

Inside the room had been an older guy in a wheelchair. The professor talked the nicest out of all the men you'd been around today. When he looked at you, you felt like he understood you. He didn't even seem perplexed like Scott or Logan had. He'd merely said you were "interesting."

He talked to you for a while. He asked similar questions similar to the ones you already answered, but the third round of them got even deeper than the last two. Once he revealed that he could enter your thoughts if he wanted, that made a lot of sense.

Though he didn't really need his ability to understand you. Your experiences were written all over your face, practically sewn into the seams of your clothes.

He could see how, like every mutant, you led a life dominated by rejection. But in a different way than most others of your kind, you were vaguely familiar. Seeing someone with a tongue ten feet long or with blue skin or claws was jarring. It was weird.

But you - you look like a cute puppy. You walk the line between disturbing and endearing.

Charles can also see how you long for belonging even deeper than most. It's as if your mutation gives you the drive to seek out affection, for someone to devote yourself to. He can tell this by the way you linger around Logan.

If he moved an inch, you followed in the same direction. If he looked away, your eyes followed along. You were only settled if he was looking at you, not in danger of leaving your vicinity.

After talking to you for a while, hearing about your abilities and getting to understand your personality, he offers to let you stay at the school. He tells you it might be beneficial for you, and if you don't like it, you're welcome to leave anytime. It's only meant to give you a chance to understand your gifts and learn to control them and use them for good.

Of course, you accept. It wasn't even a question.

"Wonderful. Scott, show her to the extra rooms she can stay in and the shower so she can clean up a bit," Charles says. He watches as your eyes flit to Logan and then Scott. He also sees Scott's uncertainty as to why he was given this job.

But he nods and gestures for you to follow him, which you reluctantly do.

You trail him silently up the stairs, and he gives you a little guide to where everything is. He gestures at the direction of the student wing and the staff wing and then takes you to the latter. He points out the different bedrooms and grabs you a change of clothes on the way to the bathrooms.

He's nice to you. A little stiff, but he still smiles and laughs softly at quips he makes or your skeptical reactions to things. You want to ask him about his sunglasses, but you figure that'd be rude so you refrain. When he leaves you at the bathroom door, he tells you to just call if you need anything cause he's right down the hall.

Stepping inside, you peer around the expansive room. You'd never seen a bathroom so large. It was nice like everything else was in this place. The counter was spotless and smooth. The tile was sleek with a soft mat beneath your feet at the door and waiting for you in front of the shower.

You undress yourself quickly and turn on the water, waiting for it to heat before stepping inside. There's some products on the shelf inside that you use. You lather the soap on your hands and rub it over yourself fast. It felt really good, especially since you hadn't had a proper shower while being held captive. But you still work at a sped up pace. Although the novelty of everything had impressed you at first, you were beginning to yearn to be by Logan again. It wasn't a need that would make you lose control, just a little itch like a bug crawling up the path of your veins.

Downstairs, Charles kept Logan behind in his office so the two could talk. They briefly recap the mission before moving to the subject that was the true reason for the extended conversation.

"It seems she's quite taken with you," the older man starts simply.

"I guess," Logan responds, his voice unamused with the idea.

Charles huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He goes to say something else, but the other man carries on the conversation himself.

"She'll get over it. She's like a little duck following around the first person she sees," he says and crosses his arms.

"I think you underestimate her intelligence, Logan. She's not a helpless animal-"

"I know that," he interjects quickly.

"She's one of us. She's formed an attachment to you for whatever reason. I would like her to stay here for at least for a little while to examine the traits of her mutation. I've never seen any that so closely mimic an already existing animal," he explains, "But I want to know that you're ok with that."

Logan scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be? That doesn't have anything to do with me."

"While she's here, she's most likely going to want to be around you. I just wanted to make sure that's not something you're wholly uncomfortable with."

"Please. I can handle it," he dismisses.

Charles watches him, ever-entertained by how hard he tries to present the idea that he's unaffected. 

"If you say so," he says, "Just try not to scare off too quickly."

"I'll play nice," he says.

A few more words, and he's dismissed. He turns on his heel and heads out the same doors he entered. Just as he does, you glide down the stairs into his field of vision, tail wagging lazily behind you over the waistband of the sweats Scott gave you.

When you see him, it swishes a bit faster and your ears perk up. His eyes narrow.

"What are you doing down here? Didn't Scott show you where to go?" he asks.

You nod and prance down the remaining steps. Truthfully, you'd been seeking the man before your eyes, but you couldn't just say that.

"Am I not allowed to look around?" you ask.

His eyes remain hard on your face. "Aren't you tired? Mauling that guy didn't take anything out of you?"

A subtle pout forms on your lips, and you consider retreating back to the bedroom you'd been given. He clearly wasn't in the mood for you right now.

Logan sees the reaction his words brought on. He feels that little sliver of guilt shifting around inside him. Maybe his phrasing hadn't been the best... but then again why did he give a shit?

"How about we just get you back to bed? I'll show you around more tomorrow," he suggests.

You take what you can get and nod, your features slightly elevating at the form of peace he offers you. He retraces your steps up the stairs and down the hall with you on his heels. He spots the room Scott had picked for you. The door was ajar from how you'd left it to go find him.

He leads you inside but remains in the doorway himself. There really wasn't any reason to stay, so he should probably be leaving...

"Have you been here a long time?" you ask suddenly.

His eyes land on you again. You were perched on the end of your bed that was still fully made up, the comforter tucked in and everything.

"What?" he asks.

"Have you been here long? Scott said he's been here since he was a teenager," you say.

"Oh. No. Only a little while," he says. "I'm still pretty new here too."

That makes you happy, it's obvious from the hope that gleams in your eyes. "Are you like a teacher too? Or... something else?"

"What would that something else be?" he asks with a smirk, taking a few steps into the room with you, "Having a hard time picturing me teaching?"

"Well I just mean-" you try to justify before laughing a little, giving in, "Yeah. I can't really see it."

"Me neither. I'm not a teacher. I just help out sometimes," he says.

He walks even closer to you, causing your head to tilt up to look at him. Now you really looked like a puppy.

This close, he was all you could smell. You could see every individual hair on his forearm. It felt as though you could hear the strong beat of his heart. His eyes pierced into you from above, and you wondered if he was observing you in a similar manner.

"You gonna sleep on top of these blankets?" he asks.

The mention of something else besides him snaps you out of your little Logan-centric daze. You look around at the bedding and then back up at his head. The two styled points of dark hair look like he has two ears of his own mirroring yours.

"No. I'll fix them," you say and stand up to tug them free, "I don't need you to tuck me in."

"I wasn't offering to. I just don't want you getting up and trying to 'look around' again. Don't need you getting lost and wandering to my bed."

The idea brings heat to your cheeks and neck. It sounded nice for so many reasons. But the bed you had now outmatched the hard bottom of the cage you'd been sleeping on, so you weren't going to try and swing for more.

Once the comforter and sheets are peeled down, you climb back on the bed and sit against the pillows. There's a small pause. A puddle of silence pooling between the two of you. You don't know what else to ask, but you feel if you don't say anything he's gonna leave. So you pull out the first thing you can think of.

"What is your actual mutation?"

His brows rise with interest, and he closes the gap between you by sitting on the edge of your bed. Curiosity shines from his eyes onto you, silently questioning why you wanted to know.

"I know you're not actually a robot, but I can still smell the metal and stuff. What does it do?" you ask.

"The metal isn't my mutation," he says.

He raises his fist about a foot away from your face. His fingers are balled up tight against his hand. You cock your head, wondering what he's showing you.

Before you can ask any questions though, three shining metal claws emerge from between his knuckles. They come out slowly, a pace prolonged enough to be considered teasing. Your eyes widen at the sharp points and you scoot back, smooshing the pillows against your head board. All you can wonder is if he didn't take them out earlier or if you really had missed something so monumental.

