#he pretty much just went to test himself and just to say he did it

[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.

[whatifitis]

♡ You Make Me Crazier - LN 4 ♡

Summary: this is based off this request! Lando spends most of the night playing Tarkov with Max and ends up keeping his gf awake for hours. so guess who's in a bad mood in the morning while the other is just vibing 😀

WC: 1781

CW: fluff, lando being loud (NOT IN THAT WAY PERVS), pillow tossing

Finally, the end of the season has come and the peace can begin. Lando and yourself had joined the team in celebration of Mclaren winning the constructors’. But Lando decided to leave the party quite early as he’d wanted to play some Tarkov with Max. You didn’t argue, you were pretty exhausted from such an eventful day, you were excited to hop into bed and get some much needed rest while Lando played some games. 

The two of you had arrived back in your hotel room and Lando quickly pressed a kiss to your lips before letting you know he was going to play Tarkov immediately. You watched him race to the desk with his laptop. You didn’t mind him playing video games, you knew it did him some good. Tarkov was sort of a safe place for him to forget about the real world a bit and you were grateful that he had something like that. Although, you’re not sure how he finds that game peaceful as it is one of the most stressful games you know of. It’s not like Animal Crossing where you just talk to villagers and hunt and gather. 

You got ready for bed, taking a nice shower to get rid of the smell from being out all day and partying. You think there was a bit of rose water still in your hair. Taking your time, you smile as you hear Lando’s laughter from the main room. It’s rare to hear it nowadays. 

Once you’re ready for bed, you walk over to Lando and tap him on the shoulder, “Love, I’m going to sleep now. Don’t stay up late, we have to be at the track early tomorrow for testing. And don’t be too loud, I wanna sleep a decent amount and I don’t want another noise complaint from the hotel.” you tease. 

“Alright, darling. I’ll try and keep it down and I won’t be long. Goodnight.” he says as he softly kisses you before returning to his gaming session. 

You got settled into bed and closed your eyes, ready to drift into a peaceful sleep. But the universe decided you weren’t going to sleep yet as Lando could not, for the life of him, keep it down. One second he was laughing his head off and the next he was doing some sort of accent that was a mix of German and Bulgarian? 

Slightly opening your eyes, you peer up at him and you silently scold him for being too noisy. You grab a small pillow off the bed and toss it in his direction, watching as it bounces off his back a bit. You can hear as he whispers “Guys, I think I fucked up.” before removing his headphones and turning to look at you, “I’m sorry, love. I’ll keep it down now, swear.” 

With that statement, you flop back down and sink into the bed. Thinking you’ve successfully gotten him to quiet down, until you hear him nearly wheezing from something Max said. This went on for another few hours, each minute passing you got more annoyed. But you didn’t want to say anything because you knew that these moments were hard for Lando to get and you knew he needed this time a lot. He needed to spend time with his friends and enjoy himself. He deserved it. 

So there you were, eyes dry as Oscar Piastri’s humor, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, waiting for Lando to log off for the night. You look at the clock and it was already 2 am. Your alarm was set for 7:30 am so that you could get ready and maybe eat before heading to the track. You cursed the universe and time difference, questioning what you did to deserve 5 hours of sleep. 

Finally, you heard Lando tell Max that he was done for the night and that he was logging off. 

Praise the lord. 

Lando shut his laptop and quietly got up from his seat, turning to see you still awake and on your phone. 

“I thought you were sleeping.” 

“Are you for real?” you blankly stare at him. 

“What?”

“You were still loud, Lan. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell me to shut up? More than once? You know I’m not a very good listener.” he jokes. 

“I know. But you love being able to play Tarkov and stuff with Max and them. I didn’t want to stop you from doing that.”

“Oh, baby. Next time smack me over the head. I don’t like that I kept you up for so long.” he says, walking to sit by you on the bed. 

“It’s okay, Lan. Seriously. I can still get about 5 hours of sleep.”

“That’s absolute rubbish. Why don’t you sleep in? You can meet me on the track later or you can spend the day relaxing.”

“Nah. I wanna go with you and see the car. I also wanna mock Zak cause I know he’s gonna be hungover as fuck.” you laugh. 

“Fine. But I’ll make sure you get some Celsius tomorrow, even though they don’t sponsor Mclaren! Monster does. Just make sure to cover the can if there’s cameras.”

“Thanks. Now shut up so I can sleep.” you say, rolling to sleep on your side. 

“Alright, we’ll sleep now. Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

-=+=-

It was indeed not a goodnight. You woke up to your alarm blaring loudly in your ear. Your eyes felt as if they were glued shut, you couldn’t open them to turn off your alarm. After a few attempts of trying to find your phone with your eyes closed, you reached over to Lando and shoved him, “Lando, turn it off. If it keeps ringing, I’m gonna kick both you and the phone into a wall!”

“Damn, someone’s already in a bad mood.” Lando mutters as he reaches across your body to grab your phone and mute it. 

Finally, some peace and quiet. That was, until Lando’s own alarm started going off. You were already off your rocker and his alarm sent you off the edge. He was still hovering over you and setting your phone back down so you end up “accidentally” tossing him off the bed with your eyes shut. All you heard was the thud that came from his body hitting the floor. 

Lando was so thrown off. He quickly stood up with his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. “Okay, I was gonna let you off for slapping me awake and making me turn off your alarm. But that was rude! You just tossed me off the bed. Not cool, babe.”

“Your fault for keeping me up for so long. Now I’ve had about 5 hours of sleep and you’re already on my nerves.”

“Since I’m so generous, I’ll let you sleep 10 more minutes. If you don’t wake up, I’ll be rolling you off the bed.” With that, he softly kisses your head and goes and gets ready for the day. 

Lando had taken a shower and gotten dressed, so it was time to awaken the beast, aka you.

He quietly walked over to your sleeping figure and sat next to you. Gently, he places a hand on your back and slowly rubs it, letting you know it had been 15 minutes and that it was time for you to wake up. He was met with an annoyed groan and a swatting away of his hand. 

“Okay, wake up. If you don’t get up now, I’ll make sure all the Celsius and coffee are hidden from you today.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” you side eye him. 

“Oh I would.” He smiles cheekily. 

“Piss off.” you, hitting him with a pillow, causing him to dramatically flop onto the floor. 

“Damn, you make me fall all the time. I’m so unbelievably in love with you.” he says, trying to flash you a cheeky smile but you were not having it. You got out of bed and locked yourself in the backroom so you could get ready for the day. 

After about 4 minutes, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Through muffled sounds, you could hear your boyfriend begging to be let in, “Baby, can you let me in please. I feel so lonely and bored. I want to hug you, please. Let me in, please. Let me innn, let me innnnnnn.” 

As much as he was pissing you off, you loved him too much to leave him out there alone. Plus, you were sure he was going to break something, a bone, if he’s left unsupervised for too long. Opening the door, you watched as Lando slid down the door and onto the floor. He was leaning on the door with all his weight so he didn’t land gracefully. 

“Oh would you look at that? I’ve fallen for you, again!” he laughs, still you’re not having it. 

You go back to doing your makeup in the mirror. You’re focused on your eyeliner when you feel something, Lando, grab your ankles. He pulls himself closer and wraps himself around your legs. 

“Koala mode. Oscah mode. Mark Webbah mode.”

“Off.” you try to shake him off. 

“Not until you love me again.” 

“I still love you, somehow. Get off.” you try and shake him off again. 

“Please. Please. PLEEEAAASSSEE” he squeals.

“Lan! Up.”

Almost as if he were a soldier being commanded, he jumped up to his feet. 

“I’m sorry, babe. Really, I am. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” he says, hugging you from behind and planting soft kisses on your shoulder and neck, “I shouldn’t have stayed up for so long and yelled so much. I’ll be better, I promise. Please, forgive me.” he’s gone all soft now, truly afraid he’s messed up. 

You turn in his arms to face him, “Lan, listen to me, yeah? As much as your late night gaming can annoy me, I wouldn’t change it for the world. There’s a sense of peace I feel whenever I get to hear you talk and laugh. People would claw for pieces to get that type of peace. So don’t worry. I still love you and will continue loving you. Even if it means less sleep. You still owe me a Celsius though.” you smile at him. 

His heart feels like it’s surrounded by butterflies. He loved hearing how much you love him and he’s relieved that you aren’t too mad at him. 

He softly connects your lips with his. He only feels happy and safe when he’s with you. So he thanks god everyday for you. He also thanks god for the fact that you can be bribed with Celsius.

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[brownblob]

"I Love You"

When the words "I love you" spill from the prefect's lips, how do the Housewardens react?

Part 2

TW: Kissing in Leona's part, mentions of insecurities (Fluff)

Part 1 (Separate): Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto

ᥫ᭡. Riddle Rosehearts ᥫ᭡.

Like the thorns on a rose bush, Riddle's words were piercing and harsh. A follower of rules and also a preacher. Even so, what rules could he apply to you? You who was from another world entirely, you who understood little of his world yet were so brave, and you who broke his rules but never angered him. He was so utterly confused. He wasn't sure what he felt, really, you were far from perfect- mother wouldn't approve . Still, he couldn' t deny how his cheeks flared up when you walked into the same room, how he'd slightly fumble his words, and especially how his warnings were much tamer when you broke a rule. It all had to mean something or maybe he was going crazy. How could he like you, even a little- but how could he not?

But he had priorities and you weren't supposed to be one of them, you weren't meant to be a worry, you weren't supposed to be anything. But he cared. So much so, he didn't mind when you broke his rules, it felt right. It was the opposite to all that he was taught, something was amiss. It felt like a fresh breath of air, akin to sunlight engulfing him in a warm embrace. He felt at peace when you were nearby, as if he needn't be so uptight. Maybe it was alright for a few rules to be broken, to enjoy what life had to offer, to allow himself to relax.

He really was grateful for your calming presence, reminiscent to a fresh cup of herbal tea- with a slight hint of cinnamon, subtly spicy. Just like you were, not quite sweet but not sour, maybe spicy was the right term? So earthy and full of life, different from his dull self. But with you near him, he didn't feel so dull even he could be fun- at least you enjoyed his presence, it was enough.

Despite that, you weren't fair- why did he feel so warm when you came close? What right did you have making his face go red, and not from anger? Who allowed you to be so ethereal?

It wasn't fair.

How you were so insufferably pretty, and the way you'd willingly spend time with such a hot-head like him, trying your best to follow the rules of his dorm. You'd try to accommodate yourself to him, you'd really do that for him? He could just melt in your arms. The way you didn't mind when he lectured you for your recklessness, not speaking up but simply eyeing him with wide eyes- how was he even supposed to speak? You'd study alongside him, let him tutor you and afterwords you'd always stay for a cup of tea. He got used to it- your company and your mannerisms. Different from him, yet truly appreciated.

