#though i let her keep some of the Belts That Do Nothing

[rocketbirdie]

taking matters into my own hands and giving us the gongaga we deserved

[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.

[heytheredelulu]

To Have and To Hold-

And to Fuck Whenever I Want

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 1.5k

C/W: Shameless smut. It’s our favorite dirty talkin’, 107 year old super soldier fucking you (his wife) on your period.

Gimme beefy Bucky coming home late, long after his kids are in bed for the night and finding his pretty little wife curled up on the couch with a frown on her perfect face, watching some shitty ass movie.

His cock twitches in his jeans at the sight of you in his tshirt and an audible groan rises up from his throat when he rounds the corner completely and notices you’ve chosen to forgo pajama pants altogether. Those innocent little cotton briefs of yours always do him in.

“What’s wrong, momma?” He asks in a low, gravely voice as he takes a seat next to you on the couch, resting a large hand on your bare thigh.

“Cramps.” You reply flatly, not taking your gaze off the garbage rom-com playing on the tv, though you’ve seen it numerous times.

“Oh.” He breathes out, glancing over his shoulder at the dry-erase calendar hanging on the wall in the kitchen that you use to manage your large family’s schedule. “Hm. Two days early?” He asks.

“Yeah, two fucking days early.” You snap, shifting in your seat.

He keeps his grasp firm on your thigh, offering an affectionate squeeze.

“You feelin’ that bad, huh?” He asks in a soft voice that he reserves only for you.

You nod, finally pulling your attention away from the television and turning it onto him. The only light source in the room at this time of night is from the flashing scenes across the flatscreen but that little bit of illumination is all he needs to see how glassy your eyes are.

“Oh, baby girl.” He murmurs, pushing your hair back off your face. “Lemme take care of you.”

You shake your head, knocking free a few of the tears that had been brimming your lash line. “No, there’s nothing you can do to help.”

He scoffs, his hand sliding up the soft flesh of your thigh until his fingertips brush the hem of your underwear.

“No. Baby, no.” You protest, bringing your hand down to stop him but his vibranium hand is faster, catching your wrist and pushing it away.

“Yes. Baby, yes.” He muses, slipping his index finger under the fabric and gently wrapping the string of your tampon around it.

“Bucky, that’s disgusting.” You hiss, frowning at him. “I’m on my period.”

He lets out a low, breathy chuckle as he slowly and carefully begins to tug. “It’s just blood, momma. You think me of all people would be bothered by blood?” He asks softly.

You pause, considering your answer but in your silence he continues. “Besides, wasn’t that part of the vows we exchanged in that sweet little church before God? To have and to hold and to fuck whenever I want?”

“That was not in our vows and you know it.”

“Hm, they weren’t? We should consider renewing those.” He replies with a crooked smirk as he pulls your tampon free, tossing it over the couch and into the waste bin with precision.

“I gotta be honest, baby girl. If the good lord hadn’t intended for me to fuck you everytime my cock was hard, he wouldn’t have blessed you with such a perfect little pussy.”

“Bucky..” you warn, sitting upright as he rises off the couch.

He shushes you, his large hands moving to unbuckle his belt as your eyes settle on the tented crotch of his jeans.

“If you think-“ He mumbles, pulling the leather through the silver buckle and unbuttoning his jeans with his thick fingers. “That I’m not going to bury myself balls deep inside my wife any and every chance I get- you are sorely mistaken.” He tells you matter of factly, tugging his jeans down his defined waist and kicking them unceremoniously aside in a pile at the foot of the couch. “Now take off those sweet little panties before I tear them off of you.”

You hesitate, swallowing down the whimper that rose up in your throat at his command.

“I said, off.” He repeats sternly, stepping out of his boxers and wrapping a hand around his weeping cock. He pumps himself lazily once, twice, in your hesitation before letting out an impatient growl and reaching forward to curl his vibranium fingers under the waistband of underwear, not allowing you a second more to protest before tearing them effortlessly off of your body.

“Now, are you gonna follow my instructions or will I have to pick you up and set you down where you belong?” He asks in a gruff whisper, his blue eyes darkening with desire.

“And where exactly do you think I belong?” You ask him defiantly, pulling at his last thread of patience.

“You-“ He growls, grasping your wrists in a punishing grip and yanking you to your feet. He jerks you towards him as he looms over you, his head dipped down to hold your gaze and his impossibly hard cock pressing against your abdomen, leaving a smear of precum across the soft skin of your belly.

“You belong wrapped around me.” He murmurs, cupping your jaw gently and brushing the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip in an affectionate sentiment that felt like such a stark contrast to the aggression he’d just been displaying. It was the little gestures that betrayed that dominance in him, that assured you that this powerful man standing so needy before you loved you so much that he’d do anything for you without question.

You lean into his touch and he lets out a low and breathy moan.

“You belong wrapped around me, momma.” He continues. “Crying out my name. Soakin’ my cock with your sweet, sweet-“ He pauses, his length twitching as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck, I need you.” he chokes out, settling his hands on each side of your hip and he lifts you effortlessly, sinking you down inch by inch onto his throbbing cock.

He plants his feet and bends his knees, supporting your weight as he cups your ass, kneading the soft flesh while he allows you the opportunity to anchor your arms around his neck. A shameless moan rises from your throat, your head tipping back in the pleasure of him buried balls deep within you as he walks you backwards to press your back to the wall. A low and cocky chuckle is all the warning he gives you before he draws his hips back, thrusting up into you hard enough to kiss your cervix. Choked gasps tear from your chest as he picks up a steady rhythm, massaging your aching walls with every deep rut of his hips.

“I thought-“ He hissed through gritted teeth, dipping his head to nip at your pulse point. “You said nothing would help.”

You shake your head, mumbling incoherently and letting your head fall against your shoulder to allow him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Seems like it’s helping.” He muses, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat. You whimper, tightening your legs around his waist as he slows his pace into long, deep strokes, groaning as he savors the way you grip him, the feeling of your building orgasm causing his hips to stutter just the slightest.

“Fuck, momma. You have.. the most.. perfect.. cunt.” He rasps out, emphasizing each of the last words with a brutal thrust.

You break with that last deep roll of his hips, the tension that was coiled tight in your abdomen snapping with a burst of white hot ecstacy, a broken cry escaping your heaving chest as your walls spasm around him.

“Oh God, that’s it. Come on my cock, come all over daddy’s cock.” He grunts, snapping his hips and increasing his tempo to fuck you through the dizzying waves of your release.

“Jamie..” You whimper, reaching a trembling hand to caress his jaw.

His name on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound, causing his breath to catch and his eyes flutter closed with a low and raspy moan. He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm before you trail your fingertips down his shoulders in a featherlight touch. He buries his face into your neck, his short, sharp pants hot against your skin, his movements growing sloppy and erratic as he hangs on by a mere thread.

“I’m- I-“ He chokes out, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle the primal groan that rips through his chest as his balls draw up and his cock pulses, emptying himself inside you with one last powerful thrust.

He’s still for a moment, working to catch his breath before he tightens his arms around you, peppering gentle kisses along your jaw as he lowers you to the floor on wobbly legs and you sway, stumbling forward slightly.

“Momma.” He says softly, splaying a large hand against the base of your skull and drawing you into his chest. “You alright?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m alright.” You assure him, a hum of satisfaction rumbling in his chest under your ear. “I’m feeling much, much better.”

He smiles, tucking your head under his chin just to feel you close to him a moment longer.

“C’mon, baby. Let’s get you in a hot bath.”

His hands trail along your spine in a soothing motion, goosebumps prickling along your flushed skin in response to his touch.

“To have and to hold.” He whispers, pressing a firm kiss to your temple.

You grin against his chest, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent.

“And to fuck whenever you want.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

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[mythos-writes]

Revenge

Rhea Ripley x Wrestler! Reader

Plot: With Rhea gone because of injury, leaving (Y/N) alone in the Judgement Day, and the new target for Liv Morgan. But when Rhea returns from injury, all is fair in love and war

Word Count: 914

Warnings: None, just an angry Rhea Ripley :)

Main Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Since Rhea was sidelined after Wrestlemania, things slowly started to fall apart within Judgment Day. With Damian struggling to keep the group together, Finn and JD winning the Tag team belts was amazing. But having Dom running around and fooling around with Liv, was driving a spike deep into the heart of the Judgement Day. 