His laugh rises in volume. "Relax, I'm not gonna cut you."

The claws come to a halt when fully extended. You wait just in case something else is going to happen, but nothing does. You bring your finger up and poke at the hard surface. They were so beautiful but unnatural too. You'd never seen anything like them.

"But I didn't see anywhere for them to come out?" you say softly.

He flexes his hand and extends his fingers, retracting the claws much quicker than they appeared.

"There is no place for them to come out of," he says and offers you his hand.

You frown at the little cuts the sharp rods left in their wake, but like little zippers, they close up. You blink at his hand. All evidence of his mutation was gone.

"So you can heal? And you have claws?" you say more to yourself than him, "Does it still hurt when they come out?"

He nods and watches you examine his hand.

Upon seeing his confirmation, you can't even help what you do next. You pull his limb a little closer and kiss each spot where a claw had emerged. Every phantom cut gets a soft smooch left where it would soon reappear.

"What are you doing?" Logan asks, her arm tensing up on instinct.

You glance at his face before releasing his hand. "Oh... sorry," you say and shrug sheepishly.

To your surprise, he doesn't scold or chastise you, doesn't get up to leave in a hurry. He simply pulls his hand back and gives you another look before saying good night.

"Get some good sleep. Like I said, I'll show you around tomorrow," he says.

You slip down in the bed, resting your head on the plush pillows and pulling the blanket up over your form. He heads out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

A deep exhale leaves his lungs. He shakes some of that tension loose. What had he been doing? It almost felt like some different person had taken over him in there. Another version of himself that didn't have to be reminded to 'play nice.'

The few weeks you're supposed to stay at the school stretches out into a longer timeframe. It'd now been a few months since that day he found you in the cage and set you free. Though that month or so you'd spent locked up turned out to be worth it because you now had a place that made you happier than anywhere you'd lived before. You had a family.

You had Jean and Storm who were helping you train so you could one day go on missions with them. You had the Professor who taught you more about yourself than you had ever thought to ask. Scott was there too.

And of course, you had Logan.

Logan. As much as he tried to seem reluctant, to appear uncaring and nonchalant, he had grown to enjoy your company more with each passing day that you followed him like a shadow.

It was irritating at first. Before, he'd been able to drift through the school relatively unnoticed. Now, every single place he went, he was trailed by whoosh whoosh whoosh. The sound of your tail going back and forth. Anything he tried to do was accompanied by the feeling of two glimmering eyes trained on him. He'd tried to brush you off, but you didn't waver.

"Don't you have anything better to do than stalk me?" he'd ask, shooting a side eye your way.

"No," you'd respond.

"Well, find something."

"I don't wanna."

And who was he to argue with that?

In a way, the bond you seemed to have formed with him was flattering. It seemed like he could do anything, and you'd never view him as anything but the greatest creation to grace this earth. So he just lets you follow him around. He assumes after a while, you'll see him for what he is and lose interest, or you'll just grow bored of him and find something else to be the object of your obsession. Though so far that day hadn't come.

After a while of you always at his side, he started to cave and include you in his little routines.

One day he was doing sit ups at the foot of his bed while you sat nearby. His body rose and fell, abdomen kissing his thighs in regular intervals. But every time he came up, he found himself looking over at you.

"Hey, pup," he said, the nickname he developed for you coming out effortlessly, "C'mere for a second."

Your ears perked up. You weren't usually involved in what he was doing. You scoot over to him and kneel at his feet, awaiting a command. You could be so obedient sometimes it nearly made him feel guilty.

"You wanna help me with something?" he asked. As he expected, you nodded right away, so he continued, "Just hold my feet down. These only work if your feet stay flat. So just make sure they do."

You gave him another dutiful nod and got in position. Your hands held his feet down as he worked out just like he asked. Each time he came up off the ground, you looked at him with a big goofy smile.

That was just the first thing. From then on, the two of you actually did stuff together rather than just going about your things nearby one another. He'd help you train, and you'd help him clean Scott's bike when he finished using it.

Tonight, exhaustion aches in your bones after running around all day. On top of that, you'd had so much stuff to do yourself that you'd barely even seen Logan all day.

When the sun's finally down and the students have all retired to their bedrooms, you find him in the living room. He's leaned back into the couch, nursing a bottle of something. You assume it's not beer since you're at a school, but with how often he lamented about that limitation, you wouldn't put it past him to sneak one in.

You hop over the arm rest and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from him. He looks over at you, not displeased with your presence.

"There you are. I thought you finally got tired of me and found someone else to bother," he teases.

"I could never do that," you reply with the same playful cadence. You scoot a little closer. "I was just super busy today. The Professor was having me talk to some of the students, and then Scott needed me to grab something for him from the shed. It was really hard to find, so it took a while. Then I had to do my own training, and Jean made me try on some sizes for my suit..."

As you chatter on about your day, Logan finds himself nodding along, even occasionally reacting to what you say. He's not rolling his eyes or telling you to leave him alone. It's weird, but he can't say he wants to feel differently.

"Sounds like they're working you like a dog," he says when your story has reached an end.

Your face darkens like it had on the day he met you, shooting him a quick glare as a reminder not to say the forbidden d-word.

"Right, sorry," he corrects, "It just sounds like they're running you ragged. Don't let 'em work you too hard. Scott can get his own shit."

He still didn't understand your hang up about that word. He could call you pup, puppy, or any variation of that, and you'd react with nothing but joy. But utter d-o-g in your vicinity, and he felt like he was at risk of getting his throat chomped on. Luckily, it only takes his small apology for your normal demeanor to make its return.

"It's ok. I don't mind helping. I like having stuff to do," you say and shrug.

"I thought your 'stuff to do' was watching over me," he jokes and leans forward, placing his bottle down on the table.

You're not sure why, but you take that as an invitation to scoot even closer to him.

"I thought you wanted me to find better stuff to do."

"Fair," he chuckles, "Maybe this is one of those things where I'm not gonna realize I miss something until it's gone."

He brings his hand up from the back of the couch to massage the base of one of your ears. The soft fluff feels almost luxurious against the rough pads of his finger tips. He knew you loved the sensation. It had been an accidental discovery, something he did one time as a joke. But the way you melted into the touch had been more than just funny to him.

You lean into it now and nuzzle his palm.

"It was just one day. It's not like a permanent new routine."

"For now. Then soon enough, I'm gonna catch you trailing somebody else with hearts in your eyes," he says and gently tugs your ear.

You laugh at the tug and the stupid words. "You will not. Plus, I don't have hearts in my eyes for you."

"Oh really?" he teases. He leans in, his face hovering a couple inches away from yours. "I think I can see some now."

The two of you stay locked in a stare for a few lingering seconds. He'd never been this close to you before. You'd never heard his voice lower in that way, sounding almost desiring. Heat starts to crawl up from your belly through your chest to your neck. Before it can reach your cheeks, you turn your head to face the tv.

"Shut up," you huff, choosing to play the interaction off as a joke.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his grin. He chuckles and his arm returns to its place behind you, above your shoulders. Quiet blooms between the two of you, kept from being total silence only by the hushed noises of the tv set across the room. It doesn't feel awkward though even with the sudden shyness he'd brought over you.

You angle yourself and lean in so that you're sitting against his side. No words come from him, he simply lowers his arm to sling around your shoulders and keep you there. His thumb idly pets back and forth over the smooth skin of your forearm.

The heat of his body radiates from his side and into you. Makes you feel safe and comfortable. Like you're where you're supposed to be. It's easy to sink into him further and tilt your head to rest on his chest. Before long, your eyes feel a little droopy. Blinking feels sticky, and your mind just wants to retreat to the soft embrace of sleep.