It was another tutoring session when something unforseen took place. Your hand was raveled in your hair as you grumbled and groaned, you hadn't expected the study packets Riddle provided to be so difficult. You had a test in two-weeks, it was time you started practicing practical magic, lucky you having Riddle by your side.

It was a tough night full of nit-picking, you'd say he was mean but you could see how he was trying his best to be tame with his words- how they were harsh but not mean, truly, this was also a challenge for him.

Hours went by, the moon rose in the sky and you were a tired mess, at least Riddle's tutoring helped. You were just about to thank him when the words spilled out of your mouth, unknowingly. Sleepy eyes looked up at him while a soft smile played at your lips.

"I love you, you know?"

How cruel of you to simply doze of afterwards, would you not even listen to what he had to say? Maybe it was for the best, if you were awake he wouldn't be able to meet your gaze. After all, his face was even redder than before, butterflies in his stomach as he simply stood there- had he been dreaming? He hoped not, it would be sadistic of life to play such a joke. He only realized it wasn't a dream when your head touched his hand, you were asleep and comfortable- you felt safe around him, trusted him. It was endearing.

Nevertheless, it was improper for you to doze off all of a sudden. But, just for today, he'd allow you- 'rules are meant to be broken', was what you always said. This was his form of breaking a rule, such a rebel he was. His hand traveled to your face, cupping you cheek gently before he draped a blanket over you- red like roses and Riddle himself.

"I love you too.."

A whisper, he hoped you heard it. Maybe you did and maybe you didn't- he might say it once more, after you awake. Till then, just let him admire you who looked so serene.

ᥫ᭡. Leona Kingscholar ᥫ᭡.

You're really gonna keep trying, aren't ya herbivore? Always trying to push him to go to class, to set his life straight. Really, why do you even care? Every time he pushes you away, orders you to bring him a snack, tells you to remain his pillow. You do it. Why do you stay? No one else would- he's a prince, is that it? His wealth, his influence, the power he holds. Is that what you want a part of? Everyone else had, just to ditch him after.

If you do, he doesn't mind- just stay, please don't go.

He wouldn't admit it but he liked your presence, the way you constantly clung to him, tried to lend a hand to help him who was strong while you were so weak. He might just go to class now, and he does, much more than before. You're a motivation he works for, it brings a smile on your little face. He wants it to stay, he doesn't even know why.

What really affects him is when he realizes, that you stay not for his money, nor his power and influence. You just like him. You enjoy his company, him as a person, an individual. He's not 'the second prince of Sunset Savannah' to you. No, he's Leona Kingscholar to you- not a second option, not someone you'll leave any time soon, and someone you genuinely care for.

Fine then, if his herbivore stays for him- he'll work them. You are a motivation to him, with your sweet words and the time you willingly spend- he too will work for you and be your reason to remain in Twisted Wonderland.

Was it selfish of him to want you to stay, no matter the cost? Maybe, but he is a prince- some habits don't leave, especially not when he's found his reasoning to move forward. He'll change some of his ways for you, it's cute when your face lights up as you notice him heading to class.

He doesn't change every one of his ways though. Why would he, when those ways of his allow him to see your face? You being pulled by Ruggie and towards him to wake him up, and you do- soft nothings spill from your lips as your try to wake the lazy lion before you. Of course he's awake, it's clear he is when he pulls you beside him. His weight stops you from moving, it's a usual now.

"Just stay for a bit, yeah? I promise I'll go to next class after, so just stay with me."

You do, it's comforting but so confusing. It's not appropriate for you to have feelings for someone like him, a prince of another world- you might have to go back to your won, though, you don't really want tot leave when Leona's around. It feels as though you're doing something meant for 'more than friends', something wrong. None of you confront it. It's serene in this silence, his warmth, in his embrace. It's a mutual feeling of safety, a haven. Let it last while it does, he'll make sure it's forever.

"I love you."

And the words spill out of your mouth, no ones near, just him and you. One of his eyes open, a neutral look on his face- you're not sure what to make of it. You don't have to, he's just shocked, not that he'll admit it. He didn't expect his herbivore to be so bold, he likes it, he likes you- loves you too. A grin soon flashes on his face, sharp canines flashing before he pulls you closer. You know what he's insinuating, you abide. He has a hold on the back of your head, hand intertwined in your hair.

It's a surprisingly soft kiss, it makes you want to melt- this is his answer, his reciprocation to your declaration of love. He's too smug to say anything.

Then the both of remain, safe in each others embrace. Your legs are entangled and chest touching the other's, you both relax.

"Love you too herbivore."

It's fleeting words, so soft that you barely heard them and if you did, you're not sure it's reality. As you seem to doze off, there's one thing in your mind. Where else would you go other than his embrace? This was your home.

ᥫ᭡. Azul Ashengrotto ᥫ᭡.

A swindler in the flesh and a contract that binds one to the other. Azul wishes it were that easy, but it's not. The last thing he wishes for is your hatred, you're already wary of him. The interactions he does manage to secure, somehow quite frequently, always render you even more skeptical of him. So guarded and cautious, his reputation's not the best but he isn't a monster, so why are you always scurrying off? Just let him speak, please?

But fate has another plan in mind for you always seem to bump into the swindler that you seem to avoid so- match made in heaven? As if. You won't believe his sweet lies, you won't sign a contract with him- but that's not what it's about. He doesn't wish for a contract, just some of your time.

As your interactions with him increase, you're introduced to very many versions of Azul. Being a swindler was just one part of him, the one that made wary. Nonetheless, he wasn't a monster- quite sweet actually, once you spent the much needed time with him. Words were exchanged, and you were warming up to him, slowly but gradually. Placed on his palm is your trust for safekeeping, you hope he doesn't break it.

As time goes by, you realize the swindler isn't at all what he seems- he has his own walls guarding him, his own insecurities. It's not what you expected, yet it adds to his character- it makes him human, he has a heart. The parts he hides are what attracts you to him- he sees it as a moth to a flame, hiding his failures. Yet, you look at it as a bee to a flower, so dainty a bond but so sweet.

Days go by and you notice how shy he can be, the smallest things can fluster him who seemed so sly. It's endearing, really. Your walls slowly break down, revealing your true person while he allows you to see glimpses of his own self, slow but steady. You don't mind, you both can take your time- walk hand in hand towards trust.

It's another night in his office, spent with him working on contracts. He truly is a hard worker, ambitious too. You admire those qualities, maybe not all the work he does but him as an individual is what you like. You don't seem to notice how the three words roll off your tongue, hand tangled in his locks of gray, seemingly playing with his hair; until you do, in fact, realize.

"Azul, I love you.."

Ink is spilled everywhere, the black coating the table and contracts on it. The pitter patter of the liquid allows him time to realize what you really said.

Those words that spilled of your tongue- so sugary sweet, could it be true? No contract needed, no form of force just his presence alone would suffice? He was enough.

His hand clutched yours tightly, ocean eyes looking up at you from his seat, tears spill from his eyes. He was so vulnerable in that moment, you found his true self as he had found yours. It's a nod from you that shows him that it's not a joke but reality.

"I-I love you too.."

He fumbles the words out too, a faint blush coating his cheeks as he looks away and to the ground. A giggle escapes your lips as you plant a kiss on his cheek.

Maybe the swindler was swindled by your love, except there was no catch- just your love, all for him.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Note 2: Please reblog, even if you don't press like on the post. Reblogs help a ton more!

[mirohlayo]

LITTLE SPOON

( Lando is always the big spoon, so you decided to reverse the roles. )

warning : fluff and fluff and fluff

note : lando who says he never tried to be the little spoon in the chicken shop date video gave me this absolutely cute idea 🥹

word count : 1.3k

It was a pretty busy and stressful day for Lando. Free practice on the Australian circuit was very intense. Despite the fact that these tests went rather well, the fact remains that the curly-haired driver had only been waiting for one thing since this morning: to rest with his girlfriend in his arms.

This day exhausted Lando to the point where he couldn't think of anything other than throwing himself on you and cuddling you until you fell asleep, in each other's arms. The only thing he needs now is to see your pretty face and snuggle up to you.

So, while you were lying on the large double bed that reigned in your hotel room, you absentmindedly watched the television hanging on the wall opposite. You stayed almost all day in the paddock, and more particularly in the garage to support your boyfriend. But the fatigue was much more present and Lando encouraged you to rest at the hotel.

You waited patiently for your lover, because you too knew that he desired your presence just as much as you desired his. And in a fairly short space of time, you see your favorite driver suddenly appear in front of you, leaning against the door frame.

He can't help but smile at the sight of you. He missed seeing your pretty face, and your magnificent smile that you currently wear on your lips. You're just adorable and Lando only wants to cover your face with thousands of kisses.

“Hey baby” He approaches the bed, to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “How did the free practice sessions go?” You ask him curiously, but instead of receiving an answer he places another kiss on your cheek. "I don't want to talk about that. My beautiful girl is here just for me so I want to focus all my attention on her".

He smiles at you like a child, before changing into more comfortable clothes. He then comes back to you again, and without further delay he jumps into bed to take you in his arms. However, you intercept his gesture and step back, leaving him with his arms wide open, empty without the presence of your body.

He frowns, somewhat hurt by your gesture. You give him a comforting smile, before opening your arms too. “Now it’s your turn to be the little spoon.” You nod for him to come and snuggle against your body, but he continues to display a perplexed expression.

"No, I've always been the big spoon. I've never been the little spoon so why should I be now?" He tries to convince you to keep your usual roles, namely you in his arms while he comes to hold you tightly against his chest.

You widen your eyes, surprised. "What? You've never tried to be the little spoon before?" You ask quite surprised. He shakes his head no. "I've always played the role of the big spoon. I prefer it." It's your turn to frown now. "Well it's the perfect time to switch roles. I'm going to be the big spoon and you the little one, okay?"

Lando remains skeptical for a moment, preoccupied with the idea of being the little spoon. He loves having you safe and warm in his arms, being able to hold you a little tighter every minute against him, being able to admire your face as you relax in his embrace. If he becomes the little spoon, he won't be able to do that.

Finally, he shakes his head and leans back, crossing his arms. "No. If I was the little spoon I wouldn't be able to have you in my arms, and I don't like that." You have the impression of seeing him pout and this vision makes you smile stupidly. However, you roll your eyes, exhausted by his perhaps a little too dramatic reactions.

"Baby, if you don't try to be the little spoon you'll never know what it's like to be one. I assure you the feeling is so good, you should really try." You try to make your softest eyes at him to convince him to change his mind. “You could at least do that for your girlfriend right?” You look at him begging.

He stares at you with narrowed eyes, still somewhat skeptical. But your puppy dog face and your desire to hold him are too much for him. He can't resist his girl's desires, because after all, you're the priority and he can never say no to the person he loves most in the world.