But the person taking Rhea’s absence the worst was (Y/N). Failing to get the women’s title after Rhea relinquished it, dealing with the group, and Liv bullying her was starting to get too much for her. The boys tried not to let Liv near her, but once Dom spent a lot of time with her, keeping her distance was getting harder. 

(Y/N) was getting ready for her match against her friend, Dakota Kai. Usually, Rhea would have come out with her, but because of the injury, she had been flying solo. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Damian’s voice booms in the small empty hallway. “Are you ok?” he asks. 

“Yeah. This has been one of the only places that Liv can’t find me to harass me,” she says, looking down at her boots. She never likes showing how much Liv affects her. 

Damian sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. He tries his best to get Liv away from her, and away from Dom, but he can only do so much. 

“Do you want me to accompany you to the ring tonight?” he asks. (Y/N)’s heart warms at the offer, missing someone in her corner for matches.  

“I think I’ll be fine. Thanks though. If I need you, I’ll send an arrow to the entrance,” she says while mimicking Damian's archer taunt. He lets out a breathy chuckle at her actions. 

“What are we laughing at?” Liv’s voice breaks their moment. 

“Um, nothing important,” (Y/N) says, becoming shy—Damian moves to protect her from the Women’s champion. 

“I was just talking to her before her match, which is next so if you excuse us,” Damian says, grabbing (Y/N) wrist and pushing their way past Liv. Once they got out of the hallway and away from Liv, she let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks, Damian,” she mumbles as they walk towards the gorilla.

“You know I got you,” he says while pulling her into his chest. 

“(Y/R/N) and Dakota Kai to the gorilla. Match in 2 minutes,” The voice calls out over speakers. 

“You ready?” He asks. She sends him a smile. 

“I’m ready. But the question is are they ready for me?” 

“Yes,” Dakota replies, getting a chuckle from the two members of TJD. Dakota’s music blasts as she leaves the gorilla. 

Damian places his hands on her shoulders, grounding her again. Damian has stepped up a lot to be there for (Y/N) since her girlfriend has been out. Rhea has also been in constant contact because she knew that (Y/N) wouldn’t have been 100% honest with her. After all, (Y/N) wouldn’t want her to come rushing back when she wasn’t ready. 

“You got this,” Damian reassures her before her music hits. She sends him one last smile, taking a deep breath, before walking through the curtain and out to the waiting crowd. (Y/N)  rocking black pleather shorts with a leather garter belt. Her top was a simple pleather wrestling top with a cut-up Judgement Day shirt over it. She made her way to the ring, ready to get this small match over with. 

Once the bell rings, (Y/N) was dominating the match. They had some good back and forths but (Y/N) keeps the upper hand. She could hear the growing noise coming from ringside, but she chose to ignore the noise. (Y/N) hits her finisher (a version of the Walls of Jericho), securing her win. Dakota rolls out of the ring, refs making sure she is ok.

As she was processing the win, something hard hit her in the back of the head. (Y/N) is looking up to the rafters and Liv Morgan’s face comes into her view. Liv gives her an overly ‘friendly’ wave. (Y/N) slowly rolls off of her back, still holding her head.

As (Y/N) slowly gets up, Liv grabs a steel chair and is ready to lay a beating on her. When Demons in your Dreams belt out through the arena. The crowd cheers, Liv and (Y/N) couldn’t believe it. Liv scampers out of the ring like her life depends on it while Rhea charges the ring, wanting to get her hands on her placeholder. 

Rhea made sure that Liv was nowhere close to the ring before she turns her full attention to (Y/N).

“Rhea?” (Y/N) questions. Rhea moves her hair out of her face, getting a better look at her girlfriend.

“I’m here love,” she replies. Refs came over to see if extra assistance was needed.

“I thought you were still out?”

“I’m not 100% clear but I couldn’t sit at home anymore and watch you get hurt at the hands of her,” Rhea was still enraged at what had been happening. “I’m also gonna have a chat with a certain Dirty Dom after getting you to the medics,” she says while helping (Y/N) out of the ring.

“I’m happy you’re back,” she whispers for only Rhea to hear. She smiles down to her partner and places a kiss on her forehead.

“Me too babe. Me too.”

[writer-komaru]

Wild One’s Rodeo 𓃗

Warning✧ [explicit] Grinding, no protection, dubcon.

Characters✧ Boothill

Words✧ 1464

Summary✧ As a waitress for one of the most popular bars in penacony, you’ve met your fair share of strange characters. A smug man adorned in exotic furs who tried making a bet with the bartender, a sparkling knight who gave every lady in the bar a rose without even staying for a drink, even an enigmatic woman carrying a purple katana with eyes like a serpent who sat alone at the end of the bar. But never have you met a man like Boothill. A man of steel and whiskey, tying you in hemp like you’re nothing but a naughty cow he’s gonna tame. Give him a rodeo he won’t forget.

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Here’s your sundae,” you place a decked out desert in front of an impatient woman who snarls a crude thanks. You’d like to give her a good smack for making you fetch her four other deserts until she is finally satisfied but you had already been scolded two times already. You couldn’t afford to lose another job. Not in this “thriving” economy that had the lower class slaving away while the rich babbled over dozens of mugs of beer or road cars that sped down the busy streets like a comet streaking through the night sky.

You pushed away the unrealistic thoughts and got back to work. “What would ya like, sir?” “How can I help ya, ma’am?” “Would ya like a refill?” The thoughts buzzed and bounced around in your head like a hive of bees; it was beginning to drive ya mad. That was until they suddenly went dead silent.

You placed another tray of expensive alcohol (stuff you’d never dream of buying) onto the faded wooden counter when the doors of the bar flew open, almost splintering into pieces. A shot blasted out into the sky.

“YEEEEHAWW!! How’s all yall fiendin’ tonight?” He hollered out into the crowded bar catching everyone’s attention, including yours. Even though you’ve never seen this man before in your life, the guests erupted into cheers, some even standing up to greet him or share drinks. At Leary it gave you a few seconds to scope him out. He wore a tight, jet-black leather vest and pants, held up by a brown and heavy gold belt. Yet, that wasn’t the main thing that caught your eye. His vest appeared to be cut right above the nipples. But, strangely enough, he didn’t really have any. Instead, his entire upper body from the neck down to his feet and fingertips was entirely plated with titanium, or some similar shiny metal. Could he be some type of robo cowboy?

“Heyyyy little lady, whatcha doin’ on yer own?~” you gasped as he pushed you up against the counter, humming right against your ear with such a deep country accent you felt your legs tremble. He seemed to notice it too, his smirk stretching into a full on smile. “Oh my sweet darlin’, yer gonna fly away like a mayflower in May if ya keep trembling’ like that. Don’t worry babydoll, I got ya~” he chuckled with that rugged, sultry voice as he playfully stroked your hips, as if he was tinkering with some kind of machine, steadfast on fixing your loose legs. But his tinkering only wet your face ablaze.

Who even WAS this man?! You wanted to push him away and scold him but your hips were pinned so hard to the counter you could feel every inch he had. No, you can’t think such dirty thoughts about a guest, no matter how persuasive they were. And damn, was her persuasive.

“What’s with that look, darlin’? Scared I’ll bite?” Lets out a small laugh, “I might be gentle with it if ya say please, mister…~”

“P-please… mister.” you managed out breathlessly

“Awh, aren’t you a cute little lady~ why not we find out what these metal hands’a mine can do to those barrels yer hauling around, huh doll?~” his hands roamed up your body and gave your breasts a firm squeeze. That little move of his snapped you out of your lustful daze to deliver a fiery slap across his cheek.

He takes it like a champ and lets out a light whistle, “wow baby, you sting like hot iron~”

“Y-you can’t just jump on top of a stranger and have your way…” you cross your arms and turn around, peeking back at him to see his reaction. Any other waitress would have called the Bloodhounds of him. But you weren’t just any woman. You were dying for something actually interesting to your monotonous assembly-line ass job and this cowboy might be your ticket to freedom.