Logan can tell. He's not sure of the feeling this knowledge brings him. Pride? Contentment? Affection? Instead of thinking about it harder, he just pulls you a little closer and lets you drift off. He considers saying something, letting you know he doesn't mind and that you don't have to try and stay up. But nothing comes from him and the quiet continues.

He watches you slowly slip away. Your neck loses the wherewithal to stay upright, and your breaths soften, blowing in and out in a thoughtless rhythm.

The feeling that flows through him takes him by surprise. Pure endearment towards you, not a hint of anything else. He lets you sleep there for the next hour or so. When you're still out cold after that time has passed, he's unsure of his next move. He doesn't want to wake you and shatter the peace that had settled over the room, but he had to head to bed himself and wasn't going to leave you stranded on the couch in the common room.

The light of the tv glows across the two of you as he mulls over his options. When he finally decides, he grabs the remote and shuts the device off, cloaking the room in darkness, spare the distant blinking lights that could be seen through the windows. He rises from the cushions that had molded to cradle his weight, making sure to keep a hand on you to prevent you from slumping over.

This time he doesn't shake you or offer a hand. He reaches around and tucks an arm under your legs. His other supports you across your shoulder blades as he lifts you into his arms. He traverses the furniture with caution, making sure to avoid bumping into a stray corner or tripping on a catch in the rug. Then he moves up the stairs. Your limp body bounces with each step.

He nudges the door open to your bedroom and takes you inside. Your scent seemed to fill the entire room. Every time he took a breath, he got a lungful of the heady smell. Your bedroom was so you now. The way you'd decorated it and splashed your personality over every inch, it'd be hard to believe that just a few months ago it had been so sparse.

What had been a blank bed, covered only by a plain duvet and thin pillows, now held your extra fluffy cushions, a nest of blankets, and your steadily-growing collection of plushies. Trinkets lined your shelves and tables, and you even displayed a few posters over the walls. It was you, all around him.

He walks the few paces to the edge of the mattress before laying your body down on the foamy surface. He drapes a nearby blanket over your form. Even though he's technically accomplished what he meant to, he doesn't leave yet. He lingers like he can't seem to help doing around you.

You're still fast asleep, unaware of the change in locations. He watches a haphazard swallow move through your throat before you settle into the familiar setting.

He finds himself not wanting to go back to his room. He'd been at the school longer than you and never made his own so nice. Really, he didn't think he could make it as nice. But that was just because nothing about him was as nice as you.

When the resolve to leave finally surfaces in him, he reaches out and rubs the base of your ear.

"See you in the morning," he murmurs. Unlike before, the rest of what he wants to say doesn't get tangled up in his throat. "My little puppy girl."

That night won't leave your head for the next week. It almost feels like a dream. You'd woken up in your bed the next morning, assuming that's what it was. The undeniable change in location was the only thing that made your mind accept it as reality.

In the following days, things stayed the same for the most part, though you would have sworn, Logan acted a little less grumpy around you. Only by a microscopic degree, but enough for you to note the shift.

Nothing that big happens though. You don't even repeat the cuddling incident again. You kind of just assume that it was a one time thing. A nice experience, but not one to be repeated.

The memory of it floats through your mind often though. The pulse of his heart beating against your cheek, how you could hear it in your ear clear as day. Your stomach flutters at the thought of him actively pulling you closer, wanting you that close. You can feel your dedication to Logan blossoming into something more. It was already rooted so deep inside you that you didn't think it was possible, but you could feel it. The branches of reverence spreading in your chest and growing into something closer to adoration.

You could feel it now, sitting next to him on the bench in the school's spacious yard. He'd been tasked with watching some of the students for the afternoon, so of course, you tagged along. Shade speckled his face with alternating blotches of sunlight and gray. The stray beams of light made his eyes glow, and his hair shine all pretty. The sounds of the students practicing their abilities clouds the background of your focus, and they become even more distant when he suddenly turns to you.

"You're staring," he teases with that little smirk of his.

Your eyes flutter at the accusation. "No... I was not."

"Yeah you were. Even worse than usual."

"I just was thinking and zoned out," you defend, turning to face forward.

He hums in acknowledgement, obviously not believing your excuse. "Were you thinking about me?"

"You wish."

"I don't have to wish, puppy. You're not a very good liar."

You really weren't. Your tail swished with each beat of this little back and forth. Your ears pinned back to your head, folded over by the guilt of being caught. Everything you were feeling was made apparent by your supposed 'gifts.'

"Well whatever. Even if I was, it's none of your business," you say. A smile pulls at your lips. Your tells weren't solely from your mutation.

"If you say so," he taunts, one last jab before he returns his attention to the kids he was supposed to be supervising.

Nothing he said hinted at anything more than playful banter, but the way he spoke had them wrapped around your heart like unbreakable restraints. The way he said them made you feel like he wanted it this way. Wanted you to hear that smug cadence in your mind for the next few days. Maybe he found you entertaining. Maybe your emotions were a new game he discovered he liked to play with.

Hours later, you're curled up in your bed, by yourself as per usual. Everyone in the school had gone to bed, you and Logan had parted a while ago yourselves. 

Sleep weighs you down to the mattress, but your ears perk up automatically when they register a distant sound of distress. It's faint. If it happened alone, you would've just assumed it was part of your dream and not done anything else. But more follow it.

Your eyes crack open, still glazed with drowsiness as you come to. You listen for the sounds that disturbed you. For a moment, there's nothing. Just the gentle breeze outside your room and the crickets chirping in the cut grass in the yard.

Then it happens again. A normal person wouldn't be able to hear these sounds. They were reserved for you with your enhanced senses. It sounds like grunting and groaning though you can pick up the pained undertone of fear. The worst part of it to you is that immediately you know it's coming from Logan.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, freeing them from the fleece warmth of your blankets. Padding out of the room, you cross the hall to his. You open the door in the specific way so that it doesn't creak and then shut it behind you. Your feet are gentle on the hardwood as they bring you closer to the source of the noise.

Once you're in, it's no mystery. Logan lays on his back in the center of his bed, shoulders twitching in agitation. He mumbles to himself, different words you can't make out. Your head cocks at the sight.

Approaching the side of his bed, you just watch him for a few more moments. When he doesn't wake up, you feel the urge to intervene. It felt wrong watching him suffer. Something pulled at your insides to help him.

You reach out and nudge his bicep. There's no effect. You do it a few more times but still nothing happens. Finally, you actually grip his shoulder and shake him gently, whispering into the darkness a simple "Logan."

That wakes him. No mistake about it. He gasps and snaps up. His claws come out from his hands without a second thought and slash at you. You hop back right away, tripping over your own feet and crashing onto the ground.

Your pulse thunders in your ears. The adrenaline coursing through you wasn't so much out of fear but rather confusion. Your mind was still a bit bogged by sleep itself, and at this moment, you're less concerned with Logan's reasoning and more so the logistics of a potential fight with him. Even though you had been training for the past several months, you had absolutely zero belief that you'd be able to beat him in a fight. Or even really compete for that matter.

Fortunately for you, it doesn't come to that. His eyes recognize you not long after his fists took the swing. You watch as his face morphs into a handful of different emotions in the span of about five seconds.

"I- what- how- I didn't-" he starts before getting a handle on his ability to speak, "I'm sorry."

Your body starts to come down from the brief high when it's clear he's not going to attack. You feel less wound up and let out a sigh. Your eyes remain inquisitive while gazing at him though. What did he dream about that made him freak out like that?

You guess it's not the best time to ask, so instead of pushing your luck, you push up off the ground and get your footing back. You step up to him at the edge of the bed and stand between his thighs. You plan on asking him if he's ok, but his arms reach out and yank you to his chest before you have the chance.