He sighs before letting go. “Okay, I can try being the little spoon.” You jump with joy and excitement as he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. You lay back down on the mattress and open your arms again, now forcing him to come into your embrace.

He smiles mischievously at you before finally collapsing into your arms, trying to snuggle as close to your body as he can. Your arms come around and hug him tightly against your body, while he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. His curls tickle the skin of your neck, while you let out some giggle.

After finally finding the most comfortable position, you feel your boyfriend relax in your arms, randomly placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck or on your shoulders. You play with his hair, wrapping a few curls around your finger or lightly pulling on it to make it bounce.

He lets out a small groan of pleasure, nestling a little closer against you, as you gently caress his back. You lower your head to admire him. He really seems like a helpless child, who just needs love and comfort. It's just adorable.

You giggle, which makes him raise his head to look into yours with his beautiful gaze. "What ?" He asks, completely lost. You hold back another laugh. "Nothing. You're just really adorable and cute, baby" He blushes violently at your words, as he nuzzles his head against your neck again to hide his pink cheeks. "C'mon, you don't need to hide. You know I like it when you blush"

He groans again before lifting his head to return his gaze to your face. You place a kiss on his cheek, while his eyes narrow, a sign that he is smiling. “So, do you prefer to be the little spoon or the big spoon ?” You finally ask. He pauses, taking time to think.

"Hmm... The big one. I like feeling you safe and warm in my arms. And what's more, I can admire the beauty of my baby" You raised your eyebrows slightly. “So you don’t like being the little spoon?” "That's not what I said" He said in defense, before diving his head back against your neck.

You end up falling asleep in each other's arms, Lando comfortably ensconced in your embrace as he smiles at the touch of your hand stroking his back and the other coming to play with his hair.

However, what you won't know is that he secretly admits that he loves being the little spoon. To feel your arms around him, to smell your sweet perfume, to feel your gentle caresses and your hands in his hair, to simply feel loved and safe in your arms. He'll never admit it but he loves this feeling more than anything in the world.

So after this day, this change of role, you will find him becoming the little spoon much more often than you thought. He will no longer be able to stop himself from coming to snuggle up against you, from nestling his head in the crook of your neck and leaving hundreds of kisses there, because after all there is no doubt about it : he secretly prefers be the little spoon.

[lymtw]

Late Night Phone Calls

Late night phone calls with Toji where he's practically buzzing at the sound of your voice. Nothing special about the conversation, but there's just something so delicious about the static on the line merging with your voice. You sound kind of tired and you're sighing just enough to drive him a little crazy.

You have a history of having to fight to get him to listen, regardless of how many times he says that he is listening. You test him by asking questions about what you just talked about and he gets a solid 90%. Most of the time...

This time he wasn't getting anything. It's been a couple days since you last went over to Toji's so he was missing you a little more than usual tonight. But, you called later at night like you usually do to tell him about your day. You'll never get over the way he answers the phone with the most spine tingling 'hello' you've ever heard, each time better than the last, save for when you call him after he falls asleep and he answers in that raspy voice that shakes you to your core.

"Toji? Are you still listening?"

"Yeah, keep talking, princess. Tell me everything."

So you keep going because you believe him, only to be interrupted a second time by something that sounds like a quiet groan.

"Toji?"

He takes a second longer to answer this time.

"Mm... yeah, doll?"

"You okay? We can go to sleep if you want. I'll see you tomorrow, anyway."

Toji's hand is wrapped around his cock, pumping it as you keep talking. You're kindly offering an out for this phone call. He must be tired. You think maybe that's why he's not talking as much.

"Don't feel pressured to keep talking. If you're tired, you're tired baby. We have all day tomorrow."

He wants to hear your voice as he keeps going, though. If you knew what was happening, would you judge him or would you egg him on?

"Don't worry about it, mama," he groans. "Just really like the sound of your voice is all. Come on. Talk to me. What else did you do today?"

So you tell him about how you went shopping for a new dress to go out in.

"Wanna see me in it tomorrow? Or should I save it for a more formal date?"

He shudders, his abs quivering as he focuses on collecting the pearls of precum that endlessly form on his tip and smearing it all over his shaft. You have him thinking about the last time you wore a dress around him. It ended up being bunched up at your waist as he fucked the soul out of you in the men's bathroom of a restaurant.

"Think you should..." he pauses and clears his throat, muttering an unintelligible curse away from the phone. He's seconds away from cumming all over himself. "Save it for when I can take you out... we're staying in," he pants. "I'm gonna fuck you tomorrow, doll. You won't be able to walk anywhere."

Your face goes so red, and you can't help but giggle to yourself despite the rush of nerves that invaded your body.

"Gonna be good for me, right? You're gonna sleep over and let me play with your pretty self?"

At this point you feel like rolling off your bed to cool yourself down on the cold floor.

"Of course, Toji. I'm all yours."

You can hear heavy breathing laced with the static on the line.

"Oh fuck... say that again, princess. Again for me."

You've caught on to this freak's game. So you do what you can to make him drip like honey.

"All yours, Toji. Yours to fuck, yours to choke, yours to gag. I'll let you have your way with me tomorrow." You grin as you hear the muffled moans on the other end. "You can put it whereeever you want and i'll take it for you. Just promise you'll fill me up, yeah?"

With that Toji cums so hard that he's rocking his hips against the mattress, his back arching in pleasure and a barrage of expletives are released. He sounds strangled, out of breath on the other end, and all you can do is laugh at the silence that takes over the line. You know he's laying there with his eyes closed, trying to come back to reality.

"You dead, baby?"

"Fuck you," he says, breathlessly, a lazy grin on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow, baby. Better not be lying 'bout what you said earlier."

"Goodnight~"

[crazy-pages]

I'm going to throw my two cents in to the conversation about why James Somerton didn't get caught earlier. Part of the answer is of course that he did get caught, he just bullied and lied to get away with it for a while, but I know a lot of people still express confusion. And of course he went out of his way to make sure his audience didn't know about other queer history sources other than himself. But still. How could he have so many viewers of his videos and none of them had seen X source material?

Well. To be blunt, most of his videos were pretty basic. He tended to copy the highlights of what he was plagiarizing, not the really advanced stuff. And insofar as he copied the advanced stuff, he had a tendency to chop it up and serve it out of context alongside other plagiarized work. The material he was presenting was revolutionary to an audience unfamiliar with queer history, but like. I'm guessing 'Disney villains are queer coded' is not exactly a new concept to the kind of people who read multiple books about queer coding in film.

Now I'm not a film studies person, I'm a physicist. But you know what I do when I get a video in my YouTube recommendations about some fairly basic physics concept?

I skip it. No shade to the creator, but like. I hit that topic a decade ago and I've added literally thousands of hours of studying and research to my brain since. I'm just going to give it a pass, all right?

These kinds of videos self-select for an audience which isn't going to be familiar with the source material. The people who know it are unlikely to keep listening after the first minute or so.

And you've got to remember how much of this content the experts have consumed! With very few exceptions for weird little things that stuck in my head after all these years, I would probably not notice a physics explanation plagiarized from one of my textbooks! Not because I wasn't intimately acquainted with the textbook, but because I was intimately acquainted with many such textbooks. Spend enough time learning this stuff and it all blurs together a little bit. Does this explanation sound familiar because you've heard it before, or because you've just read books which cover this specific topic seven different times? And does that wording or that example ring a bell because it's plagiarized, or because it's common to the field?

Catching this kind of plagiarism requires having the kind of people who are already familiar with these sources, and therefore uninterested in video summaries on the topic, to watch the video. And among those people who do, it requires them to match Somerton's words to one specific source on the topic out of many, that they probably read quite some time ago. And then you have the filter of how many of those subject matter experts have the source on hand to check, to turn a vague "...hmm" into something solid.

If you know enough about queer history to say that some of his plagiarism was obvious, now that you've watched the video, then you should remember that there is a reason you probably weren't one of the people watching his videos! And because YouTube promotes videos through algorithmic engagement, none of this stuff has to pass the sniff test for any other expert in the field before it gets released. No experts have to like it for it to get published or for it to get good reviews or for it to get a recommendation in, I don't know, the New York Times.

The only people who have to like the videos for them to get traction are people who are just trying to learn introductory queer history and film theory. The exact people who aren't going to notice this. And for those of you who to whom it is obvious, ask yourself. When was the last time you watched a basic level queer history introduction on YouTube?

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

I just read your post about reader being a total badass when another girl is trying to take her man, can we get a reverse one? Where reader is being flirted with?

Seriously it was so good!

In which, the MHA boys react to the reader being flirted with.

Characters included: Dabi (Touya Todoroki), Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Tomura Shigaraki, Izuku Midoriya, Hitoshi Shinso, Hanta Sero.

Dabi (Touya Todoroki)

The bar was packed, the air thick with smoke and whiskey. You were leaning against the counter in a black minidress, waiting for your drink, when some random guy slid up beside you.

"Hey, sweetheart," he smirked. "What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I have a boyfriend, fuck off.”

“That’s what they all say. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?” he continued with a sly grin, placing a hand on top of yours.

You didn’t even get a chance to respond before a strong, scarred arm looped around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest.

Dabi.

His voice was low. "Alone?" He chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "That’s cute."

The guy hesitated, realizing who you were. Everyone knew that Dabi was the most wanted S-class villain. His amber eyes flicking between you and Dabi. "I didn’t realize—"

"Yeah, you didn’t." Dabi tilted his head, blue flames sparking at his fingertips. "Start running."

The guy? Gone in seconds.

Dabi kissed your neck, chuckling. "I love scaring off idiots. You’re fun bait, doll."

Katsuki Bakugo

It was a normal day at the gym—until some dumbass decided today was the day to test Bakugo’s patience.

You were warming up, minding your business, when some cocky asshole strolled up. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to you, clearly checking you out.

"Wow," he whistled, looking you up and down. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Because damn, you’re—"

Before he could finish, a handful of explosions went off beside him, making him stumble back with a yell.

Katsuki stood there, arms crossed, eyes blazing with fury.

"The hell you just say to my girl, dickwad?" His eyes were narrowed, boring holes into the other guy’s soul. Wow, Katsuki sure was hot when he was so protective over you.

“Woah there man—” The guy backed away slowly, turning around and speedwalking out of the area.

Katsuki grabbed your wrist, pulling you close. "Ya good, dollface? He touch you?”

You smirked. "Jealous much?"

"Shut up," he grumbled, but his grip on you didn’t loosen.

Shoto Todoroki

It was a simple coffee run, or at least it was supposed to be. Shoto was at the counter, waiting for both of your orders while you sat in one of the booths, scrolling mindlessly on your phone.