“Awwwhhh come on, doll face~ I ain’t mean no harm. When I saw yer curves dressed in that get up I knew I hadta show ya how to properly ride a bull~” he leans forward, taking your hand in his and kissing it with a flirtatious wink. He begins walking back to the door, your hand still in his, “if ya want some hands on learnin’, follow me, pretty thing.”

You immediately ripped off your stained waitress uniform and ran to his side, “Oh Boothill, I’ve been itching for this~”

“Have ya, now?~” he raised an eyebrow in amusement and pulled you into a nearby alleyway, “Well I know just the way to solve a pesky itch~”

“How will-“ before you could even finish your sentence he lifted both of your legs and swung them over his shoulders, your aching pussy pushed flush against his toned metallic abdomen. The hard surface sent electricity zapping through your wet folds; you were not sure if it was your desire or his robotic body sending out small shocks as if to warn you about the power it can showcase.

“Overwhelmed already?~ never been dicked down by a real man, have ya, darling?” He teases, stoking your flames.

“N-no, I have… m-many times…” you bluffed.

“You sure, babydoll? Cuz this cute little pussy down here’s singin’ a different tune and myyyy is it a sweeten’~” he bites his lip as he rubs his hips side to side, the hard as metal rod in his pants grinding against you so good you felt like cumming already and he wasn’t even inside yet.

“P-please….” You begged between gasps.

“Please what, doll?~” he smirked wickedly.

“P-please… p-ple… pl… ease….” You choked out each word, struggling to put them together.

“Two little words and I’ll stretch ya out so good your kitty’ll meow so loud they’ll call animal control,” he gave your chest another teasing squeeze.

“P-please… boothiiiiiilllll….” You cried out.

“That’s a good girl…~” his eyes narrowed with focus as he pushed aside your drenched panties and stroked your folds up and down.

“So sticky and wet… like a rich lil beehive overflowing with thick honey…” he once again rested his head on your shoulder as he aligned himself to your twitching pussy. Without so much as a warning, he rammed right inside, immediately hitting the deepest reaches of your womb, making you release an embarrassingly loud cry and a hot stream of cum all over his shiny abs. “Wowie…~ someone’s really been dying for a proper fucking, huh?” He gripped your hips tight and grunted as he attempted a deeper thrust, “I’ll milk this pretty hole for all its for.”

“Aaaaggh... nnnagggg… s-stop… n-no deep… we… aaACK!~” you choked out moan after moan, almost like you were a pent up teen again. No matter how much you begged, he only went faster and harder, with enough robotic accuracy and consistency you knew you’d be sore for days. It was like he filled each slap of skin with a silent promise to somehow, some way, get you pregnant.

He let out a particularly loud groan in your ear, “oh baby, if ya squeeze me like that… ohhhh doll…~ I just can’t take much more-a this.~ Ya ready? Ready for a real mess?”

“Y-yeah-ahh! Yeeaaaahhhh-Ahhh!” You cried out.

“Darn baby…. Oh… oh fu- f-fudge…. Hold on baby, I’m almost… oh darling, you’re perfect for me!~” with one last growl you feel a large burst of warm cum burst inside of you, dripping out onto the concrete of the secluded alleyway. But instead of giving himself even a moment’s rest, he bites his lip and shoves himself right back in, humping at you like a dog in heat.

“Shi-sugar baby, I just can’t stop breeding this pretty hole… And these massive tits here don’t make it any easier~” he gropes them a bit more before pinching your nipples with a naughty smile.

“A-aaagh!”

“Ohhh~ did someone like that~” he begins fucking you harder and licks your neck, “I didn’t know I had such a foxy lady under me~”

“P-pleasssseeeee boothill…”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get ya to that edge again…. And again and again and again, oh, you’ll have so much fun with me,” he laughed before delivering a cheeky bite to your neck. Your moans began to soften as your vision darkened, which he caught onto almost as fast as he’s drilling into you.

“I’ve got ya, doll… just let the darkness settle in.” He whispers with a soothing groan as he litters a series of bites along your neck and shoulder, each one fading your vision faster until it is purely black. When the morning comes, you’ll definitely get an ear full from your boss. That is…. If you choose to awake from this beautifully sexy daydream.

Hellooo everyone, I’m so terribly sorry it’s been so long. My life’s gotten a whole lot busier and I haven’t had any inspiration to write in a very very long time. BUT!! Even though this ain’t much compared to my usual stuff, I hope it’s still enjoyable to you all. I love yall so much, looking back at all the kind comments and likes warms my heart more than anything. See yall soon! (I’d be down for a part two if yall like 👀)

[avocado-writing]

roadtrip au

I can’t stop thinking about a modern au roadtrip and what everyone would be doing in the minivan you definitely have. I’m sorry if this has been done before but -

Tav

You’re driving. Would you trust any of those other fools to? No. Absolutely not letting them behind the wheel

Responsible for keeping the schedule. You have to be at your destination on time and you’ll be damned if they’ll stop you.

The only person you sometimes let take over if you need a break is —

Gale

Let’s be real. Only other one of you with a driving license.

he sits shotgun mostly because he reads the map for you if your GPS goes out.

tries to work out shortcuts. Fails miserably. If you follow his “time saving” directions you’ll get so fucking lost. Only trust him to read out your planned route and nothing else.

Astarion

Fucking hates road trips. Catch him with a sleep mask on and headphones in. Will absolutely sleep through the whole entire thing.

Let’s be clear. He doesn’t NEED to sleep. But he does because he can’t fucking stand car talk. Would rather listen to podcasts and be in his own world. especially because of —

Lae’zel

Hates road trips too but because she’s a terrible backseat driver. Doesn’t understand why you can’t speed all the way there to make the trip more efficient, or take out other cars.

rolls down the window to shout at people on the road who she thinks are driving poorly.

Gets in fights with people at the gas station when you stop to refuel the car. And also in the car with —

Shadowheart

Always there to bicker with Lae’zel. When she’s not doing that she’s brooding out of the window.

Mutters that this must be some sort of trial from her god, because she is suffering being stuck in this minivan.

does fall asleep on the shoulder of the person sitting next to her though. (Often Lae’zel. Weird they always sit next to each other when they can’t seem to get along… but Lae’zel does let her sleep, claiming that the silence is better.)

Karlach

One of the few people who enjoys the ride!

likes to call out farm animals she sees as you drive by. “Sheep!” or “cows!”

LOVES a game of yellow car. Especially the version where you punch each other. Therefore she doesn’t get many volunteers to sit next to her.

Wyll

He controls the music and the aux cord. People all approve of his music tastes. Makes the best playlists, change my mind

he’s often singing along too, he has a nice voice, catch him and Tav belting out “unwritten” at the top of their lungs as you speed down the motorway.

helps settle fights in the van. Massive peacekeeper. If there was no Wyll there would be no roadtrip.

Halsin

Hates being in a car but sucks it up and does it anyway.

this man is the snack master. He brings all the snacks. And good stuff too, like a lot of nice sweets and crisps…

… because if people are eating they aren’t arguing.

likes to be next to a window so he can see nature go by, gets into conversations with Karlach about the animals and trees around 💕

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Carmilla Carmine x female reader ABC smut headcannons

A/n: I did this on another account for Lapis Lazuli, let’s hope this one goes well too lol!

Requested by: no one.

Warnings: smut, gay sex. A lot more but you’ll see in the headcannons(I ain’t gonna list every headcannon)

A- After Care (what their like after sex)

-Sweetest and most caring woman ever after sex. She’ll make sure your hydrated, comfortable, cleaned up and even fed if your hungry after. She’ll even help you take a bath or shower if needed

B- Body Part (what’s their favorite body part of their partner and themselves?)

-For her? She likes her thighs. In sex or out of sex. It doesn’t really matter. She enjoys having you touch and sit on them, grind on them or simply rest on them.

-For you, she enjoys your hands. Also in and out of sex. She loves how both of your hands can intertwine together in public, or how you can caress her and touch her. Also she enjoys your fingers in her so that’s a plus for her

C-Cum (anything to do with it)

-50/50 for her. She enjoys it but she isn’t crazy about it. She’ll eat you out but sometimes doesn’t swallow all the cum. Sometimes she’ll just wipe it onto the bedsheets to get it off of herself. It’s kinda messy for her and sticky if there’s too much, which is uncomfortable.