His hold is tight on you. The little half-hugs he'd given you a couple times before didn't compare at all. His arms were locked around you like they never intended to let go. You could hear him panting in your ear, and you could feel his heart thundering against both of your rib cages like it wanted to be released from its chamber.

"You're not hurt, are you?" he whispers.

You shake your head and wrap your arms around him too. The gesture relaxes him a lot, you can feel the tension seep away.

"Are you ok? I didn't mean to bother you, you just sounded like you needed help," you say at the same volume.

"You didn't bother me. I'm ok. I'm sorry. You don't have to worry about me like that."

His skin is warm and clammy against your own. You gently pat his back as some form of silent reassurance. Even if he wasn't as distraught as he had been a few minutes ago, you could tell the events that occurred were gnawing at him.

One of your hands drifts up, and you thread your fingers in his hair. It's like pulling a lever. He exhales deeply and pushes his face more against your neck.

"I'm sorry, pup," he murmurs.

You nuzzle the side of his head, and your heart nearly stops because he reciprocates this gesture with a few of the softest kisses you've ever felt, placed on your throat.

"I'd never hurt you on purpose. You know that."

You nod. Of course you knew that. And you would never say this to him out loud, but you felt so deeply for him, you weren't sure that your perception of him would have changed had his claws landed the strike on you.

Pulling back your head a little, you nudge his so you can see him. Both of your eyes connect for a moment before you lean in and kiss him. His lips are softer than you'd expected. His scent permeates your senses, but it's not one of booze or the brand of cigars he smokes. That's there, but your nostrils sense deeper. You could smell his essence. The way his blood runs hot as your tongue swipes into his mouth.

The kiss grows deeper. No words are said. Neither of you need them. Your fingers tighten on the dark locks of brown hair, and you climb into his lap. His hands land on your hips almost instantaneously. The only sounds between the two of you are sharp exhales and shallow inhales.

"What are you doing, bub?" he murmurs against your lips, breaking the silence. Despite his questions, he wasn't stopping you. Not at all. His fingers dig into your flesh and pull you a little closer.

"Wanna make you feel better. And show you that I know."

You weren't sure what you and Logan were after that night. Boyfriend-girlfriend, friends with benefits, or maybe simple companions. You didn't really care because regardless of the answer, you were happy.

Kissing was the only thing that transpired that night, but that was ok with you. It didn't dampen your outlook on your relationship with him in the slightest. You'd made out for a while, tangling up with each other and the sheets before he pulled back. He didn't want to go further when you both were coming down from all that emotion. And you agreed. You didn't need more. You felt elated from receiving that much affection in the first place. Your tail whacked against the mattress as you curled up to his side and put your head on his sternum to rest.

The next morning though, he had been ready for more. Once he fell back asleep, his dreams had been much more pleasant. He woke up stiff and aching for you, and you were more than happy to provide some relief.

You alleviated that throbbing between his legs multiple times that morning, and you'd been taking care of it at least once a day every day since then.

The team could tell something was going on between the two of you, a deeper bond than your initial affinity for Logan. You walked with a faster wag in your tail, and he seemed less jagged at the edges. Others were less likely to get cut now if they reached for him the wrong way.

Each of your steps also came with a small jingle now since Logan had given you his dog tags. You'd been lying against his side, basking in the afterglow of one of your escapades when he dangled the metal chain between the two of you.

"Want you to have these, pup," he rasped.

You'd looked at him with curiosity swimming in your eyes. Excitement mingled there too though.

He chuckled at the look before boosting your head so he could put them on you. 

"I know my pretty puppy doesn't want to wear a collar for me yet," he teased, getting a pout out of you, "I just want you to have something of mine. You don't even have to wear 'em if you don't want to."

You'd worn them every moment since he gave them to you. Wouldn't take them off for anything. The physical representation of your attachment stayed secured around your neck at all times. The way it made you feel had you thinking a collar would be a pretty nice next step.

It'd been just over a month since you became something more with him. Your tail zips back and forth as you clean up the training room, thinking all of this over. A little smile rests on your features too. Jean helps out nearby, laughing gently at your mood.

"You have it bad," she teases.

Your head turns, and you grin, exposing those elongated canines. Shrugging, you prance over to help her finish the area she was tidying up.

When the two of you get everything back into shape, you head out into the sleek hallway back towards the main part of the mansion. Your shoes squeak against the tile as you bound towards the doors.

Entering the primary floor from the rooms below always brought a bit of adjustment for your eyes. The lights downstairs shone bright, fluorescent white. Coming back to the soft lamps of the common rooms had you blinking while your pupils scanned the room for Logan.

You catch sight of him standing near the two large doors that acted as entrance to the school. Right now, you can only see him from behind, but you spot Charles next to him. It looks like they're talking to someone, though the former's bulky frame prevents you from seeing who.

Your legs carry you over to the pair. You come up on the side of Logan that Charles doesn't occupy. Tucking yourself under his arm, you look up at him first before your eyes land on the other person speaking.

The sight of her makes your head tilt to the side just the slightest. Every feature on her embodies beauty. Her red hair, similar to Jean's in color, sits slicked back on her head. Deep blue coats every inch of her body. Seductive yellow eyes flit between the two men she's conversing with, and now that you had appeared, they cast to you as well.

You'd seen her before around the mansion once or twice, and you didn't really trust her. She didn't seem like a bad person, but she worked opposite the team. Even though Logan had assured you she was just offering some information about a common goal, you didn't feel confident that Mystique's motives were of such pure intent.

Still, you don't interrupt the in-progress discussion. You stay quietly pressed to Logan's side, tail coasting against the back of his leg. He doesn't wrap his arm around you as tight as normal or rub between your ears like he often did, but he gives you a little pat on the shoulder to acknowledge your presence.

Mystique finishes listening to Charles' point before directing her full attention to you.

"I knew you all wore uniforms, but you two didn't tell me your team had a little mascot too."

You bristle at the comment but try to remain composed. You were better than a thoughtless animal that snapped at a little poke. Charles hadn't even noticed your presence. He looks over at you and realizes what Mystique's quip referred to. He introduces you briefly.

"She's new to the team and is still training, but she's not a mascot," he concludes.

"So more like a stray then? Cute. I never would have guessed you wanted a pet," she says to Logan.

Tension creeps up your spine, and you stand up straight, pulling away from Logan's side.

"I'm not his pet," you huff and look at her. Your pouty way of asserting yourself probably didn't do much to project the image of independence you wanted. "I'm-"

You go to continue, but she cuts you off.

"You really should teach your dog not to bark, Logan. It's not polite."

That sparks a small growl in your throat before you can shut it down. Her eyes widen in amusement which only makes it feel worse for you. The most humiliating part is that you know all of this is inauthentic. She's doing it for the purpose of riling you up, getting you upset and making you feel bad. You know this, but your reaction gets the better of you.

Before you can do anything regrettable, Logan's hand curls over your shoulder. He keeps you rooted where you stand, quelling the flames of conflict before they have a chance to spread.

"Back off," he says, quick and curt with Mystique. He turns to Charles next, still keeping his voice firm. "You don't need me to hear the rest of this. I think I'll let you wrap it up."

Charles nods, knowing it would be better for him to focus on removing you from the potentially volatile situation instead of being another observer for some intel.

Logan guides you away from them, hand moving from your shoulder to the back of your neck as he takes you upstairs. The anger inside you melts away with the growing distance between you and Mystique. Only the stain of embarrassment remained.

"I'm sorry," you say. Your words sound compressed, the weight of your shame hanging off them.

"Don't be. You didn't do anything wrong. She wanted you to get upset, so that's what she got."

The pair of you move through the rest of the hall without another word. You go into your room. Once the door is shut and it's just the two of you between the four walls, you stomp over to the bed and flop down onto the mattress.