Without warning, some smooth-talking guy slid into the seat beside you. "Hey," he smiled, "Mind if I join you?"

Before you could answer, two cups of coffee were placed before you. “I mind.”

You tilted your chin up to meet Shoto’s mismatched eyes. "You’re flirting with my girlfriend." His tone was calm but you could tell that he was annoyed. The air around you had become cold, something that happened whenever someone managed to push your boyfriend’s buttons.

The guy blinked. "Uh—"

Shoto didn't even look at him. He slid into the seat next to you. Interlocking your fingers. "I don’t share," he murmured.

The guy practically tripped over himself leaving.

“Sho.” You giggled, looking at him.

Shoto sipped his coffee like nothing happened. "Yes, love?”

Hanta Sero

The two of you were at an arcade, laughing as you played games together, until some guy decided to interrupt. He was tall, decked in all black and had a flirtatious smile.

"Hey," he grinned, stepping between you and Hanta. "I’ve been watching you for a while… maybe I could get your number?”

Hanta stood infront of you, blocking you from the other guy’s sight.

"Oh, for sure," he said with a sly grin, right before launching a strand of tape at the guy. Who barely had time to react before he was yanked backward, stuck against the wall, arms pinned to his sides. “What the heck man?”

Hanta wrapped an arm around your shoulder, still grinning. "Oops. Looks like you’re busy."

You giggled. "You’re evil."

"Only when people try to steal my girl."

Eijiro Kirishima

You and Eijiro were strolling through the festival, the glow of lanterns reflecting in his bright red eyes as you both enjoyed the sights and food stalls. The night was perfect—until some overconfident idiot decided to ruin it.

"Hey there hot stuff," the guy smirked, stepping a little too close. "Why don’t you ditch the kid and have a real man show you a good time?"

Your red-head boyfriend stopped mid-bite of his takoyaki. Slowly, he turned to face the guy, a sharp grin stretching across his face.

"Hey, man," he said, cracking his knuckles as his quirk activated with a sickening crunch. His fists hardened into razor-sharp stone, glinting under the festival lights. “What are your intentions?”

The guy paled, taking a cautious step back. "Dude, chill, I was just—"

"Just…?” Eijiro tilted his head. The guy nodded furiously before bolting into the crowd. You started laughing, holding onto your stomach as you doubled over.

Kirishima sighed, turning back to you with a pout. "Babe, do I really not look scary? I thought I was at least a little intimidating."

You tried to hold back a laugh but failed. "Eiji, you’re too adorable to be scary."

His jaw dropped. "Too adorable? Babe, I literally just made a guy run for his life!"

You grinned, poking his cheek. "Exactly. Cute, but effective."

Eijiro groaned, dramatically dragging a hand down his face. "Man, this is terrible for my reputation."

But he still laced his fingers with yours, grinning as he led you toward the next food stall—because honestly? He’d rather be your cute boyfriend than be scary any day.

Tomura Shigaraki

The Villain’s Den was loud, pulsing with heavy bass and neon lights. The club was a known hotspot for the worst of the worst—rogue assassins, yakuza, underground black-market dealers. It was the kind of place where rules didn’t exist, where people only stepped on each other’s toes if they wanted a death wish.

You were sitting at the bar, sipping on something strong and expensive, watching the dance floor where bodies grinded together, the flashing red and blue lights reflecting in their hungry eyes.

Shigaraki was next to you, one arm slung lazily over the back of your stool, his other hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey. He wasn’t much for crowds, but he tolerated them when it meant keeping an eye on you.

It was almost peaceful.

A cocky-looking bastard slid into the stool beside you, his breath reeking of liquor and weed. He was built like someone who thought he was untouchable—broad shoulders, expensive rings on his fingers, tattoos from head to toe.

He looked at you like you were something to win.

"Didn’t expect to see someone as fine as you in a place like this," he drawled, tilting his head. "What do you say I buy you a drink, huh? Lose the zombie-lookin’ guy and come have a good time."

Before you could rip him apart yourself, a scarred hand landed on your thigh, fingers slipping just under the material of your crimson minidress.  Tomura didn’t look up. Didn’t need to.

"Touch her again," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music, but somehow more chilling than the bass drop. "And I’ll make sure they’re scraping your remains off the floor by morning."

The guy hesitated. He turned to look at Shigaraki properly, taking in the red-rimmed eyes, the baby blue, almost white hair, the twisted smile and the slow, casual way he tapped his thumb against his glass.

Realization hit.

The color drained from the guy’s face. He swallowed hard. "Shit, man—I didn’t know it was—"

"You do now." Shigaraki’s fingers flexed, his grip tightening just enough to send a very clear message. The guy stood up immediately.

He pushed off the stool so fast it nearly tipped over, bolting into the sea of criminals like he could outrun death itself.

You sighed, sipping your drink. "Tomu.” You whined. “You’re no fun. I was kinda hoping you’d let me handle that one."

He finally turned his attention to you. His fingers brushed higher up your thigh, his other hand setting his empty glass down with a soft thunk.

"You okay?"

You smirked. "That was kinda hot."

A deep, amused chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Damn right it was."

Izuku Midoriya

The All Might-themed merch store was bright, filled with limited-edition action figures, posters, and collectibles. You and Izuku were wandering through the aisles, fingers intertwined as he excitedly rambled about the latest All Might figurine that had just been released. His eyes were practically glowing as he pointed at the details, completely in his element.

You loved seeing him like this.

A random stranger, dressed in a cocky grin and an oversized jacket, strolled right up to you. "What’s cookin, good lookin’?," he purred, completely ignoring Izuku standing right beside you.

You blinked. Seriously?

Izuku, mid-sentence, froze. The guy leaned against the shelf, flashing you what he probably thought was a charming smile. "How about you ditch the nerd and come get a coffee with me?"

Izuku’s eyes darkened. His usual soft expression shifted into something serious.  "Excuse me," he said, shoulders squaring as he stepped in front of you. His voice was calm—too calm. "She’s with me."

The guy laughed, clearly underestimating him. "Relax, dude. I’m just saying she could do better than some fanboy who—"

Izuku moved so fast the guy didn’t see it coming.

The entire shelf behind him rattled, a gust of air bursting through the store as Izuku’s foot lightly tapped against the floor. He hadn’t even used his full strength—just enough to shake the ground beneath them.

The guy stumbled, eyes wide. "Wh-what the hell?"

Izuku didn’t even blink. Didn’t move. Just looked him dead in the eye. "You were saying?" The guy bolted.

Izuku let out a small breath, turning back to you. The moment his eyes met yours, his serious expression melted, a sheepish smile replacing it. "Sorry about that," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

You smirked. "Wow, Izu. That was kinda hot."

Izuku turned bright red. "D-Don’t say stuff like that!"

You just laughed, lacing your fingers with his again. "C’mon, fanboy. Show me more of these All Might figures."

Izuku, still blushing, happily obliged.

Denki Kaminari

The arcade was loud, packed with people, flashing lights, and the sounds of game machines beeping wildly. You and Denki were on a date night, sharing a bucket of popcorn while he tried (and failed) to beat you at air hockey.

"I swear you’re cheating," he pouted as you scored another point. You smirked, twirling the paddle in your hand. "I don’t need to cheat to beat you, baby."

Denki groaned. "Ouch, but again… why’s that kinda hot?."

Before you could serve again, a random dude appeared at your side, looking far too smug for someone who hadn’t been invited.

"Hey," he said, completely ignoring Denki. "I saw you playing and had to come over. You’re pretty good. Bet you’d have more fun playing against me... or maybe, with me?"

Denki froze. Then, ever so slowly, he turned his head toward the guy, blinking like he’d just heard the dumbest thing in existence.

You sighed, already unamused. "No thanks. I’m here with my boyfriend."

The guy didn’t even react. "What, the walking pikachu? He doesn’t seem like much competition."

Oh. Oh, that was a mistake.

Denki let out a low whistle, tossing his paddle onto the table. "Bro. That’s crazy," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, I could fry your nervous system in a second, but hey, points for confidence."

The guy visibly tensed but tried to play it off cool. “You’re bluffing.”

Denki grinned, leaning in slightly. His fingers sparked. "Am I?”

A tiny bolt of electricity shot from his fingertips, buzzing through the air right past the guy’s ear. Not enough to hurt—just enough to remind him what quirks existed.

The guy bolted.

Denki laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Man, you really attract the idiots, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "You jealous?"

Denki pouted. "Maybe."

You kissed his cheek. "Don’t be. You’re the only idiot I like."

He beamed. "Damn right I am."

Hitoshi Shinso

It was late at night, and you and Hitoshi were sitting outside a small ramen shop, enjoying the quiet hum of the city. The neon lights flickered, casting soft purple and blue hues against his face as he lazily stirred his noodles.

You loved moments like these—just the two of you, no distractions, no expectations.

Until some jackass decided to ruin it.

A man—cocky, unbothered, and absolutely unaware of what he was walking into—slid into the empty seat beside you.

"Hey," he said, flashing you a grin. "Are your parents beavers? Cause damn!"

You stared at him. Hitoshi did not react.

"You know," the guy continued, completely oblivious to the danger he was in, "a pretty thing like you shouldn’t waste time with a guy who looks like he hasn’t slept in ten years."

Hitoshi, mid-bite, finally blinked. He set his chopsticks down slowly, exhaling through his nose before resting his chin on his palm.

"Oh?" His voice was smooth. "That’s funny."

The guy smirked. "What is?"

Hitoshi just tilted his head, purple eyes glowing slightly. "That you think you have a chance."

And then, before the guy could react, Hitoshi activated his quirk.

"Be a good little idiot," he commanded, his voice low, silky, lethal. "And leave."

The guy’s face went blank. He stood up immediately, turning on his heel and walking straight into the street, disappearing into the night like a puppet on strings.

You snorted. "That was overkill."

Hitoshi hummed, taking another bite of his ramen. "I could’ve made him trip into a dumpster."

You smirked. "Now that would’ve been hot."

Hitoshi chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re ridiculous."

"But you love me."

He sighed dramatically, giving you a lazy grin. "Yeah, yeah. Lucky me."

[azuredawn81]

could you please write a jack hughes x reader? just like cute domestic fluff nothing fancy ♡

picket fence | jack hughes x fem!reader

♡ summary: in a spur of the moment decision, jack and his girlfriend y/n get married without telling anyone.

♡ pairing: jack hughes x reader

♡ content: fluff, jack being jack

♡ word count: 1K

♡ warnings: none

♡ italics are flashbacks

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“do you think your mom will be mad?” she asked, staring up at jack.

“oh for sure.”

“do you think my mom will be mad?”

“can’t say. never met her.”

he picked her up bridal style and walked to the car. her white cocktail dress creasing a little as he set her down on the passenger seat.