D-Dominant or Submissive? (Their position in sex)

-She leans on more of the Dominant side. She’s not a controlling top, but she does like taking the reins. Either that or a power bottom, but she’ll let you have full control too.

E-Experience (how experienced are they?)

-She’s pretty experienced. She’s not like angel dust or some succubus who’s really good at it, but she can satisfy you better than a lot of people can.

F/Favorite Pose/position (y’all know what this is)

-Missionary. No doubt. She enjoys seeing you. Whether you’re on top of her or if she’s on top of you. She likes seeing your reactions up close and it’s much easier for her to kiss and pleasure you.

G-Goofy (how serious are they in bed?)

-To her intimacy is not about jokes and goofing off. Yea she’ll tease you here and there and chuckle sometimes at your reactions, but she isn’t going to be that goofy.

H-Hair (how well groomed are they?)

-She’s pretty well groomed. Being a weapon armor Overlord she likes to stay professional, so keeping herself well groomed (even in the areas that aren’t showing) is how she rolls.

I-Intimacy (are they romantic?)

-100%. She’s one of the most romantic girls ever. I feel like if she’s feeling really romantic, she’d get the room cozy and soft and dimly lit with candles and rose petals. Also the bath tub too. Bath tub hot and warm, filled with rose petals and candles around it, and wine for you two to drink to get the mood up.

J-Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

-She isn’t one to jack off. If she were to it would be like at most 5 times a year. She won’t jack off unless she’s really in need of release and you’re not there.

K-Kinks (one or two of their kinks)

-Praising and BDSM. Light BDSM though, like soft handcuffs or belts. Nothing too extreme where your all tied up. She wants you to be comfortable. She loves receiving bondage too, also lightly, she doesn’t want to be all tied up and fully restrained where she can’t even move. She enjoys giving and receiving praise, she won’t be too graphic about it but she’ll go far with that one

L-Location (where would they want to do it?)

-The place she mainly wants to have sex with you at is in your guys room alone. She enjoys having the moment romantic and relaxing. Though she’s up for sex in the bath if you’re up for it.

M-Motivation (what turns them on?)

-You just being sexy or seductive. If you’re in an aroused position, then that will make her aroused. If you’re speaking seductively with a smirk on your face, then she’ll be turned on. Also touching. Like rubbing your hands against her thighs or waist. She also enjoys heated kisses on her mouth or neck, it’ll turn her on.

N-No (where do they draw the line?)

-Any actual pain. She’s okay with light biting and anything pleasurable. But nothing to far. She doesn’t want to hurt you and doesn’t feel comfortable inflicting any pain on you, or herself.

O-Oral (What their like giving/receiving)

-She’s good at it, a woman knows what another woman wants. Her tongue’s incredibly skilled, she could make you cum with just licking your thighs.

-She loves receiving oral. She’ll be holding back all her groans and moans as she’s practically sweating from the stimulation.

P-Pace (Are they Rough and fast? Or slow and sensual?)

-Most of the time slow and sensual. Though if you want rough then she’ll give you rough. She likes slow and sensual for herself though, she rarely asks you for it to be rough.

Q-Quickies (Their opinions, experiences, etc.)

-She’d rather not, but she finds herself using them sometimes. She does it with you sometimes at work if either one of you needs some sort of release. But she’d rather have you in bed with her and take her sweet time.

R-Risk (are they willing to experiment? Risks?)

-Risks are rarely or not ever taken. She cherishes her time with you and wouldn’t risk getting hurt, or getting caught. She’s willing to experiment different positions, styles, or habits though

S-Stamina (How long can they go for?)

-Normally, she can for about 2 or 3 rounds. But she can go for 4 or 5 sometimes if you both are really in the mood and need it.

T-Toys (do they use toys?)

-Sometimes but not often. She’d rather use herself (fingers, mouth, tongue, etc.) rather than be objects, but she’s up for it once in a while

U-Unfair (do they like to tease?)

-yes, she does. Though it’s not harsh or cruel, a few small jokes or words or actions but not to much.

V-Volume (How loud are they?)

-From quiet to medium. She’s not too nosy, she’s loud enough for you to hear though. She will get louder sometimes if you go rougher on her though.

W-Wild card(just a random headcannon for the character)

-She doesn’t show a lot of PDA, but sometimes during meeting with other overlords, when she’s sitting down with you, she’ll trial her fingers up and down your thighs.

X-Xray (what are they like underneath those clothes)

-She’s smooth, and if you already couldn’t tell, she’s pretty thin too. Uhh breast size, not so big either but it’s not like it matters.

Y-Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

-Not very high. She has a pretty low sex drive. She’s usually not in the mood or too busy. This doesn’t mean she doesn’t have desires, it’s just not often.

Z-Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep?)

-She waits for you to fall asleep, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe in her arms. Though if you go hard on her then she’ll probably pass out before you, especially if you had sex on a busy stressful day.

[7s3ven]

SHORT STRAW. human! miles quaritch

IN WHICH… miles quaritch needs a scientist on his team, and you just had to draw the short straw.

Notes: scientist/doctor! reader, petnames, inappropriate jokes, age gap (not explicitly stated, but it is there),

—

As a kid, you were always quiet and introverted. As a teenager, you rarely spoke. Now, as an adult, you were on the most dangerous planet, working as a scientist despite having a medical degree. You weren’t even sure how you got on Pandora. All you did was get outstanding grades, win some awards, and then the RDA shipped you off. It’s not like you were complaining, you had nothing left on Earth.

Pandora was your home now and little by little, you grew comfortable with the new environment. You were working along Grace Augustine, a renowned scientist. And you were finally happy with where you were in life.

“Those idiots!” You heard Grace yell as she slammed her cup of coffee onto the table, accidentally spilling the hot liquid onto her latest report. She screamed out a string of curse words, causing every head to turn in her direction. "I need a damn cigarette!"

You hurried over with a pack, handing it over to Grace. "What's wrong?" You asked, furrowing your brows together lightly. You didn't have to question it too much to know what was running through Grace's head. You knew, based on the frown and sneer pulling at her lips, that it had something to do with Parker Selfridge or Quaritch. Maybe even both, with the way her eye was twitching in annoyance.

"Quaritch, that bastard!" She exclaimed, throwing a rage fit. "He wants a scientist on his team for today, even though I offered before, and he said no!" Grace clicked her tongue, banging a hand down onto her desk.

No scientist would willingly work for Quarditch, and Grace knew that. That's how you ended up in the conference room with about ten other scientists who doubled as doctors, Miles Quaritch, and Lyle Wainfleet.

You stood close to Grace, almost hiding behind her. The Colonel had always intimidated you; he towered over you, and you were rather scared of his strength. You had seen him punch another marine, sending the soldier flying back. So, it was safe to say you wanted to stay on his good side.

"Alright, everybody, grab a straw," Grace muttered. Some of the other scientists groaned, tilting their heads back in frustration. Drawing straws was the usual method the scientists used to decide who would write the next report or who would have to chug the year-old alcohol sitting in the cupboard.

"That's how you're gonna decide my team's scientist?" Quaritch grumbled, clearly unimpressed by the childish method. Grace merely rolled her eyes. "Just assign me your best one. Or better yet, assign me the prettiest one." He pointed right at you, lips curling into a snarky smirk.

Grace held out an arm, "She is my best scientist."

Quaritch shrugged, "That's a bonus."

Grace ignored him, holding out a handful of straws. Quaritch watched as each person picked a straw, their gazes darting around nervously and hoping they weren't the unlucky person. "Okay. Hold 'em up." Grace muttered. There was a moment of silence before her eyes flickered to you in pity. "Y/N got the shortest."

"Well, lookie here, I won." Quaritch didn't even try to hide the grin on his face, mocking Grace.

She scowled, pointing the middle finger at the marine. "You better keep her in one piece, you dog. I need her to finish writing her thesis."

"Yeah, I'll keep your pretty little scientist safe." He uttered as he walked around the table, stopping in front of you. "In the meantime, get that damn report on my desk before Selfridge has a fit again." Quaritch hooked a finger around your belt, pulling you forward. "Let's go, Wainfleet."

You barely had time to process the situation before Quaritch’s firm grip on your belt yanked you forward again, pulling you into unified steps with him. You struggled to keep up with his long strides, feeling the stares of your coworkers burning into your back.