Darkness clouds your vision while your face rests against the blankets. Your tail rests against your thigh limply. You hear him coming over and then feel his hand rubbing your leg near the lifeless appendage. The mattress dips as he sits next to you.

"C'mon. You're ok."

You shuffle around so your head is resting in his lap. "I looked pathetic."

He sighs. One of his hands rubs your back while the other pets your head. "You did not."

"Yeah I did."

"No. You didn't," he says, "You didn't do anything that bad. No one's gonna think less of you cause you got a little mad about someone talking shit to you."

You know he's right. Everyone here had an experience like that. It's how most of them ended up here, reacting even worse than you had. It still doesn't make you feel any less dumb. A deep exhale seeps from your lungs.

"I just don't understand why everyone looks at me like that. We all get it bad enough from humans, but then some of the others look down on me too. I'm the same as all of you. I don't say Mystique looks like a smurf cause she's blue, so I don't see why I have to get called a pet," you huff.

He smiles a little and scratches your ear, letting you vent.

"Even you guys looked at me different at first. I know you did. I'm not the only mutant with physical stuff. Why does it have to be a whole thing with me?"

"You're just a little different, bub. You confuse people, but it's not your fault. Nothing about you is less than any other mutant. Mystique doesn't even think that. She was trying to get under your skin."

"Yeah..." you say with a little dejection in your tone, "I still just wish people would treat me like normal. Or at least normal for a mutant."

"I know you do, baby," he hums and pats your arm.

By this point, you're far enough away from the harshness of what happened downstairs. You sit up and scoot closer to him crawling into his lap. He wraps his thick arms around you and rubs your back.

"There's my girl," he murmurs and pecks your temple.

You nuzzle him like a puppy seeking more affection from its owner. Your backside rests on his lap, your arms snug around his abdomen.

"I'm just curious though, pup. What's the big thing with being called dog? It's not that different than puppy," he says, a hint of caution in his voice. He figured now was as good a time as any to ask. He knew it was the main part of what Mystique said that set you off.

You don't react with anger or defensiveness which pleases him. Instead, you shrug.

"Cause. Puppy sounds cute. Dog is just so... bleh," you say, "It makes me sound like a gross animal that someone has to wrangle."

His eyebrow rises. You can see the amusement in his eyes, but he successfully kills his laugh before it leaves his throat.

"Mmm. Makes sense. Can't have anyone thinking you're gross."

"Exactly," you say and kiss his cheek, "You get it. I just... I don't wanna be your pet, I wanna be yours."

You breathe out the words and push yourself closer on his lap. He appeases your desire for less space and pulls you to his chest.

"You are mine. You don't have to worry about that," he says.

"And I still wanna be your little puppy."

He chuckles. His head ducks down to your neck to lay a few kisses there. One of his palms drifts down to gently knead the dough of your ass.

"You also are my little puppy. My little puppy that follows me everywhere. Mine to hold and love on. Mine to play with. Mine to deal with when she gets bratty."

The last word comes out teasing and brings a happy sound out of you. "I wasn't being bratty before. She started it," you say, playing along.

"Hmmm, you're right. Maybe fussy's a better word," he mutters and nips at the soft flesh of your neck.

"Nuh uh. I was being totally normal," you say and nudge at his face with your nose, getting a little squirmy on his lap.

He responds by flipping you over onto your back. The mattress creaks with the bout of pressure and a squeal leaves your throat. You can feel his length against your hip, half-hard already from how you had wiggled on his lap.

"Oh please," he says, "Why do you think I brought you up here? I can tell when my pup needs to calm down. And I know just how to do that, don't I?"

You whimper and nod. He grins before returning his lips to your neck. He nips a few love bites onto the delicate area, drawing little whines from you. His hands hold you in place and move with your body's wriggling. He gropes at your hips and waist, paws at your tits, and slides them around to massage your ass.

"Such a good girl. So responsive for me," he coos.

The condescending affection sends a pulse down to your clit, and your hips roll up to meet his. One of your legs hooks around his waist to pull his body closer.

"Logan. Don't tease," you pout.

Your whiny plea doesn't garner any sympathy from him though. He laughs against your neck and pulls back to smirk down at you.

"My little puppy needs to learn some patience. You think if you don't get my dick in seconds that it's teasing," he taunts.

You whine again and press your leg down on him. He doesn't make any move to pull his cock out though. One set of his fingers comes up to your jaw, directing your lips to an angle where his can land on yours. He kisses you nice and deep, swallowing up any bratty urges that were springing around inside your head. His tongue is warm and soft, gentle against yours.

Meanwhile, his freehand does start to slide down below. It travels beneath the waistband of your bottoms. His warm fingers glide over the plush skin of your pelvis and slot between your lower lips to find your swollen nub. He flicks at it, instantly getting a mewl from you.

You can feel his smug smile against your mouth, but you don't have much time to react to it before his middle finger starts swirling around your bud. Your leg releases his body as it squirms with your other on the mattress. You moan into his mouth and boost your hips into his touch, wanting more of that blissful friction.

"Sweet girl," he coos. The words are muffled by your skin, but you could pick those syllables out of any lineup. "That's your favorite spot, isn't it? Always gets you wriggling for me like a little puppy."

"Mhm," you whimper with a faint nod.

Your heels dig into the mattress to give you some leverage to push your hips up so he can tug your pants off. He takes the opportunity and flings them off the bed. With you bare to him like that, he leaves your lips and moves down. He pulls your top off next and smooches between your breasts and over your tummy before landing between your legs.

He kneels on the floor at the edge of the mattress. His hands hook around your thighs and pull you in his direction.

"C'mere, baby. Give me that puppy cunt. Gotta get it all wet, so it can take my cock."

With that, he buries his head between your thighs. You gasp and throw your head back. Your hands fly to his head to grab at the two dark points of hair.

Logan gives his all to the task of pleasuring you. Whether it was his cock or his mouth, you were never getting anything less than his best. That's obvious right now as he eats you out like it's all he has to live for. He laps at your poor little clit before sucking it into his mouth. It gets some good suction from his lips before he pulls away and licks a broad stripe over your cunt.

He prods his tongue at your entrance, pushing the soft appendage against your hole. You whine more, and he feels your heels dig into his back as they had the mattress. Little expletives float from your mouth into the air as you experience such a rush of euphoria.

"Taste so good, pup. So fuckin' sweet," he mumbles. His lips open and close over your pussy, making out with it.

You rock your hips back and forth, essentially humping his face. He groans and only works harder. Your cute reactions only spurred him on. He twists his tongue just how he'd learned you liked and uses the perfect amount of pressure to get you gushing for him. Your arousal begins to coat his chin, his dark facial hair glistening with your wetness.

"Nice and wet. I'm just gonna slide right in, huh baby?"

"Yeah," you pant. Your hips buck when his nose bumps your clit, but he keeps you held in place.

He kisses your clit before dragging his tongue over you anymore. The soft touch pulls a whimper from you. Your brain starts to get all muddled and hazy. The dreamy feeling always took over when he had you like this. He knows it's coming on too. He can tell by the sudden softening of your movements. You're less jerky and more fluid in how you fidget.

"Oh, that's it. I think my pretty puppy's ready for me," he says, voice smooth on your ears.

He wags his tongue over your little bundle of nerves a few more times before standing to undress himself. His shirt comes off first, dropped to the floor with your garments. His pants are next to go, crumpled on the ground and kicked off his ankles.

Crawling back on top of you, his larger figure boxes you in on the soft surface. His cock is fully hard by now, red and angry, leaking desire from the tip. He guides it to your center and rubs it through your soaked folds.

A soft grunt leaves him as your nectar coats his shaft and drips onto his balls a little too. He only slides it against you a couple times, not wanting to waste the stimulation humping when he could be nestled deep inside.