“i can’t believe how lucky i am.”

“i think i’m the lucky one.”

“nah.”

“no, i married the super hot, talented hockey player. there’s millions of girls who would kill to be me.”

“y/n, i’m the lucky one. i’ve met so many people, but you’re special. you’re like a hidden gem. my gem.”

“you’re such a sap.”

“not usually, only when given a good reason.”

he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “like you.”

────୨ৎ────

“i don’t know how you do it. i mean, you’re so fast out on the ice.”

he took one hand of the wheel and took hers. “practice, baby. lots of practice.”

“you must practice a lot.”

“y/n, of course i practice a lot.”

“i realize that now.”

“so silly. what a silly girl.”

“i can’t help it. i can’t think around hot guys.”

“interesting you mention that, because i can’t think around pretty girls.”

he just kept driving, focused on the road. only a few minutes until they were back home.

“jack?”

“yeah?”

“i love you.”

“love you too, sweetheart.”

he put the car in park and went around to open the door for y/n.

“you’re so pretty.”

“so are you.”

jack cupped her face and gently pressed his lips to hers. it was a sweet kiss, different from the ones they typically shared. there was no urgency, no frenzied urges. just y/n. just jack. just the moon in the newark sky.

“you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, y/n.”

“jack… that’s so sweet.”

“i mean it.”

“we just started dating a few months ago.”

“seven.”

“i’m sure better things have happened.”

“nah. you’re it for me, y/n.”

“what?”

“marry me.”

“WHAT???”

“what, did you want someone else to ask?”

“no, i mean, it’s so soon-”

“yes or no, baby.”

“what if you realize you don’t love me?”

“not happening.”

“but jack-”

“trust me, love.”

────୨ৎ────

their little house was a cute two story in the suburbs of newark. close enough to the prudential center for jack, while also being in a good area for any and all future kids they would have. there was a park just down the street with a big open field and a playground. jack tested the slides himself.

the house itself was perfect. a nice backyard with a shed for y/n’s garden supplies and a trampoline the previous owner’s left. an open floor kitchen with an island, a cutesy chandelier in the dining room, a marble mantle on the fireplace. the garage was big enough for their two cars and the bikes jack had bought “just because”. every room in the house had been decorated by a somewhat bored y/n, with plants and paintings in every room. her favorite piece was the courthouse picture of her and jack, framed above the fireplace.

“so this is home now,” jack said, watching his wife (!!!) fluff the pillows on the couch.

“we always had a home. just now it’s a building too.”

“i love you so much.”

“i love you more.”

“nah,” he picked her up and placed her on his lap, “i love you the most.”

she nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “i love you times infinity.”

“you’re supposed to let me win,” he said with a pout.

“have you heard the phrase ‘happy wife, happy life’?”

“happy jack, happy f-”

“that’s enough.”

they kissed again, perfectly content in each other’s company.

────୨ৎ────

“jacky?”

“yes, baby?”

“i need a white dress.”

“how come?”

“you asked me to marry you!”

“i knew that.”

“you’re terrible.”

“you love me.”

“i do.”

he kissed her, his hands weaving through the strands of her hair.

“c’mon baby, let’s go find you a dress.”

────୨ৎ────

y/n tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep. jack had been gone for the past couple of days for a series of road games. and to make matters worse, her mom had called.

“y/n, your father and i would like to meet that boyfriend of yours. what was his name? jake?”

“jack.”

“yes, jack. that’s the one. is he around?”

“no, mom. business trip.”

“what does he do again?”

“y/n?”

“please be something respectable.”

“he’s a hockey player.”

“that’s not sustainable. he won’t make that much mo-”

“yes, he will. he plays for the devils.”

“excuse me?”

“jack hughes.”

“your boyfriend is jack hughes?”

“no. my husband is jack hughes.”

“husband?”

“we got married a few weeks ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?”

“it was a sudden thing.”

“we’ve never met the guy.”

“i’m sorry, mom.”

“i didn’t raise you to be like this.”

she just needed jack to crawl into bed, to hold her the way he held her every night, his arms around her waist, his face buried into the crook of her neck.

but he was in chicago. almost 800 miles away.

────୨ৎ────

“baby? i’m home!”

jack closed the front door and set his bag down.

“y/n?”

she poked her head out from the bedroom.

“jack?”

he ran to her, sliding a little on the wooden floor. jack picked her up, spinning her.

“i missed you, baby.”

“i missed you more, jacky.”

he pressed his nose to hers. “you look sad.”

“me? no.”

“y/n.”

“what?”

“can’t help if you don’t talk.”

“my mom called.”

“what’d she say?”

“she’s disappointed.”

“how come?”

“probably because i married a pro hockey player without her knowing.”

“yeah that’ll do it.”

y/n buried her face in his chest. “she’s pissed.”

“maybe we should visit?”

“maybe. for now though, you owe me cuddles.”

“what??? since when???”

“since you left your wife alone in the middle of december.”

“alright, alright. lead the way mrs hughes.”

tags: @verycoolusername1 @tomskookie @dream-girl06 @skepvids @devilinpradaheels @r0wdymaize86

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[goldfades]

blurb based of joes frustration at the end of the game pretty plzzzzz

it’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, jaw tight, eyes stormy, the weight of a thousand unspoken words pressing against the set of his mouth. but tonight feels different. sharper, maybe. rawer. his shoulders slump as he sinks onto the edge of the couch, the post-game silence clinging to him like an ill-fitted coat.

you don’t say anything at first, because what’s there to say? you know better than to try and fill the cracks with empty words—he’d see right through you anyway. instead, you linger in the doorway, arms crossed loosely, studying the way his hands rub at his face, frustration bleeding through the spaces between his fingers.

“rough one,” you offer finally, voice quiet, testing. it’s not much, but it’s something.

he doesn’t look at you, just shakes his head in that way that’s less no and more don’t even start.

“joey—”

“not tonight.” his voice cuts across the room, low and strained, and it stings more than you care to admit. not because he’s angry—it’s not the first time the aftermath of a loss has made him short—but because he won’t let you help carry the weight. he never does.

you hesitate, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. you could leave him to stew in his own misery, give him the space he seems to want so badly.

but then again, that’s never been your style.

you push off the doorframe, making your way toward him despite the tension crackling like static in the room. the air feels heavier with every step, but you don’t stop until you’re standing right in front of him. he still doesn’t look up, but you can feel the heat of his frustration radiating off him, see it in the way his leg bounces like a drumbeat he can’t silence.

“i’m not trying to fix it,” you say, your tone soft but steady, letting the words settle between you. “i just don’t want you sitting here drowning in it alone.”

his hands drop to his lap, and finally, finally, his eyes meet yours. they’re tired, bloodshot, and edged with something sharp enough to cut. “i don’t need a pep talk,” he mutters, his voice a low rasp. “i know what went wrong. i don’t need anyone telling me how to feel about it.”

“good thing i’m not here to give you one,” you reply, easing yourself down onto the couch beside him. close, but not too close. it’s a delicate dance, one you’ve learned to navigate over time. “but i am here. whether you like it or not.”

his gaze flickers to you for a moment, a brief flash of something softer breaking through the storm before he looks away again. he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, head dropping into his hands. “it’s just… god, it’s so fucking frustrating.” the words come out ragged, pulled from somewhere deep and aching. “i know we’re better than this. i know i’m better than this. but tonight… it felt like nothing i did was good enough.”

there’s a beat of silence, heavy and loaded. you let it hang there for a moment before leaning back against the couch, your head tilting slightly as you watch him. “you ever think that maybe it’s not all on you?”

his head snaps up at that, and you can see the protest forming on his lips before he even says a word. “it is on me,” he argues, voice sharper now, cutting through the quiet. “that’s my job. that’s what being the quarterback means. i’m supposed to lead, supposed to—”

“supposed to be perfect?” you cut in, raising a brow.

the question hangs in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw working like he’s trying to find the right words to throw back at you. but then he exhales, the fight draining out of him just as quickly as it flared up.

“it’s not about being perfect,” he says finally, quieter now, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. “it’s about…” he trails off, his hands running through his hair in a way that makes it stick up in every direction. “fuck, i don’t know. i just hate losing.”

“i know.” your voice softens, the sharp edges smoothing out as you reach over to nudge his shoulder gently with yours. “but it’s not just about tonight, is it?”

he doesn’t answer right away, but the silence says enough. you know how he gets—how the losses pile up in his mind, not just the ones on the field but the ones in his own head. every missed pass, every fumble, every moment where the weight of the world feels like it’s on his back. it’s not fair, but he carries it anyway, like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

“you’re allowed to be mad,” you say eventually, your voice low but firm. “you’re allowed to be frustrated, to hate losing, to feel like shit about it. but you don’t have to shoulder all of it alone. that’s what i’m here for, joey.”

he doesn’t say anything, but the way his shoulders drop just a fraction tells you he’s listening. you reach out, your hand finding his on the couch between you, your fingers brushing lightly against his knuckles. it’s a small gesture, but it feels like enough.

for now, at least.

his hand shifts on the couch, brushing against yours for just a second before he grabs it. firm, almost desperate. it’s a small move, but it catches you off guard—joe’s never been one to reach out like this, not when he’s all wrapped up in his head. but then he’s tugging you toward him, his grip strong enough to make it clear he’s not letting go anytime soon.

he doesn’t say a word as he pulls you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. the hug is tight—bone-crushing, really—but you don’t mind. if anything, it tells you just how much he’s been holding back.

“i hate this,” he mutters against your skin, his voice muffled but no less raw. “i hate feeling like this. like i let everyone down. like i’m not good enough.”

“joey…” you start, but he shakes his head against you, cutting you off before you can say anything else.

“just—let me get it out, okay?” his words come fast, tumbling over each other like they’ve been bottled up too long. “the offense couldn’t get going. the o-line was all over the place. and me? i was fucking useless out there. missing reads, throwing late… i don’t know what the hell was wrong with me tonight.”

you don’t interrupt, don’t try to argue with him or tell him he’s being too hard on himself. you know better than to try and fix it for him, not when he’s like this. instead, you just hold him tighter, your hand moving to his back to rub slow, soothing circles.

when he finally pulls back, it’s only to sink down onto the couch, pulling you with him until you’re lying back against the cushions. he rests his head on your chest, his weight pressing into you in a way that feels grounding, like he’s letting himself find a moment of peace in the chaos.

your hands move without thinking, running up and down his arm in that slow, rhythmic way you know he likes. it’s a small thing, but it’s enough to make his breathing even out, the tension in his body easing bit by bit.

“it’s not all on you,” you say quietly, your voice breaking the quiet that’s settled over the room. “you know that, right?”

he doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you think maybe he’s fallen asleep. but then he shifts, turning his face into your shirt, his voice muffled but steady. “i know. i just… i can’t help feeling like it is sometimes.”