As you walked, more like jogged, you could feel the intimidating presence of Lyle trailing behind you. He didn’t say a word, but you knew he was watching your every move. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, the cold, metallic walls making you feel claustrophobic.

Quaritch finally broke the silence, his voice gruff but not as harsh as you expected. "Listen up, Doc. I don't need a nervous wreck on my team. You’re here to get the job done, not to cower in the corner. You got that?" He poked your shoulder, and you quickly nodded.

“Good,” He continued, his pace not slowing as he spoke. “My team and I need someone who can act as a scientist and a doctor. We're lucky we got stuck with you." You heard a loud click beside you, and you turned your head to see Lyle grinning at you. He was replacing the bullets in his gun as a means to scare you even more. "We’re going into the forest, and I, more like Selfridge, need you to analyze some samples. Think you can do that, pretty?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady as you responded. "Yes, sir. I can do that." You kept your gaze lowered.

Quaritch glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. “Good. Keep up that attitude, and you might just survive this.”

You didn’t know whether to be reassured or terrified by his words. You knew that Pandora was dangerous—more dangerous than you ever imagined when you first arrived. The creatures, the environment, and even the air could kill you if you weren’t cautious. You had never actually left the science base before, and now you were being dragged out against your will by a team that seemed to care more about their mission than your life.

As you reached the armoury, Quaritch stopped and turned to face you, his gaze piercing. “Suit up. We leave in ten.”

You nodded again, quickly moving to gather the gear you needed. Your hands trembled slightly as you secured your equipment, the heavy weight pressing you down. You had always been comfortable in the lab, surrounded by data and experiments. This was entirely different—this was survival.

Lyle handed you a weapon, and you hesitated for a moment before grasping it. You weren’t used to holding one, and the cold metal felt foreign in your hands. “Better learn to use that fast,” He said, patting your shoulder. “You’ll need it out there.”

You barely had time to attach the last handgun to your hip before Quaritch approached you again. "You ready, pretty?" He grinned down, hands resting on his hips. Without another word, he turned and led the way towards the rest of the marine team.

They lifted their heads, raising their eyebrows. "Who's that?" One of the only female members questioned, pointing at you.

"Our little scientist." The Colonel uttered, slinging an arm around your shoulder, "Play nice with her. She’s never been outside before.”

The team gazed at you, looking you up and down with a mix of curiosity and amusement at your height compared to Quaritch. Their eyes soon flickered to Quaritch's arm that was draped around you.

"New meat? The forest will eat her alive." The same female marine, Z-dog, smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

You heard Quaritch chuckle and felt his grip tighten around you as an act of reassurance. Or perhaps it was to keep you from running. "She’ll be fine. I’ll ensure she knows how to use more than just her brains out here."

Lyle, leaning casually against a nearby chair, grinned as he chimed in. "Oh, I bet you will, Colonel." There was a grin spreading across his face. "You always did have a soft spot for the smart ones. Just don’t get too distracted."

The team laughed, their voices rough and playful. Quaritch rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to deny it. "Don’t worry, Wainfleet. I can multitask. Besides, if you’re so concerned, why don’t you take her under your wing? Show her how the big boys play."

Lyle gave you an exaggerated once-over, his grin widening. "I dunno, boss. She might be too delicate for me. I wouldn’t want to break her."

Z-dog snorted. "Please. You’d be lucky if she didn’t break you first, Wainfleet. Don’t underestimate the quiet ones—they’ve got a lot of pent-up energy."

Quaritch raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. "You heard the lady, Wainfleet. Better watch yourself. Might just find out what this one’s capable of." He slapped you on the back.

You couldn’t help but blush at the teasing, not accustomed to it. Your science and medical coworkers never mocked each other; they were far too lost in their own worlds.

Another marine piped up with a grin. "Hey, just make sure you keep her out of trouble, Colonel. The last thing we need is her getting lost out here and us having to play rescue squad. Unless, of course, you’d enjoy being her knight in shining armour."

Quaritch huffed, giving his teammate a mocking glare. "I’m nobody’s damn knight. And she won’t need rescuing. Right, Doc?" He nudged you.

You nodded quickly, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "Right."

"Atta girl," Quaritch said with a grin. He gave your shoulder a light pat before stepping away, his authoritative tone taking over again. "Alright, enough with the jokes. We’ve got work to do."

The thick vegetation continuously slapped your oxygen mask, causing you to stumble every second. The suffocating air clung to you as you slowly trudged after the marine team. You noticed how Quaritch, who was at the front of the pack, would glance over his shoulder at you. You could tell in his gaze that he saw you as a liability.

After what felt like an hour of jogging through the forest, Quaritch abruptly stopped, raising a hand to signal to the others. The soldiers halted with practised ease. You, on the other hand, clumsily crashed into Lyle.

"Alright, Doc," Quaritch grunted, turning to face you. "Before we go any deeper, we need to ensure you know how to handle yourself. No point in lugging around dead weight."

You felt a lump form in your throat as he stepped closer, his tall figure casting a shadow over you. He gestured to the weapon slung over your back. "First lesson: how to use that thing. Have you ever fired a gun before? Or, are you more of a delicate touch type?"

Despite being covered from head to toe in weapons you had never held before, you knew you still looked out of place amongst the hardened soldiers surrounding you.

You shook your head quickly, trying not to let Quaritch's words fluster you. "No, sir. Never."

Quaritch smirked, clearly expecting your answer. "Figures. Well, you’re gonna learn fast." He grabbed your belt loop again, leading you a few steps away from the group. "See that tree? That’s your target."

"Hey, Colonel," Lyle called out, “Didn’t know you were into giving private lessons. Thought you left the hand-holding to Grace."

The other marines chuckled, their laughter low and suggestive. "Careful, boss," Another of them exclaimed. "You might have to be gentle with this one. Don’t want to scare her off."

Quaritch rolled his eyes, but the smirk never left his face. "Don’t worry, boys. I’ll go nice and slow for her. Gotta make sure she enjoys her first time, right?"

You blushed, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the suggestive jokes being tossed around. Quaritch stepped closer, grabbing your gun and handing it to you. Quaritch moved to stand behind you, his hands settling over yours on the rifle to line up the weapon with the tree.

"Feet shoulder-width apart. Don’t lean too far forward, unless you want to kiss the dirt.” Quaritch grabbed your hips, pulling you back. What must have been an insignificant touch to him felt huge for you. You had never let anyone touch you in that way, too busy with your academics. “Keep your grip tight; You’re aiming a gun, not giving it a massage."

Behind you, Lyle couldn’t resist another remark. "Hey, Colonel, careful where you’re putting those hands. Might give her the wrong idea."

Quaritch shot him a sideways glance, his smirk turning into a full grin. "Jealous, Wainfleet? Don’t worry, I’ll let you hold her hand next."

Behind you, the marines barely held back their laughter as they leaned against the nearby trees. "Colonel, you gonna take her to prom next?" Z-dog teased, earning another round of chuckles.

Quaritch laughed lowly before returning to you to whisper the instructions in your ear. You took a shaky breath, nodding your head to his words. You shifted from side to side, steadying yourself before you squeezed the trigger.

The rifle's recoil almost knocked you off your feet. Lucky for you, Quarditch was there to catch you.

"Oh, Colonel's getting handsy," Lyle exclaimed. The bullet you had shot grazed the side of the tree trunk, missing the target.

Z-dog laughed. “Maybe you should teach her to aim at something a little closer, Colonel. Like you."

Quaritch didn’t miss a beat. "She doesn’t need to aim at me—she’s already got me in her sights." He loudly clapped his hands together, gaining your attention again. "This time, don’t overthink it. Just line it up and shoot."

You nodded, focusing on the tree once more. This time, you steadied yourself better, and your muscles started to faintly remember the movements.

Quaritch gave a grunt of approval at your second attempt. "Better. Keep at it. You’ll get there."

You practised under Quaritch’s watchful eye for the next hour, gradually getting more comfortable with holding the rifle. The marines kept up their teasing, mainly aimed at their boss and how he was eying you like a hawk.