He brings his tip down to your hold and pushes it in. Your walls accept the familiar intrusion and he groans at the comfort of your velvet walls contracting around him. He pushes his length in all the way until he bottoms out.

Then, adjusting himself and gripping at your hips, he starts to thrust. The motions start as gentle rocks. Taps of his pelvis against your ass. You flutter around him. Moans leak from you, and he smiles at the obvious pleasure coursing through your body.

He fucks you deep, just how you always asked for it. You weren't concerned with whining for harder and deeper right now. This was enough. The feeling of his cock buried in you soothed you like nothing else. Your eyes roll back and puffs of air come from your nostrils.

"Fuck, honey. Feels like I can barely last with you," he grumbles.

"Can't even think when I'm with you," you babble.

Your arms come up to pull him closer, and he lets you. He presses his body into yours, in-turn, shoving his cock as far into you as physically possible. You cry out with the pressure. It was the best kind. Deep and satisfying. To the point that you can feel it in your tummy every time his belly pushes on yours.

"You may not be my dog, baby, but one day you're gonna be my perfect breeding bitch," he grunts.

Your jaw goes slack, eyes drooping with lust. Your head tilts back and he leans into yours more.

"Gonna have you full of me forever. Always gonna be mine."

You can't even respond. Your mind isn't coming up with any coherent response. All you can do is whimper and whine like the needy pup that you are.

"This is what you need sometimes, puppy. Need me to stretch you out on my cock. Get all those thoughts out of your head. Cause puppies don't have to think. Not when you have someone like me taking care of you."

Your thighs start quivering, a sign you were reaching your peak. He knows this and drills into you harder. His balls slap against you every time he pistons his hips. His heated skin rubs against yours. He occupies all your senses, overloading you with him.

"Logan... gotta... gonna cum," you whine.

"Then cum for me," he mumbles simply, "Cum all over my cock, and I'll be right behind you."

You nod. Your back arches up. It takes you a little more, but when you get there, you crash into the throes of release. A sharp yelp bursts from you. Your feet kick a little and your legs press against his sides in an attempt to shut him out.

You get so fucking tight when you cum. Your hole clenches around him, calling out to him to spill every drop of his seed inside your wanting orifice. He growls and drops his head in your neck. He feels it building between his hips. The pressure grows until he can't take it anymore. It snaps and the flood gates open.

He bites at your neck, not hard enough to break the skin but with enough need to leave a little mark. Hot, sticky cum shoots out of him in thick ropes. Warmth fills your insides and you feel like you're sinking into the mattress below you. Both of you are panting with the intensity of the high.

You've already come down by the time he's starting to. After he nuts, Logan tends to get a little sappy. His arms pull you in tighter and he pecks at your neck a few times more muttering something unintelligible about his baby puppy.

"So what do you think?" you ask and twirl into the room, showing off your new outfit.

It matched his. Black leather snug on your body, lined with the same gold on the seams of Logan's. The bold X that shown on his belt could be found on the zipper of your top, dangling against your chest.

He smiles at you, standing from the bed to walk over and get a better view.

"Looks pretty good," he says upon approaching, "Seems a little tight though. You got room for your tail in that thing?"

You laugh at his joke and spin around again, showing the back where the suit had accommodated for your tail to poke through. It whips back and forth before you turn to him again.

"Just perfect for you then," he says and pulls you close, patting your ass and kissing your forehead, "Look at you. An official member of the team."

You nod and struggle not to bounce all around the room with the excitement vibrating through your cells.

"We're gonna be like so totally cool together," you say.

"Yeah. Totally," he imitates affectionately. He cups your jaw, watching your cheeks squish in and your lips puff out. Leaning down, he puts his mouth on yours in a soft kiss. "You're gonna do great."

The words come out as a whisper against your lips. One of your canines slips over your bottom lip as you take it between your teeth. But the display of timidity only lasts a second.

"I know," you beam.

Locking your fingers around his palm, you drag him to the door and out into the hall. Your arm makes his swing as he walks along behind you. He rolls his eyes lovingly at your confident display, but he can't keep his gaze off your happy self. He lets you pull him without resistance.

Now it would be his turn to follow you.

[pucksandpower]

Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!

You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.

“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.

You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”

“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”

“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.

“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”

“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”

“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”

You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”

Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”

“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”

Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”

“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”

You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.

Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”

You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”

His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.

“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.

You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”

“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.

You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”

“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.

Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”

Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.

“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.

A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.

“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”

“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”

You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”

“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”

“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.

Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.

You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”

The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”

He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”

“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”

The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.

Almost.

A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.

“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.

Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.

“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.

“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”

“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”

“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”

“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.

“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”

“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”

“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”

“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.

“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”

Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”

“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.

You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”

“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”

“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”

You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.

Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.

By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.

“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”

“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”

Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.

“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”

“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”

“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.

Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”

And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.

You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.

“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.

You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”

“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”

Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”

You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”

“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.

Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”

“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.

You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”

Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.

“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.

Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”

Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”

“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”

“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.

You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”

Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”

That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.

“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”

Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.

“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”

“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.

Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.

For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.

You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.

“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”

Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”

“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.

You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”

Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.

Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”

“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.

Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.

“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”

You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.

A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.

The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.

“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”

You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.

“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”

Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.

One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.

[just1cefor4ll]

Kind stranger

Kang Dae-ho x pregnant!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, in-ho never reveals his true identity, might be OOC

A/n. this is uh— long. and my first time writing for squid game so I hope you enjoy!

“Miss, are you okay?” A man with the number 388 on his shirt asked, his voice soft and careful. His eyes, curious and innocent, sort of reminded you of a puppy; despite the grim reality around you both.

“Oh, me? Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, keeping your head down. “Just.. shaken up after the first game.” His brows furrowed slightly as he studied you, but he didn’t step closer. “You sure? I could ask for help if you’re feeling unwell.” “Yeah,” you said, forcing a small smile. “Really, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” For a moment, he looked like he might say more, but then he nodded. “Alright. Take care of yourself,” he said simply, before stepping back and going over to the man who supposedly has won these games before.

You exhaled, the tension in your shoulders easing. He didn’t push, and for that, you were grateful. The last thing you needed was someone noticing how you instinctively cradled your stomach when you thought no one was looking.

As the room buzzed with hushed conversations and the sound of restless movement, you sank further into yourself. There wasn’t room for kindness here, not when you were hiding something so precious—something that would only make you a target.

Still, you couldn’t shake the warmth in his voice. It was strange, how a simple act of concern could make you feel human again, even for just a moment. But you reminded yourself it was safer this way. No ties, no risks.

The only thing that mattered was keeping you and the life inside you safe. Your baby girl.

Once you woke up to the loud melody of classical music you were immediately hit with a kick to the stomach. ‘Shit— who’d think that a baby could be this strong.’ You think to yourself as you lazily sit up, rubbing the rest of the sleep from your eyes.

“Attention all players, the next game will begin shortly. Please follow the staff’s instructions and make your way towards the game hall.

Right—those death games. You joined the forming line of players, a chaotic mix of emotions filling the air. Some people were pale with fear, trembling as if the weight of the games had already crushed them. Others seemed indifferent, like they’d embraced whatever fate awaited. Then there were those who practically vibrated with excitement, eyes gleaming at the chance to win yet another fuck ton of blood money.

You were firmly in the scared to death category. Money didn’t matter— at least not anymore. Your debt was more than the share you’d get if the first vote had ended in the X’s winning but to you no amount of cash could make this worth risking your baby’s life for.

As you shuffled forward, lost in thought, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Startled, you turned to see the old lady from the first game, her kind smile somehow both soothing and grating at the same time. “Do you need a hand? I’m sure you’re still tired.” She asked softly, leaning closer as though trying to shield her words from the others. “I heard the next game is dalgona, so please, be careful.” You forced a small, polite smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Oh, no, I’m fine. Thank you,” you said quickly, brushing off her concern as gently as you could.