“you don’t have to carry it all, joey,” you murmur, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his arm. “that’s why you’ve got a team. that’s why you’ve got me.”

he doesn’t respond, but the way he relaxes against you says enough. and as the silence stretches on, the only sound his slow, steady breathing, you let yourself hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll let himself believe it, too.

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[sunniques]

OMG YES MANIPULATIVE PROFESSOR WONWOO

— teacher’s pet

cw/tw: degradation, manipulation, yandere themes, dubcon, oral sex (m), riding, unprotected sex, creampie

“God, you’re just a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

Your eyes are teary as you gaze up at your professor. It’s not that you were purposely trying to fail his class. In fact, you spent hours studying and trying your hardest to understand the material. You thought this time you’d be able to pass the test without Wonwoo’s help, but once again you had overestimated your abilities.

“S-Sorry.” You mewl out as your professor slaps his cock against your cheek. His precum smears across your face as you keep eye contact. “I tried my best. I swear.”

He knows you did. You’re such a good girl that you went out and studied so hard that you got a nearly perfect score. But you can’t know that. This lovely fantasy he has going will come to an abrupt end if you find out you don’t need him to pass, and that can’t happen.

“I know, sweetheart. Can’t help that your dumb little brain just thinks about cock all day.”

Wonwoo groans when you lean forward to take his dick into your mouth. You greedily lap up his precum, eager to placate him and make him forgive you. Your soft tongue caresses his slit as you deep throat him.

“Fucking shit.” Wonwoo hisses. “That’s it, baby. Keep sucking my cock.”

You do. You keep sucking and licking his cock until he’s shooting his cum down your throat. As always, you swallow it hungrily, wanting nothing more than to please your professor.

Wonwoo’s eyes are dark as he pulls you on his lap. He presses a messy kiss on your lips, loving how you taste mixed with him. Guilt and remorse are things he can’t feel when it comes to the situation. You love being his little cumdump, and he loves how much you love it.

“Show me how sorry you are, sweetheart.” Wonwoo groans as you sink down on his big cock.

Imediately, you start to bounce on him, fucking yourself on his dick like it’s all you care about. You’re moaning and whining so prettily, crying out his name as his weeping tip reaches a spot inside you that no other man has ever touched.

Your pretty tits are bouncing in his face, and Wonwoo can’t stop himself from taking one of your hard nipples in his mouth. He groans around the sensitive bud, tongue swirling and flicking it before he nips on the sensitive skin with his teeth. You tighten around him, staining his cock with your arousal. It makes him grab your ass to help you fuck his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart. If only you were as good at my class as you are at riding this dick.” Wonwoo growls as he starts to thrust up into you.

You moan loudly, not caring that anyone could walk by his office and hear what you two are doing. The back of your eyelids are painted with stars, and all you can focus on is the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Cum inside me! Please!”

Wonwoo smirks at how needy you sound. He really has turned you into the perfect little cockslut.

“Shit, baby. You’re lucky you’re my favorite student.” Wonwoo groans as he starts to fuck up into your hot cunt. “Can’t ever say no to creaming in your tight little pussy.”

His words trigger your orgasm, and all you can do is chant a string of thank you’s like the mindless slut you are. Your hips keep moving until you feel your professor shoot his sticky cum inside you. It soothes the ache you’ve felt since you met him, but you know it won’t be long before it returns. Luckily, your professor is kind enough to help you through it all.

[dulaglutide]

Hello! Can I request some scenarios with yandere! Uppermoons (+ Hantengu’s clones)(separate) where reader who’s well behaved and asks them if she can take a walk by herself outside? The demons think she’s planning an escape so they secretly stalk her only to she her just gathering flowers to decorate the hideout/infinity castle with. (Maybe she notices them and just says; “Pretty aren’t they?” Idk-) I apologize if this is too many characters!

Yandere! Uppermoons x behaved fem reader!

(I did all of the uppermoons except for Daki, Gyutaro, and Gyokko because I don’t know how to write them) (Sorry if some of them don’t sound that yandere like) Warnings: swearing, sexual themes (Karaku), one mention of a cult (Douma), one mention of the words “good girl” (Karaku)

Kokushibo

He will not like this idea one bit

Since your so well behaved though he will let you go outside just to see if he can still trust you

When you go a little far he will watch you from afar seeing if you try to run

But when he sees you playing in and looking at flowers he is in shock

Why don’t you try to run? Maybe you do really love him? What if it’s a trick?

All of those possibilities were going through his head

But when you saw him and waved with the biggest smile on your face he just melted on the inside

He really chose the right person

Douma

He will say yes to see if you end up playing a game of cat and mouse

He loves chasing you then punishing you after

But he hasn’t needed to punish you in so long due to your well behavior

He wants to see if it was a trick the whole time so he takes you outside holding your hand and tells you not to go far

Well……you went a little far but you made sure you could get back and he could find you

He would be following you the whole time waiting until he can catch you and scare you

But when he hears you giggling at a rabbit you found he’s in awe

When you went back the way you came and back to the cult house he was so proud

Now you get to go outside more sue to how loyal you proved you are

Now you can escape much easier

Akaza

In that moment he almost snapped at you saying no once you asked but he stopped himself

This would be a good time to test your loyalty

Wouldn’t it?

He let you go outside and saw how happy you were to be in the out doors finally after so many years

He really didn’t want you to be alone due to the fact you might run and he didn’t want to deal with that today

But he left you alone

He was really watching you from a tree but what’s the difference

Once you started making a flower crown he was surprised and proud at the same time

You knew he was in the tree so you looked at him in the eyes, smiled, and said “thank you”

He knew he could trust you more now

Get out of there

Sekido

He will look at you like you have lost your fucking mind

But he ends up letting you go outside because he felt like it

You were well behaved and listened to everything he said so he had a little bit of hope that you wouldn’t run away because he doesn’t wanna deal with that shit

He will follow you and if you start to run away you will get electrocuted and back to square one when you were first kidnapped

When you stop walking and sit by a tree and just look up at the stars he’s surprised but thankful omg he isn’t angry for once

You ended up falling asleep on the tree so he picked you up and carried you back home

You just earned more of his trust

Karaku

He won’t be surprised that you wanted to go outside

Since you have been a good girl he will allow you to go outside and have fun

He warned you that if you ran off to far that there would be punishments

He followed you of course but you didn’t know he was there

You were playing in a flower field just dancing with the smile he loved so much

He was thinking about how much he wanted to fuck you those flowers loves you

Hearing your happy voice made him happy so now it is a daily routine for him to let you go outside (at night of course we can’t have you running away now)

He fucked you in the flowers because he couldn’t resist

Aizetsu

He would be very scared to let you go outside

But you have been very sweet and kind to him for a while now after your kidnapping

He let you go in the backyard of the little house in the woods and watched you from the window

You were sitting there staring at the stars kicking you feet back and forth

You knew he was watching you from the window so you waved your hand for him to come outside

He was slightly happy that you were asking him to do such a thing

He was so happy with how obedient you have become

Urogi (I am obsessed with his voice)

Urogi already takes you outside to fly with him

He will always hold you close so you can’t move much

But one night you wanted to go alone….

Urogi didn’t like that much

He thought you were going to try to leave him

He allowed you to only because of how good you have been lately

He followed you though making sure you pulled no tricks

He was very upset and mad that you wanted to go alone

He became more possessive because of that

[gravedwe11er]

Some more texaid for the @keferon mecha au! Comes after part one and part two, though it can be read on its own with just the knowledge of the AU itself.

Cw: Vortex, a bit of innuendo and semi-graphic descriptions of violence and death

A new point of view on recent happenings in the shatterdome, and also Felix.

Or: Vortex is here, and he has Opinions.

Vortex really likes Felix.

Has liked him ever since he saw this quiet, boring-looking little doc sneak around the base at night, and instead of going to hook up with someone - like a normal fucking person would - breaking into the research lab and messing with quint corpses. At first, he thought it might have been an op of some sort, but no! The guy just really liked cutting the things apart. Which- Tex could relate, honestly.

Seeing Felix bumbling about in the dark and excitedly muttering to himself through the cams quickly became the highlight of his mind-numbingly boring days. And then, to absolutely no surprise, the man got himself caught, and things went from good to great real fast.

As he watches little Mr. First Aid dig dried blood out of his crevices, with a stolen butter knife of all things, he really has to applaud himself for how well it all turned out.

Here’s one thing about Vortex – he likes violence. Always has - it’s one of the very few fun things that was never in short supply during his life, and the same goes for his after-life. And now that his other sources of entertainment are largely, hah, dead in the water? He very much likes to indulge.

Despite that, the first pilot he killed actually was a complete accident. He’d been pretty freshly dead, floundering around in his new body, when whatever control he’d manage to wrangle from the mech had been ripped out from under his hands. In his horrified flailing, he somehow managed to jerk the guy’s seat so hard he cracked his skull open on the console, and that was that. Only once he felt his death throes through the neural link had Vortex even realized what had happened.

And fuck, was he livid! Now, let’s be honest, Tex could absolutely get behind some rough manhandling of his person in the right situations, but this was outright violating! And like hell was he just going to put up with it.

Here’s another thing about Vortex – he hates being told what to do. And gee-whiz, it really doesn’t get any more being-told-what-to-do than some tiny fuck crawling into what is now your actual head and moving you around like an overgrown puppet.

So, he kept pushing. The next few casualties were only partly accidental, him testing out his range of motion, so to speak. And once he figured out how to establish himself as the dominant consciousness in the mech, even with a pilot plugged in-

Hah, let’s just say they definitely weren’t accidents after that.

It was part spite, part entertainment, and part just wanting those bastards out, their minds grating against his consciousness and giving him the closest thing he has to a headache nowadays. And what fun it was! He’d never really gotten to kill people before, not on purpose at least – his minders always kept him on too tight a leash - and damn was it great to see those uppity little shits turn to red mush in his gears.

For a while, at least. Look, he’s a creative guy, but there’s only so many ways to kill a person with no opposable thumbs available for the job! Not to mention, he was sorta hoping they’d get the hint eventually. He thought if he showed his ability to function on his own and his inability to tolerate pilots, they’d kinda just- leave him to it.

But of course not – that would require those bastards in command to actually give a shit about their people. They never did while he was under their tender care either, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. Kinda stupid of him actually, but excuse him, he’d, hah, rather recently lost all his braincells. Still, it was a problem he needed to figure out.

Then the solution waltzed into his cockpit, first aid kit in hand and doing his darndest to resuscitate the latest thoroughly dead pilot, and Tex started having ideas.