"Not bad, pretty," Quaritch finally muttered, his usual hardened gaze softening just a bit. "Maybe you won’t get us killed after all." He turned to the Marines, clearing his throat. "Let's move out."

The next time the group stopped was in a secluded part of the forest deep inside the jungle. Your gaze studied the trees and plants around you.

“This is it, Doc. Get to work.” Quaritch handed you the rest of your tools. Lyle sat down on a rock, fidgeting with his gun.

At first, you were so focused on collecting samples that you didn’t notice the eyes following your every movement. You could hear the quiet shuffling of Quaritch, Lyle, and the other marines as they spread out to keep guard. They continued with their teasing banter to pass the time.

As you crouched down to get a better look at some glowing moss, you could feel Quaritch’s gaze on you—intense, and not exactly subtle. The other marines noticed too. His eyes trailed over you, lingering on your body.

You tried to avoid talking to the soldiers as best as you could, desperate to return to the lab so you could study your samples. That was your definition of fun.

Your silence was interrupted by Lyle crouching down beside you. “Careful with those flowers, Doc. They look like they bite.” You glanced at the cluster of spiky flowers, shrugging.

“They don’t.” You quietly murmured.

“Well, if they do, I bet I could beat them.”

Quaritch, overhearing Lyle’s nonsense, shook his head. “That’s ironic, Wainfleet, considering you’ve lost every fight against me.”

“Yeah but you ain’t a flower, Colonel.”

Quaritch sly grinned before looking at you. “You sure you don’t need any help, pretty?” You quickly shook your head in response. The last thing you needed was a soldier ruining your research.

“Watch out for the Colonel’s ‘help.’ He’s got a way of making it sound real nice, but before you know it, you’re running laps around the base at 0500." Lyle pitched in.

Quaritch rolled his eyes, standing up and slapping Lyle on the back of the head. “Thats only if you keep running your mouth, Wainfleet. Which reminds me, you still owe me ten laps from yesterday. You can start now.” With a groan, Lyle stood up, leaving your side to run his dreaded laps.

You were pleasantly surprised that you had not tripped yet. You were naturally clumsy, always managing to make a mess out of the simplest of tasks. You walked forward to look at another flower but a vine that was hidden within the foliage caught you off guard.

You tripped and fell with a large thud, catching the attention of everyone nearby. Quaritch walked over to help you but not before laughing. “Careful.” He teasingly warned. The Colonel made no attempts in hiding how he eyed your body up and down. “You gotta watch where you step. Though, I gotta say, I don’t mind the view.”

You quickly scrambled to your feet, cheeks heating up. Lyle, who had been watching intently, snickered. “You sure you’re just out here for the plants, sir? No other reason?”

You were ready to head back for the day before a plant in the distance caught your attention. “I’ll be quick.” You muttered to Quaritch, hoping he’d let you look at it. He nodded after a long pause.

“I’ll go with her. The rest of you, stay here.” He ordered his soldiers before following after you. You had a skip in your step as you carefully manoeuvred through the maze of tree roots but you were soon too distracted to keep up the pace. Quaritch easily overtook you as you scribbled messy notes into a small notebook.

You were almost at the plant before you slipped again. You mentally cursed at your clumsiness and inability to stay focused of your surroundings. You couldn’t catch yourself in time before stumbling into Quaritch. The impact was enough to send him forward but he quickly turned so his back would take the brunt of the fall. You landed on top of him with a soft grunt, hitting your head on his shoulder.

You took a few moments to regain your breath before you felt Quaritch’s hands rest on your hips. “If you wanted to lie on top of me, pretty, you could have just said so.” He teased. “I always knew you scientists had a habit of being direct but this is a little much, don’t you think?”

You quickly pushed yourself up. “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to!” This was the loudest Quaritch had ever heard you talk. He could barely hear your whispers sometimes, having to lean down to understand your words.

“I ain’t complaining but unless you’re into dangerous places, you might wanna save this stuff for when we’re not in the middle of an alien jungle.” He drawled, causing your body to heat up with embarrassment. He didn’t let you stand up, wanting to see how much of a reaction he could draw out.

Lyle peaked his head around a bush, having heard the sound of you falling. “Are you guys gonna keep us waiting for long while you deal with all that tension? Because I have some coffee I’d really like to drink back at the base.”

“Calm your horses, Wainfleet. We’ll be there in a second.” Quaritch responded, letting you go like he hadn’t purposefully held you down.

In the end, you got the plant and you returned to the base safe and sound. You had expected the Colonel’s attention to be a one time thing but he followed you into the lab.

Grace arched an eyebrow at his appearance. “Here she is, Augustine, safe and sound like I promised.” Quaritch grinned, patting you on the shoulder. “The next time I need a scientist, I want her.” You were already scrambling towards your workspace, laying out your samples.

Quaritch turned to leave but he flashed you another grin. “See you later, pretty.” He called out.

[astrid-sorensen]

The Farmhouse | Joel Miller x f!reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏғ ʀᴇᴀᴅ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5ᴋ

MASTERLIST

"Kiss me." You asked, muted. “No.” He grunted. “I ain't your boyfriend.” He whispered coldly. The words stung in the air.

Joel might have been the most closed off person you have ever met. The only sound filling the room was Ellie's repetitive giggles as she read through her book.

The pages between one hand and a sandwich in the other. You had known Joel for a few days now, learning nothing about the man except he was from Texas. Except, there had to be something behind his stoic facade, I mean he had saved you after all.

The cordycept was hurtling behind you, darkness filled the library as feet slapped patterned tile. At the end was a light, a door held open by the brawn brunette male.

With little time to spare you'd passed him, the tall rectangular wooden door sealing shut behind you.

Panting short breaths out your lungs, you stepped down the grey stone steps towards a young teen, who you would soon learn was Ellie.

"Thank you! Oh my god! Thank you!" You turned to face the man, only now getting a good view of him.

The skin complimented the golden undertone of his flesh. Thick black and grey hair sprouted along his hairline.

A week or two later, all three of you rested for the night. You'd found a small abandoned gas station, gracing Ellie with a sleep on an old, leather couch.

You and Joel shared the abused brown linoleum, not much more than a foot between you. You rolled to your side, staring at the back of Joel's head as you debated your next move.

His wide shoulders were now in front of you. You couldn't stop yours fingers from slowly shaking over his skin, tentatively. "What are you doing?" His low voice, cutting through the air like a guillotine.

"C'mon, I've seen the way you look at me." You breathed, confidently.

"Don't be ridiculous." He spat back. Not moving away from you as you continued exploring him.

"What's stopping you. This could be our last night alive, and I haven't been fucked in so long."

Joel heaved a big sigh. You fingers continued to dance under his shirt.

Joel held his breath a moment longer silently begging you would stop before he'd give into his needs.

He needed to let off some steam, some pent up angst, he needed a release.

But alas, you didn't stop. The pads of your fingers grazed circles to his stomach slowly pressing down harder before going gentler again. Articulating your craving for him.

There was a soft layer of hair all over him and you felt the resistance as you moved your hand through it.

Feeling it thicken towards the centre of his abdomen and chest and then thin once you run it towards you again.

The next thing you know he's pulling you up onto his warm strong thighs, the denim scraping against your leggings.

His hands trapped you onto his legs leaving no room for you to move as he grinned upwards, his length hardening at the friction.

You felt your core moisten a cheeky smile grazing across your lips with pride as your hands went to his broad well built upper body.

One hand ran to your clit, rubbing the area as the wetness collected into the fabric, Joel could feel it seeping through.

He tugged at the waist of them, watching where your bodies met as you sat up on you knees letting him help you tear them off along with your panties.

He pulled you back on top of him, his knees widening to a v as he planted his feet firmly to the floor.

Knees bent to keep you in place, exactly where he wanted you. He continued pulverising into a rythm.

His lip caught between his teeth, the frown on his face deepening though you thought that wasn't possible.

You fingers moved to his jeans, fumbling on the belt as he nudged you off, undoing the leather band and buttons himself.

Then shuffling them down his thighs, so his cock could spring free.

One hand to the flesh of your ass the other to the base of his genitals, rubbing the sensitive skin of his tip between you lips, lubing it up.

He was slow, taking care as you felt your body build with excitement, craving to finally have him fill you up inside just as you'd anticipated.