She didn’t seem convinced, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you liked. But, thankfully, she nodded and stepped back into line.

You sighed inwardly, a mix of guilt and frustration bubbling under your skin. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her kindness. In a place like this, it was a rarity you didn’t take lightly, but you couldn’t afford for anyone to notice how vulnerable you really were.

Well whatever theory the old woman heard, it definitely wasn’t true. You were supposed to divide into groups of five and all though you didn’t really remember dalgona being a big part of your childhood, you still knew it definitely wasn’t a group game.

You sigh as you try and look for a team however you forgot that all these men were stuck up and sexist so they all turned you down even if they needed just one last player to make them a full team. ‘Motherfuckers—‘ You bump into a familiar man, the very one who was concerned for your well being yesterday. The impact made you wince and clutch your stomach, mumbling out a quick ‘sorry’. “Oh, miss! It’s you. Are you okay did I hurt you?” He put a hand on your back and looked at you with concern in his eyes— which then traveled down to your swollen belly. “Please let me join your team, everyone keeps turning me away.” You begged, practically bowing to this man to help you. “Of course— please no need to bow I’m glad to help you. Please don’t strain yourself miss, I’ve got you.” He smiled sweetly and lead you to his group— of men.

“I thought you’d bring a man—“ Player 390 started but cut himself off as you placed your hand on your stomach, pulling the ‘i’m pregnant’ card. ‘Whatever needs go be done to survive I guess.’ Every single one of them looked down and nodded, welcoming you with warmth which was quiet unexpected.

The game luckily went well— at least for your team. The other one unfortunately got shot up while you were cheering in victory, bringing you back to the cruel reality you were living.

Player 456; Gi-hun as you learnt once you got back, instructed everyone to put their mattresses onto the ground and make a barrier in case anyone attacked tonight which seemed absurd but you didn’t bother arguing since he did play before. However Young-il voiced his concerns aloud which only made you wince at the bad move.

“Absurd? The moment the lights went out last time, everyone went for each other. People who you thought you could trust. Your most ‘loyal’ ally betrayed you without a second thought.” His voice was sharp, venom dripping from every word, and the room grew colder as his meaning sank in. Young-il smiled faintly, looking down a bit. “You’re right,” he said smoothly. “I apologize for my ignorance. Who better to trust than someone who’s already survived?”

The tension hung heavy in the air for a moment before Gi-hun turned away, giving out orders to the group. Everyone, even the skeptical ones, obeyed without question.

Player 388; Kang Dae-ho and 390; Jung-Bae gathered mattresses and set them down onto the floor while you were tasked to collect pillows and blankets. ‘So you don’t overexert yourself.’ Gi-hun said to you a few minutes back, his light pat on your back a bit comforting but still awkward from the last interaction.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, everyone moving with purpose, glancing nervously at the darkened corners. Gi-hun’s warning echoed in your mind: People you thought you could trust.

Once again when the classical music woke everyone from their slumber— a never ending routine you’ve learned to hate, you knew what was about to happen. ‘The next game..’

You all agreed on voting X, even Jung-bae who previously voted O and told yourselves you’d meet for dinner once everything in your lives was settled which excited your nerves. ‘I got this. For my baby, and my.. friends.’ You thought to yourself as everyone chatted along themselves, you yourself stealing glances from Dae-ho, a reassuring smile exchange between the two of you.

That night while everyone was asleep, Dae-ho was keeping watch with Jung-bae. You noticed how the older man was starting to doze off so you decided to switch with him even after his constant reassurance that he’d be fine and that you needed the rest more than he did.

You sat in silence for a bit before you decided to strike up a conversation. “So, what made you take me into your team?” You asked softly, looking up at the prize money in the see through pig. ‘Your life could be added to that pile any second.’ A voice inside you kept repeating but you shook it off. “You reminded me of my sisters. I knew I definitely wouldn’t want them to be left stranded and definitely not here— plus in your state you could be exposed to any kind of danger and what kind of man would I be if I let a gorgeous lady like you get put into the arms of those assholes..” He stated simply, gesturing towards all the other men who were on the other side. You just nodded, his words kind and genuine.

You talked through almost the whole night, telling him how you ended up here and some personal things which hardly anyone knew about you while he shared things about his toxic household and his amazing older sisters before Gi-hun told you two to catch some sleep before the game that morning and so you did, giving Dae-ho one last glance before lying down on your mattress.

You made your way towards the game hall, your heart beating so fast you thought it’d explode any second. The room looked like a big circus tent, doors going all around the room with a big platform in the middle which reminded you of a carousel. Once the instructions were said, you all formed a strategy. “If the number is bigger then 5 we will find the remaining amount of players. If it’s less then that we split. The most important thing is to stay calm, don’t panic.” You repeated in your head everything that Gi-hun and Young-il said, placing your hand on the pile, taking a deep breath before muttering ‘Victory.’ along with them.

The platform soon started spinning, a nursery rhyme on the speakers with bright lights shining in the middle of the platform.

“Ten players.”

Everyome scathered around, yelling and pulling people into their group like wild animals before a group of people came to you. “We have 4, how many of you are there?” Player 120 asked before getting pushed by a man with wide, psychotic eyes. “There’s five of us, come with us.” However they got pulled away by yet another group.

“15 seconds.”

Player 120 rushed to a woman who looked like she was.. praying? Rushing to the nearest empty door. “Room 40! The green one!” You yelled as you quickly got into the room before it locked itself. Your breathing was quick, sweat going down your forehead but relief washed over you. You were alive. The lady started screaming, something about how you were alive because of her and that you should be thanking her but you ignored her, going back out once the speaker told you to.

The next round was 3 people so you went with Dae-ho and Jung-bae while Young-il and Gi-hun went to find a player. Another round survived.

Six players was the most shattering part. Everything was going fine until the girl who’s name was Young-mi was locked out by player 333. You couldn’t watch the scene unfold so you looked down and covered your ears, a ache in your heart for player 120 who lost a dear friend.

The last was two players and you ran with Dae-ho to an empty room, pushing a few players aside to get an empty room. “There’s 50 rooms and 126 players. 100 players will survive, the remaining won’t be as lucky.” Young-il explained before you all ran off once the platform stopped. A pain in your stomach stopped you deaf in your tracks, getting pushed to the ground by a guy who quickly went into the room with Dae-ho, however he got a punch to the face and got thrown out before he could close the door.

“10 seconds.”

Dae-ho rushed to you and picked you up, sprinting to the room and shutting it right as the lock clicked and shots fired, eliminating the 26 players just like Young-il had predicted. Your eyes watered with relief, getting onto your knees you bowed, choking out your gratitude to the man in front of you. He knelt down next to you, letting your head rest on his shoulder as he patted your head. “No, no don’t cry. I told you I’d get us out of here didn’t I? We’re alive, all three of us.” He smiled, giving you one last squeeze before helping you up, wiping your tears and joining the rest of the group.

Dae-ho stayed beside you the whole time after the game, waiting for the pink soldiers to come and let us take a vote. Your hopes weren’t high, it was pretty obvious since you sat there with slumped shoulders as everyone else after your vote continued to press the O’s and X’s.

“Last 6 votes.” Jung-bae shook Dae-ho with excitement which he returned twice as much. Your eyes began to shine with a little hope as the last two players came up to the voting area.

An X..

You could sense the tension, every single breath, the sound of teeth chattering.. one last vote.

An X.

51:50

You won? You— no that couldn’t be? You won! You jumped into Dae-ho’s arms as everyone from your group started to celebrate. The money was enough for all of you now, it was perfect even! Gi-hun promised everyone to help with the money he previously won if something wasn’t payed for or that they just needed help in general.

There were angry shouts which were quickly shut down with a gun shot to the roof.