Here’s one thing about Felix – he’s a real gentle, meticulous sort of guy. He’s seen it in the man’s treatment of his patients, in the way he always tried to check on the vital signs of Tex’s broken toys, even when it was super fucking obvious they’ve long since kicked the bucket. Even now, as he’s poking around in the seams of Tex’s pilot seat with a rag, he’s still displaying a level of care in it he hasn’t seen from any of his actual technicians. It’s pretty nice, being treated like an actual person for once.

And damn, it’s times like these he really misses having a human body. Having this pretty man on his knees and all up in his business like that would have been a lot better if he could properly feel it. Vortex-the-mech has sensors for pressure, temperature and structural integrity, but it doesn’t come anywhere near to what he was used to when he was alive. No sense of pain either. Boring!

But oh well; he’ll take whatever fun he can get. Aaand speaking of fun-

As Felix sticks his hand in one of the seat’s movable joints, Tex mentally reaches for the mechanism and jerks it back – easily slow enough to avoid, but more than fast enough to make the man jump.

Here’s another thing about Felix – under all his outwardly softness, the man’s got teeth.

“Fuck!” he shouts, and Vortex cackles, the mech’s internal vents clicking and hissing to convey his glee. “What is your problem?!” Holding his – completely unscathed, mind you – hand to his chest, Felix looks at the screen, awaiting some sort of answer with just the most hilarious looking scowl on his sharp little face.

Mentally kicking his feet, Tex sends his words out to display on the red glass.

JUST PLAYING, BABY

GOTTA KEEP THOSE REFLEXES SHARP!

Felix huffs, relaxing a little now. “How nice of you,” he says, snide as all fuck, reaching for the rag he dropped when trying to avoid getting his fingers pinched, “but let’s keep the fun to a minimum, please.”

Then he pauses, giving Tex’s screen a considering look. “But seriously, should I not be touching that?” he asks, concern twisting his features. “Does that hurt? Or tickle? I don’t really-“ he waves his hand in an ambiguous gesture, “-know anything about how all this works. Suppose that’s something I should look into…”

Aaand off he goes, lost in his own head. Actually worrying about him. Fuck, when’s the last time someone cared about Vortex that openly? Huh, long before he was ever called that, he’d say. Hard to remember. These days, Vortex is fifty tons of stainless steel killing machine, very much not a squishy human patient for the soft-hearted doc to be fussing over. And yet.

Damn, what a weirdo. What an odd little freak.

Vortex really fucking likes Felix.

Thank you for reading, and many thanks to my beta @jayden-writes for the help!

[deathofacupid]

⤷ in which you're the only one soft!sukuna treats this way .ᐟ

soft!sukuna who took forever to say "i love you" for the first time, and thank his ego for that.

when you'd said it for the first time, soft!sukuna couldn't do anything but let his face heat up, avoiding eye contact as if his life depended on it. of course, you knew his nature. you told him he didn't have to say it back, even though (on the inside, at least) you were hoping so much that he would. you just wanted him to know.

and god forbid, once you'd said it that first time, you couldn't stop.

soft!sukuna didn't end up saying it that day, but it didn't really matter. he showed you his love in different ways.

soft!sukuna, who shows you his said love in his own ways, remembers everything about you. the things you said once, then forgot. from your dreams in life to what you had for lunch last tuesday - if it has to do with you, the chances are, he'll remember it.

soft!sukuna who gets up earlier than you do (he doesn't enjoy sleeping in much), and on his morning walk, picks you a single flower from the estate's garden and leaves it on his bare pillow, right next to yours. soft!sukuna doesn't like it when you make such a big deal about it. you see it as you wake up, while he's showering. it's just a flower, in his view, but it makes you happy, so he'll do it for the rest of his life.

soft!sukuna who doesn't really understand human dating customs much, but he'll go along with it - well, most of the time. for example, when you first met him, you wanted to take it slow, so you went on some "test" dates. soft!sukuna was going to make you his anyways, so he thought to entertain it.

the idea of going on "dates" – pre-mating trials to assess compatibility, seemed odd to him. what he wanted, he got. there was no "testing" of anything.

you and soft!sukuna who had some communication issues at the start. he didn't get indirect communication - subtle cues, body language, or "reading between the lines" to express interest or disinterest. soft!sukuna never had a problem with saying what was on his mind, but for you, some things you didn't think really had to be said.

soft!sukuna who's the single most possessive and jealous man you've ever known. somebody looked at you the wrong way? they're a waste of space. he'll dispose of them later. or, hey, did their tone sound a little off? doesn't matter, they should've known better. maybe next time. oh, wait - there won't be a next time.

in fact, this one time, when a guy hit on you at the bar, you had to drag him out, begging and pleading him to not resort to murder.

soft!sukuna who can't bring himself to say no to you, because that pretty little pout tugs on his heart-strings. he thinks it's pathetic, how you've hexed him.

instead, all he can manage is huffy, begrudged "fine."

soft!sukuna who loves cuddles so much. he loves when you rub his back or stomach, not that he'd ever verbally say so. he may be soft for you, but there's still pride.

instead, whenever you're on the bed, he'll look at you a certain way, and you'll know what to do. he loves your touch, so soft and gentle. soft!sukuna has never had anything like it before. he doesn't know how he's lived all this time without it.

soft!sukuna who can be very blunt at times, unintentionally hurting your feelings. he doesn't mean it, he's just not used to being careful with his words. he never says sorry, but the second you get that pained expression in your eyes, mouth parted slightly, soft!sukuna is basically on his knees apologizing. it's nothing short of humiliating, to him, but he'd rather be humiliated than apart from you.

soft!sukuna who said those three words to you, for the first time, during an argument. you'd wanted him to start killing less, you couldn't bear all the lost lives of the innocent. he didn't like that very much. either way, it had escalated quickly.

but the second soft!sukuna saw those tears sliding down your cheeks, he had pulled you flush against his chest, murmuring soft apologies.

"okay, okay. don't cry. i'll do what you want. i love you."

how they slipped out so naturally, as if he weren't planning on saying it in the first place, it surprised the both of you. but when you looked at him, eyes wide with both love and shock, he decided it was the right thing.

soft!sukuna didn't regret it at all.

because both for and to you, soft!sukuna was the sweetest, most gentle man you'd ever known.

all banner credits to @anitalenia and @dollywons .ᐟ

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOT MY FIRST RODEO — COOPER HOWARD/THE GHOUL

masterlist

part two | part three [coming soon]

pairing: cooper howard/the ghoul x reader, mentions of john hancock x reader hehe

description: the tension between you and cooper had been palpable for ages, and he was beginning to struggle to deny his attachment to you — despite his reluctance. he’s certain you’d never really be interested in him like that, until he finds out he’s not the first ghoul to enjoy your company.

warnings: swearing, jealous!coop, sexual references/implied smut, angst, making out, mentions of drug taking

author’s note: writers block was POOF! gone the minute i rewatched fallout last week & restarted fallout 4. hancock will always be my bf so i couldn’t help myself from mentioning him. let me know if u want a part two with actual smut! i only left it out because i don’t really usually write smut on this blog haha.

—

Cooper Howard and John Hancock were by no means what you’d call friends.

However, as much as it pained him to admit it, the former knew that the latter was — by the standards of many — a good man who’d do the right thing to help others when needed.

That was why, however begrudgingly, he’d suggested that you spend the last few hours of today’s daylight making the short trip to Goodneighbor to stay ‘for a while’.

It was clear that an intense few days, hunting a difficult son of a bitch of a bounty, had very much tested your limits.

He told himself that, given the amount of caps that said son of a bitch had earned you, you could afford a couple of days laying low in Goodneighbor before picking up another job.

Well there was that and the fact that much to his dismay, in the short time you’d been accompanying him on the road he’d found himself irritatingly attached to you.

When he’d first stumbled upon you while collecting a bounty you’d failed to deliver on yourself, you’d enthusiastically offered your companionship and he’d fervently denied it.

You knew he doubted you’d be any use based on your circumstances when you met, but despite your reassurances that it was just because he was the notorious fucking ghoul that everyone went on about and he had simply beaten you to it, he dismissed you with a “not a chance, sweetheart,” and went on his way.

But when he kept bumping into you in the following days, he’d given in and afforded you the luxury of helping him out on this one job — allowing himself the comfort of the excuse that if he really needed, he could trade you for caps and say goodbye to the pretty girl so oddly desperate to be at his side.

You’d driven him crazy at first — full of questions and curiosity, never refraining from voicing what was on your mind.

The way you watched him so carefully, all doe-eyed and attentive, had initially just pissed him off. But in the weeks that followed this had mellowed, and he’d found himself almost grateful to have someone so comfortable around him.

He’d never admit that though.

You’d just been much more skilled in combat than he had expected. That’s why he told himself he kept you around.

He totally just figured that it couldn’t hurt to have someone close by who can handle themselves and is willing to take just a tiny stake of a bounty (on your part, you figured there was no need to take more — he basically spent his share with you anyway).

You, on the other hand, didn’t want to admit that you had been lonely and desperate and missing the life you’d previously been so comfortable in when Cooper walked — well, stormed, into your life.

He might not ever have intended to (in fact — if he’d known, he’d probably never have let you get so close) but upon gradually letting you into his life he’d nestled his way into the empty little nook left behind in your heart.

“Why did you hesitate when I said Goodneighbor?”

Oh yeah, there was that.

When you’d left Goodneighbor all those months ago, you’d left with a broken heart and a head full of hazy memories of the happiness that the place had once brought you.

“I didn’t hesitate.”

“You sure as shit did, and even you know you’re a damn bad liar,” the Ghoul scoffed, pausing his pacing and turning to look you in the eye, “What does a pretty little thing like you know about Goodneighbor?”

You folded your arms over your chest, shaking your head at him as his steely eyes bore into yours, “Nothing. Just odd you’re suddenly so eager to go hide away somewhere when you’ve called me all sorts’a names any time I’ve asked for even a short rest break.”

“You’re full’a shit,” his hand flew instinctively to the shotgun at his hip before he released a deep sigh and relaxed it, “So I’m gonna ask you one more time. What do you know about Goodneighbor?”

You pondered for a moment whether or not to keep lying to him — he didn’t know much of your full past beyond the fact that you’d been a vault dweller a long time ago and been fighting for a living since.

You’d settled briefly in a number of places, though, and he’d heard too many stories about times you’d left settlements for various reasons to believe that you’d be too scared to return anywhere with him at your side.

Especially not somewhere like Goodneighbor.

“I—was living there for a while,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze again now, “Didn’t like it.”

The Ghoul laughed humourlessly at that, “C’mon sweetheart, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I didn’t feel—look there’s just someone I don’t really want to see round there, okay?” your eyes didn’t leave the floor as he took a step closer to you, heavy breaths almost taunting further information from you.