The thought of how well endowed he was had crossed your mind more than once. At least you finally had your answer, and you were not disheartened.

He run up your slick one last time before finally pushing into the wet opening.

He felt your pussy crowning around the tip of his dick.

His jaw swung open and in that moment you knew this must of felt as good as it did for you as it did him.

He pulled his hips back, his tip almost slipping out before he moved back up replacing it to where it once was. His thumb rubbed at your cliterous.

This man was skilful, your body squeezing him to fit him inside.

Eventually he slid all the way in, your body tense and gripping around him. Both his hands squeezed at your ass, massaging into the flesh as he began bouncing you on his dick.

"Kiss me." You asked, muted.

"No." He grunted. "I ain't your boyfriend." He whispered coldly. The words stung in the air.

I know your not my boyfriend

A moan run from your mouth.

"Shut up, don't want Ellie hearing."

Another gasp fell from you lips.

"What did I just fuckin' say?" He grumbled, stilling as you felt your pussy pulsing around his length. Your hips bucked trying to gain some friction but it was no use against his strength, stilling you.

He moved a burly hand to your face, his thumb and pointer, clamping into your flushed cheeks as his palm cupped your mouth.

You whimpered into his skin, your neck straightening as he carried on, brutally fucking up into you.

Your hands lay against his chest, holding your balance, though you weren't sure if you needed to.

You crossed your arms over the hem of your shirt lifting the fabric before Joel swiped them off, you losing your grip of the cotton.

"Stop tryin' take your clothes off." He whispered, sternly.

"Why not?"

"If we gotta run, you gonna be focused on that shirt tryna pull it back on." Joel uttered into the night.

"Fine." You grumbled. It wasn't how you'd imagined, but I guess beggars can't be choosers.

Soon his rythm became sloppy, his end nearing as well as yours.

His wet thrusts kneading into where you needed him most.

"You close?" You nodded frantically, squeezing his hand your breast as his joined in. After a few more pumps you were letting go, stilling as you felt your whole body freeze, clamping down on him as electric shocks ran through you.

He fucked you hard through your release, edging on his own. You were spent, your whole body softening as Joel used you to satisfy himself further.

Fingertips gripping harshly into your hips as he pulled them down onto him.

Heavy breaths leaving this lungs. His large hands seized you by your ribs and quickly pulled you off, throwing you in between his legs as he palmed himself into oblivion. His cum spurting up into fountains then falling down into the base of his pubes.

A gorgeous hot flush was over him. His greyed hair slightly damp and lost some of its volume. A sheen coated his forehead as he brought a hand up to it, combing slowly down his hairline before gripping the crown.

Regaining composure.

He gave himself a second to catch his breath before reaching for the bottom of the curtain, ripping of a piece of fabric and cleaning himself up before pulling his jeans back up and righting his clothes to how they were before.

He made no eye contact as he did this, then turning onto his side away from you just like he had been before.

You sat, shocked and hurt. You ached for the intimacy, praying he would drag you over to him and pull you into his clutches. He didn't.

"Sleep, long day tomorrow." He stated, before falling completely silent. You moved pulling your leggings back on and crawling over to where you originally set up camp. Closing your eyes and begging for sleep to swallow you.

You woke the next morning to Ellie nudging at your sleep. "Hey wake up! I'm really fucking hungry and were outta food."

You grumbled, sitting up from where you had lead on the carpet, rubbing a sore knot in your shoulder to ease the pain from sleeping on the floor. Joel and Ellie were all packed, bags on their backs and guns in hand.

—

"Hey, how's watch going?"

"Fine." He replied, avoiding your gaze. God this man was difficult. There was an awkward silence as you waited. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked.

"Nah, restless." You moped. "Has anything ever snuck up on you when you were sleeping then? You know, cos you always insist on keeping watch and stuff."

"No." The male began. "But you can never be too careful."

"Hmm, I'd say fuck it. Get your sleep. Can't be killing cordys, running on an hours nap."

"Yeah but you also needed me to save your ass back there. So I think I'll stick on the side of precaution."

"Touché." You nodded, wandering aimlessly around. "You know, there's a reason I couldn't sleep."

Joel didn't answer but turned to look at you, a bored look plastered across his face, one eyebrow slightly perked in interest. "I was wondering if you wanted another repeat of the other night, you seemed to enjoy yourself."

"So did I." You flirted, eyes gazing up at the man as you wondered towards his direction.

He looked you up and down before returning his gaze into the distance, gun still firmly held against his chest. He chewed his lip, seemingly at war with himself. An entire ethical debate going on behind those black coffee eyes.

You lifted your fingers to his jawline, caressing the scraggly coarse hair of his face, scratching lightly at the skin underneath. You run it down to the exposed part of his chest, just between the collarbones before undoing a button, teasing further.

He swiped your hand off harshly slapping it away. Joel swivelled his gun down beside him.

"You want me to fuck you again?" He gritted through his teeth, half a question, half an answer.

"Mmhm." You nodded, cheekily.

"Right here?" He scowled, signally to where you were stood. The look of his face was disrespectful.

"Yep." Joel shook his head, sighing before looking around, pulling his gun off and putting it to the floor.

"Leggings down, now." He ordered. A smile crawled onto your lips, moving your fingers to the waistband of your pants, pulling them down innocently as you waited for his next order.

"Gotta be quick."

He said nothing as he pushed at you waist, edging you to turn around. He pushed you further, causing you to stumble forward til you reached the trunk of the old abandoned car.

You leant forward, arms bent up to rest your head on instead of the cold rusty metal of the car. Joel placed two hands to your ass cheeks, spreading your legs apart as he dived between them.

He spat into his hand cupping you sex and rubbing quickly, preparing you for him. He stood up, one hand flat to your lower back as he levelled himself to your hole.

"Do you want this cock?" He whispered, darkly.

"Yes, Joel. Please fuck me." You whimpered, bucking your hips back into him, but he held you in place with a deathly grip.

"Fucking Slut, you gotta be real quiet for me though." You hummed as he pressed in, forcing himself between your folds.

You cried out quickly, biting your lip to stifle the sound.

He fucked into you with violent force, your hips bones pressing into the vehicle. You felt his soft huffs behind you, the brunt force making the car rattle.

He carried on a moment longer before pushing up the back of you jacket to lay a kiss to your tailbone. "Too loud." He pulled you off, arms crossing underneath your own and lifting you a metre to the side like a toddler.

He kept one arm there, the muscle holding you up as he inserting himself again. He fucked into you harshly, the only sounds were his wet thrusts slapping into you.

You wined, rewarding you with a firm grasp of his hand against the sides of your throat. His breath heaved in the delicate eardrum of your ears. You gasped for air, you knees buckling as you came to your finish.

Shaking around him. He felt you go floppy, moving his hand down and watching you fall onto the leaves below. He moved behind you, angling your hips up so you were now on your hand and knees.

He braced your hips as he connected with you again, brutal thrusts into you from behind til you could tell he was close. Within an instant you felt him pull out, hot wet spurts on your ass as he came.

He admired the view, swiping off his ejaculate with his hand and handing it to you. You watched him innocently. He moved his fingers to your mouth and you sucked off the juice that was there. You pulled off and he twisted his hand, motioning you to clean it off. You waited patiently as he checked to see if there was anymore, finding some leaking between his thumb and pointer.

You swiped it off, the feeling sticky and salty on your tongue, swallowing all the residue down. He pulled his jeans back up, doing up his belt before fetching his gun he'd left on the floor. You followed pulling up your leggings.

"Go sleep." He ordered.

"You know I could keep watch for a while."

"No. Go to sleep, I'm not gonna ask again."

You wondered back, slumping to the floor and curling up under the blanket. You slept well after that.

—

"Are you ever gonna look at me again?" You scoffed, half joking, half annoyed. He didn't reply. "Hey, what's your fucking problem?"

"I'm just tryna get me and Ellie to Wyoming, I don't know what your so goddam pressed about."

"We had sex okay, it happened. You don't have to keep in a 10 mile radius from me."

"You asked me to fuck you and I did. Stop acting like it's anythin' more than that."

"Seriously, Joel I'm a fucking person! Or has it not occurred to you that I have feelings?"

"Not my problem."

"God Joel, your such a cunt."