“The majority of the players have voted to terminate the games. It’s quite a pity we must say goodbye to you like this, but the games are now over. Your belongings and money will all be returned and sent to your homes. Thank you for your participation.”

You finally felt the cold breeze of air as you were dumped out of the car, hitting your back hard against the pavement. Groaning, you struggled against the restraints on your wrists, wincing at the sharp pain shooting through your body. Just as panic began to settle in, you heard familiar voices—voices you thought you’d never hear again. Your friends. Relief washed over you as they rushed to your side, helping you up and breaking the binds that held you, and them captive.

Months passed since the horrors of the games, and life had taken a turn for the better. You moved in with Dae-ho after oficially getting together and deciding to start something fresh. Your apartment was close to almost everyone in your circle, making it easier to stay connected; which is why regular dinners became a tradition, a way to bond and leave the dark memories of the games behind. Slowly but surely, you all began to rebuild your lives, focusing on the present and the joy of simply being alive.

Not long after your release, your baby came into the world—a healthy, beautiful girl, delivered without complications. The birth was celebrated joyously, marking a new chapter in your life. Gi-hun and Young-il eagerly accepted the roles of godfathers, while the kind old woman from the group became the grandmother. Everyone else quickly fell into place as loving uncles and aunts.

It wasn’t a blood tied family, but the love was a stronger seal than anything else in the world.

Tonight, you were hosting a sort of ‘meeting our daughter’ type thing at your home. Everyone was already there but you excused yourself to get a camera to take a few pictures when you noticed Dae-ho standing in front of the mirror. His brow was furrowed, a look you’ve learnt to recognize after being together for a few months now. “Dae?” you asked softly, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on the mirror as he fidgeted with his shirt. “I just... I’ve been thinking. What if she doesn’t like me when she grows older? I’m not her real father, after all.” His voice faltered, the vulnerability clear in his tone. You turned him around gently, cupping his face in your hands as you looked into his eyes. “Dae-ho,” you began, your voice steady and full of warmth, “she doesn’t need a ‘real’ father. She needs you. You’re the one who’s been there for us, who’s loved us and cared for us. She’s going to grow up knowing how amazing you are because of the love you show her every single day.”

His expression softened, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a shaky breath. “You really think so?” You smiled, nodding. “I know so. She already adores you. She doesn’t care about blood ties, Dae she only knows the man who makes her giggle and holds her when she cries. That’s what makes a real father.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you,” he whispered.

The sound of your daughter’s laugh echoed from the living room, followed by Gi-hun’s exaggerated baby talk as he attempted to entertain her. You and Dae-ho shared a chuckle before heading out to join the others. That night, surrounded by your unconventional but deeply loving family, you realized just how far you’d come. The memories of the games still lingered, but they no longer held power over you. Your life was yours to live, and the bonds you’d formed in the aftermath were stronger than anything money or blood could ever buy.

In the warmth of your family’s laughter and the comfort of Dae-ho’s hand in yours, you knew you had found your peace.

© just1cefor4ll— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms and fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[ditzydoe444]

MDNI 18+

mechanic jason! smut

older mechanic jason who is always covered in grease and oil whilst working on cars, and either wore a flimsy white tank stained with lil and grease or completely shirtless. though, it was usually the latter.

his large hands could easily grip the tools which looked comically small in his grasp, like children’s toy. the muscles in his bicep would flex and become more pronounced as he worked on the car, and the veins on his hands becoming more prominent.

his garage was old, rusty and dark. the lighting was quite dim with only one main source of overhead light, oil and grease stains on the dark concrete floor and the sound of his occasional grunts and curses when working on a stubborn car.

essentially, this place was not meant for a girl that looked soft, prim and proper. he remained focused as he worked on an old convertible, with the hood popped up. the summer heat and the lack of air ventilation resulted in jason ditching his tank and working shirtless, his bare skin glistening with sweat.

when he heard small footsteps coming closer he spoke up gruffly,

“what can i help you with?” he asked without even looking up, still focused on fixing the car.

“i need an engine repair, i think,” a soft voice responded which resulted in him turning his head.

he tried to suppress the shock that entered him when he first saw you, the juxtaposition couldn’t be more obvious. prim and proper against his rugged dirty state.

“an engine repair?” he questioned, as he wiped his grease stained hands on an old rag before walking to where she had parked outside his garage, the pink convertible couldn’t be more telling of her personality. spoiled, princessy, high maintenance.

he watched as you followed him like a lost puppy, as you nodded. clearly, you didn’t know a thing about cars.

“i can take a look at it now, i just finished up with the other one back there,” he motioned to the black convertible he was working on in the garage.

he tried to turn his gaze away from your exposed legs in the small mini skirt you were wearing, but he just couldn’t. when you were talking about the car’s issues all he could focus on was either your plump pink glossy lips, or your legs. when you had went to grab the lip gloss that you left on the passenger seat, your skirt rose up to a shockingly short length, though he quickly averted his gaze before he could see anymore.

it was inappropriate.

**

though it didn’t stop him from being balls deep in you when the price of the fix was too high, where his mind drifted off into other ways you could repay him. at first, he brushed it off thinking someone as prim and proper as you wouldn’t even think of it and he was just being dirty. however he was wrong, very wrong.

hence why you were sprawled out on the rough work bench on your back, random incoherent mumbles coming out, filling the empty garage with your lewd noises.

the small mini skirt and panties discarded on the dirty concrete floor, it was like a sign of your prim and proper self gone.

his large hands encircled nearly the whole of your waist, gripping the sides tightly as he moved harshly.

“never thought a girl as prim and proper as you would be doin’ somethin’ like this,” he grunted, his large hands roaming, one slid up, going over your breast before sliding higher to grip your throat.

you couldn’t even form proper thoughts, your mind going blank when you saw the small bulge in your stomach as he moved. he was big, too big.

“jay,” you mumbled your hand reaching out but falling back to your side when he continued to hit deeper.

he gave a low tut, almost mean, before a small sly smile formed on his rugged features.

“i know, i know” he cooed, bending to kiss your neck, one of his hand still wrapped around your throat squeezing it slightly.

“you gon’ keep this our lil secret huh?” he whispered as he bit your earlobe softly, “can’t have the word getting out i’m getting dirty with my customers,”

you didn’t even know what he said, but the sensation was too much, his was deep inside, and kissing you senselessly.

you mumbled a response, tears stained your face, mascara running.“glad to know we are on the same page sweet thing,” he whispered before both of his hands went to squeeze your stomach a little, just around where the outline of him was.

“all this for me?” he questioned a little breathless, as he stared at the mess you were making, small damp spots on the rough working bench, and a small white ring around his fat cock.

you nodded, you were too dazed to do anything else as he used you like a rag doll. he slipped two fingers into your mouth, shoving them down, whilst his other hand remained glued to your side, holding you down. you didn’t want his hand there, you wanted it somewhere else and he knew it. he was just being mean.

“jay,” you cried, though it sounded more muffled with his fingers stuffing your mouth as you choked out a response. though he knew exactly what you wanted, his fingers slipping out before going down, to the small sensitive bundle of nerves. he was rough, the sensation was too much, you kicked your legs, attempting to wiggle out but he kept you in your place, bullying your cunt.

he moved more vigorously, his harsh thrusts moving the work bench slightly, the table legs scratching against the concrete floor. “sweet thing, you ok?” he cooed, though you probably looked like anything but ok. your mascara was running down your cheeks, your lipstick and gloss was either smudged or completely gone, and saliva dripping down your chin.

“give me a smile baby, and i’ll give you want you want,” his grip on her was tightening. god you were so desperate for it, you attempted to give him a smile, the immense pleasure making it hard to do anything really. you gave him a soft smile, that lasted quite short when he kept hitting deeper.

“there we go, love that smile,” he grinned before giving you exactly what you wanted.