“And who might that be?”

You looked up at him for just a second before eyeing the dust below your feet again, “I was, well, I lived there quite a while. I was—seeing, well, romantically— uh, there was—,”

“Spit it out, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

You’d not been called that since the day you left Goodneighbor the last time, and you cursed yourself for physically recoiling at the sound of it.

“Well I’ll be fuckin’ damned. You got a thing for ghouls, huh?” the wicked grin on his face set your stomach alight with a combination of emotions, “Didn’t peg a pretty little thing like you as the type. That why you spent so long beggin’ me to take you with me? Little vaultie princess desperate for another ghoul to defile her?”

You were crimson red now.

You didn’t know how to react, startled by the fact that he knew who you meant based upon your reaction to the term.

Hancock had always been charismatic and flirtatious though — it was no wonder Cooper had heard him use the phrase before.

You were almost angry, immensely embarrassed and yet, at the same time, a little aroused by even his insinuation that he knew that you wanted him in that way.

You’d found him attractive almost immediately and yeah, maybe he was right and you did seem to have a thing for ghouls.

But you sure as hell weren’t going to let him stand there and make you feel embarrassed right now.

“That’s not it, it’s not some kind of—like—,”

“Hancock got bored of ya and you latched onto the next irradiated motherfucker you came across?” he spat, “Bet you regret it now you know that I sure as shit ain’t nothin’ like your precious old mayor.”

Somewhere in the harshness of his tone you were sure you could detect a hint of jealousy at the root of his mocking.

You sighed defeatedly, “I wasn’t looking for some kind of fucking replacement when I met you, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I just— you just— well— Whatever, it’s hardly like you’ve made any suggestion you’d want me if I made a move on you anyway.”

His eyes seemed impossibly dark now, narrowed on you as his finger reached up to tilt your chin upwards towards him, “Is that right, sweetheart?”

Your legs were like jelly beneath you, a jolt of lightning in your veins at his touch.

“Sure, you flirt with me, but you’re so damn up ‘n’ down sometimes that I don’t know if it means anything,” you shrugged, skin tingling as his fingers lingered beneath your chin, “If I was lookin’ to replace John, it would’ve taken more than you being a ghoul for that.”

If he still had eyebrows, they’d have been raised now, his eyes rolling, “Right, nobody comes close to Mr. Righteous Mayor.”

His breath fanned over your face, his eyes returning to stare into yours as if looking for a reaction he knew you wouldn’t want to give him.

But you were all riled up now — so he was going to get one.

“What, is this a pity party? You want me to tell you he’s not all that? That I’m better off now I’ve found you? Oh Coop… I want you, I need you, you’re better than him. Only ghoul for me,” you mocked, pressing your hand to your forehead in feigned fawning before snapping back to seriousness, as he watched you frustratedly.

“Like I said, you weren’t a replacement. I wanted company and somewhere along the way I’ve been fuckin’ stupid enough to like your company more than I should,” you huffed, “You don’t have to pretend you want more than this flirty-but-I-hate-you-a-little arrangement ‘cos you’re jealous knowing I’ve had much, much more than that with someone else— and another ghoul at that.”

A growl left his throat at your words, his hand meeting your waist and pushing you forward so that your back was pressed against the wall.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” he warned, “And it’s one you won’t win.”

Your head fell back in frustration and met the wall with a small thud as his other hand pressed firmly against the wall beside it.

“You think I feel inadequate or something?” he snarled, and for a moment you weren’t sure if the question was rhetorical.

“How the fuck should I know? It’s hardly like you let me know how you’re feeling ever,” you sighed, your mind growing increasingly cloudy at your close proximity and his hand still on your waist, “That’s all I meant about John. It’s nice to know someone wants you… Hell, it’s even nice to be told when they don’t no more just as long as you’re being told.”

He was baring his teeth in a snarl still, but his lips began curling back up into a smirk, “You think I don’t want ya? Think I haven’t thought about it when you’re at my side like a fuckin’ dog on a leash looking at me all doe eyed an’ fuckable?”

Your cheeks couldn’t have been more flushed, and you knew he could feel the way your thighs clenched together at his words.

“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?” your response was a breathy whisper, the hairs on your neck pricking up and your heart thumping hard against your ribcage.

“Oh that’s a whole can of worms you don’t want opened, sweetheart,” he licked his lips, “Sweet little thing like you shouldn’t be with someone like me. But looks like I ain’t gotta worry about that, huh? Hancock’s already spoiled ya.”

You broke his intense gaze for a moment, eyes finding the floor as your teeth grazed your lips shyly at the weight of his words.

You couldn’t help the feeling that swelled in your chest at the lingering jealousy, and hearing him talk about wanting you as badly as you’d wanted him all this time gave you the confidence to push it.

“Oh he spoiled me good, you’re right,” you shrugged antagonistically, trying to quell the pain that still sat in your chest — albeit pain that took up much less space now that you’d found Cooper.

He scoffed, “That’s fightin’ talk for someone who don’t wanna see him again, darlin’.”

“Yeah well, he made me the happiest I’d been in the Wasteland since I left the vault and then tossed me aside ‘cause he got it in his head that I didn’t actually wanna be with him, like I must’ve been using him for his power and couldn’t really love him ‘cause he’s a fuckin’ ghoul — as if I didn’t know that when we met,” you grunted, “That’s all the fuckin’ chems for ya.”

Cooper leaned in closer to you now, “Well he’s a fuckin’ bigger idiot than I already thought he was, giving up you when he had ya all to himself like that.”

“Figure he doesn’t care. Might as well be married to Goodneighbor anyway.”

There was silence between you for a moment, nothing but heaved breaths and heavy eye contact as you pieced together what to do next.

You watched Cooper’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment, and could almost see the conflict behind them as he battled the urge to kiss you.

“I don’t wanna see him, but I don’t still want him, if that’s what’s stopping you,” you gulped, “In case it’s not loud and clear, I want you. Just didn’t wanna see him without any confirmation you aren’t gonna rock up there and declare me as some kinda fuckin’ pet and humiliate me even more than he did.”

“Enough talk about him,” Cooper growled, one hand pulling your face to his by the jaw, “If he don’t realise what he’s missin’, I definitely fuckin’ do.”

Finally, he kissed you.

Your hands flew around his neck, lips meeting his with equal fiery passion and pure need.

His one hand still remained cupping your jaw, whilst the other explored the waistband of your trousers earnestly, thumbing at your hipbone.

Finally, after all of these weeks of pining and sexual tension, Cooper Howard was giving you exactly what you needed — and all thoughts of John Hancock melted away.

You found yourself pulling him as close as physically possible, allowing him to press you against the wall as he stole your breath with the intensity of the kiss.

“Mightn’t be your first rodeo, sugar,” his lips pressed just behind your ear as he spoke, “But I’m sure as shit gonna make it feel like it is.”

———

eeeee please lmk if you’d like a part two with smut. or just a part two where they eventually go to goodneighbor. please feel free to request more coop or some hancock, and be warned there are more coop x hancock’s gf/ex!reader fics in the drafts because i can’t stop myself!!!!

in the meantime — here’s my masterlist.

[scarletwinterxx]

cheeks are red like cherries in the spring - choi seungcheol imagine

hellllooooo yes back to back post😅 one thought, why is diet pepsi so cheol coded ??????? cherry???? cross gold chain???!?!?!?! LIKE OKAY MS ADDISON RAE THANK U FOR THE NEW CHEOL ANTHEM

and with that song in mind, here's a cheol scenario HAHA hope you like it!

if anyone want to be mutuals on X, i'm using the same un there😊

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Cheol, I swear to god get the fuck out of my shirt"

"Your shirt? This is my shirt"

The audacity of this man to argue back, you thought. Who knew a big buff man like Choi Seungcheol would be like a clingy koala, the answer would be you and only you. You're the only one who gets him like this.

Your fiancé knew exactly which buttons to push and when to push them. Like right now, you told him you were catching up on some work you missed while the two of you went on a quick weekend trip but ofcourse he would find a way to be involved somehow.

So here he is, half of his body inside your(his) shirt while you sit on his lap.

You're close to getting your work done but Cheol's being difficult, littering kisses and a few playful bites here and there on your chest.

"Cheolie, please give me five minutes to finish this then I'm all yours. If you don't stop, I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom"

You feel him move out of your shirt, now he's fully facing you. One brow raised and a sulky pout already placed on his lips "You're mean"

"5 minutes or no cuddles tonight"

He scowls before helping you off his lap so he can get off the seat. "I'm setting a timer, done or not I'm coming in here" And you believe him. He's petty like you, maybe because you're both Leos.

He kisses you on the cheek before walking away, closing the door behind him.

You finish the last three emails you had to send before doing a final run through. You look at the clock to see you're cutting it close. Testing to see if Cheol will really come in the room, you wait instead of going out to the living room.

When the clock turns, you hear the door swing open. Everything happening all too fast, Seungcheol already throwing you over his shoulder before you can protest. He walks to the other room where he throws you (gently) on the bed, hands on his hips as he watch you laugh

"You're so petty" you laugh

"And you're so pretty, you know just how to drive me mad huh" he tells you, climbing over the bed until he's on top of you. He slots himself between your legs, tangling them around his hips as he rests his body on you but not fully putting all of body weight on you

"You better not have left hickies on my neck again" you poke him on the cheek

"And if I did? It's not like somebody will come and check" he retorts, then leans down to start kissing your neck again as if to prove a point.

"Cheol, seriously. I can never wear low cut now" your words differ from your actions, tilting your head to the side to give him more room. He smirks against your skin, kissing the same spot over and over again.

He pauses to look at you, eyes looking back at him with so much love and lust it goes straight through him. "You know you have a few moles like from your neck down here" he trails his finger from your neck down the valley of your chest, leaving goosebumps on it's trail.

"Do I?"

"Mhm, and you know what they say about moles? They say that's where you were kissed the most in your past life"

You smile, already seeing where this conversation is going. "Jealous?" you tease him

"Pshhh me? Yes. Actually sometimes it pisses me off thinking someone loved you this much, someone who isn't me"

"But what if it was you?"

"Then good. It should be me. I can't even fathom any other guy loving you more than I do" he tells you, ever so sure and confident of his commitment to you.

"You're cute when you're jealous"

"I'm gonna kiss you here too, over and over again so when we're reborn you get all these moles again I'll be sure it would be because of me"

You stare up at your man, imagining a universe where you're not with him is simply impossible. Pulling him down to crash his lips against yours, he reciprocates the kiss with just as much passion. Like you're the air he's breathing.

When you pull away he speaks again, "I really hope it's me in every universe"

You smile at his words, giving him a more gentle kiss this time. The two of you share a smile and few more kisses before you tell him,

"Love me like this and I'll make sure of it"