He huffed.

"You were just somethin' to put my dick in. Nothing more than that." He cursed out, cruely.

Goddamit Joel, that was harsh. Where the hell did that come from?

He thought to himself.

You eyebrows raised, hurt but not surprised. Joel was cruel, Joel was cold. Your eyes then shut, a bigger smile crossing your lips as you stormed into another room, tossing down your jacket and curling up. Allowing the tears to roll down soothing yourself with them.

—

Ellie woke to the sun, shining through the newspaper clad windows, as she rose from her bed for the night. She went to wake up Joel who was already sat up, sorting through his things.

"Good morning!" She said cheerily, scanning the room quickly before asking. "Where's she gone?" Joel signalled his head to one side as Ellie wondered round and knocked on the door.

"Hey, you up yet?" There was no reply as she entered finding a bare room. She traipsed out poking her head into the other before returning to Joel. "Which one she in?"

"Next door."

"By next door do you mean in another motel, cos she sure as hell ain't there."

"What?" He growled, jumping from where he was sat and storming into the other room before booting into the next and the next. Your name rang through the halls, echoing across the bare property.

Joel ran, poking his head out to the distance. Then running to the opposite side, seeing your grey clad frame, wondering off. "Wait there!" You turned noticing the man before you began running, bolting across the field to the safety of the trees.

"God I'm too old for this." He huffed, catching his breath. You stopped running once he caught up, no reason to keep up the chase whilst he'd definitely gain on you and practically tackle you to the floor if it was what it takes.

"Fuck off Joel!" You spat, avoiding eye contact as you kept your head firmly ahead, not too certain where you were really going.

"No, about what I said."

"Oh you mean the part where you told me I wasn't even a person to you? Just a hole to put your dick in." If I remember correctly. In fact you did remember clearly, very clearly, too clearly.

"I mean" "I mean, I didn't mean it." "I didn't know what to say to you." "Fuck I'm no good at this."

"No your really not." You grumbled continuing to walk on.

"I'm tryna tell you I'm sorry."

"Oh, it was nothing. We're even, See ya!" You mocked.

"Please stay, if not just for me, for Ellie. Your the only one that gets through to her." "She loves you."

"She does not love me."

"She does, I'm old. I know that stuff when I see it. She always wakes you up first, she never picks arguments and she never walks on without you. She trusts you. "You know she'll never believe it wasn't her fault you left."

Fuck how could you do that to her, everyone she's ever loved has left her one way or another. She at least deserves a goodbye. And here wasn't the time.

"Please, don't fuckin' leave," His gruff voice broke.

"Okay, one more night." You started. "So I can say goodbye."

"Hey where the fuck were you running?" Ellie called, jointing you were you were in the clearing.

"Just tryna get a head start, your still pretty hungry aren't you?" You teased.

"Oh man, I could eat a whole horse." She laughed. You joined in letting her catch up to you as all three of you went off into the woods. The plan was to head west, go round the next town over and carry on til you found somewhere to sleep for the night.

You walked for what felt like days, taking frequents rests to put up your feet before you kept going. You were almost through the last step of your journey for the day. You'd hiked round the small town of Arlington, coming up to a country house just a couple miles out the city. The place you were coming up to was perfect, a large white farmhouse, black windows and a porch. Now you think about it it kinda reminded you of bill and franks although more secluded. The tall grass was wetter here than it was back in Boston, slightly muddying and green and almost reached you knees as you wading through, watching dusk fall over the hills.

"Woah! This is perfect!" Ellie beamed, a wide grin ear to ear in excitement. Moss had grown up the walls almost completely covering the once lavish family abode.

As you got close enough to make out the colour of the window frames, a dark brown beige, you felt a burning feeling flush over your thigh. You all ducked, hands shielding your body and chest loosly as you looked around.

At first you felt as although you had wet yourself. God this was embarrassing, until a loud echo followed. Finally registering in your brain. Your legs buckled under your weight, falling into the long grass.

You looked down to your leg, almost as if it were in slow motion. You saw your leggings dampen and a small amount of skin shown through the rip of the fabric. And it was red. So red. A gushing pool coating you as you heard more shots go off.

"Stay down!" Joel yelled, the deep gargle emitting from his chest in desperation. Almost on cue, agonising whimpers leaving your mouth as you held you hands to it.

Need to put pressure on it.

Was the only thought running through your rampant psyche. Ellie had crawled off in front, perching behind a shrub as Joel pulled out his gun, lying on his front as he angled it up to the house, towards the fence he saw the shots come over. "Fuck!" You cried out, attempting to crawl.

Joel bounded over to you, one arm under you knees and the other under your arms as he pulled you into him with haste. "Hold on tight." He demanded, leaving no room for debate.

"Joel get behind that car, you can get a better shot."

"No, I gotta to get you somewhere safe first." He snarled, as he ran as fast as he could, you hands gripping tighter to him as you bounced in his arms. He darted to the short stone wall leaped over it and dropping you to the floor behind, catching his breath and he got his largest gun into a better hold. "Don't fucking move." There was a small softness around his stern words. Those earnest iris' bleeding into your own.

You lay your head back against the bricks. Panting as you held on tightly to your leg.

Goddam this fucking hurts

There was shot after shot, echoing across the fields and into the distance.

"C'mon, let's get you inside." He picked you up again, pacing quickly towards the house. He must've took care of the shooter. Ellie ran ahead. Joel kicked down the back door heaving you inside and bringing you to the nearest seat.

You flopped down, one hand tightly griping into your hair. Joel found a cloth and placed it harshly onto the wound, your own arms folding up as you seethed in pain, muscles tensing and contracting.

He lifted the fabric, inspecting the would quickly before covering it again. He was knelt to your side both hands down as he held them straight in place.

"Ellie, you find anything?" He called. You felt dizzy and sick, agony washing over you again and again, each wave stronger than the last. Tears were welling in Joel's eyes unable to hold them back his shell shocked look terrifying you even more.

You couldn't make out her response. You turned your head to the side, a heave of vomit coming out as Joel held you there with his shoulder. You were too weak to do it yourself. "Ok, keep looking!" You felt the dizzying again.

Please don't throw up again.

Joel watched your eyes lull back and go floppy, he tapped on your face trying to bring you back.

"Hey, hey." He said, following with your name. "C'mon, stay awake for me." He moved, opting to lift your injured leg into the air, hoping to help some of the blood flow.

Ellie handed something reluctantly to Joel, he looked down at it briefly, chewing on his jaw before getting to work Joel ripped the fabric of your leggings with one harsh rip, the one leg  of the fabric now it two for ease of access.

You eyes woke again.

What was going on?

Where the hell where you?

The whole place was rotten and mouldy, broken concrete everywhere. The wallpaper had been ripped at as if some had tried to scale it.

He threaded the needle, you saw white as he began. Curling the needle through your flesh. You screamed begging him to stop, crying in pain.

You fell out of consciousness, giving Joel a few seconds to carry on before you woke again, screaming the strength for him to stop. Blood had coated his whole hands, dripping onto the carpet.

"I know, I know, I know it hurts." He gritted, eyes fixed on your mutilated form. Soon he finished up, pulling the thread tight as it weaved through you flesh.

He pulled the needle off .

"It's over now." Joel sighed in relief, grateful he managed to finish it off. You head lulled back, hitting the sofa arm as a bittersweet bliss engulfed you for a short while, the excruciating pain of being sewn up finally completed.

You stayed conscious for a few minutes longer, moans and groans through you til you found some solace in sleep.  "Hey soldier." He said, your eyes fluttering before looking over to him. You looked down to see a thick heavy cloth strap tightly around your wound. "Did your nap help?"

"A little, still fucking hurts like a bitch though." you croaked.

"Well, there's a decent looking bed upstairs, do wanna sleep up there?" You nodded, letting the man pick you up how he did earlier and slowly take you up the stairs. You dug your nails into his shoulders as your leg grazed him, pain sizzling through your nerves. A soft whimper fell into the air.

"Where's Ellie?"

"She's sleeping, theres a little kids room. Countless comic books she's rummaging through." The floorboards creaked as you reached the top floor, Joel carrying through the door way with care.

He gently placed you down, shaking off a dusty quilt before slowly draping it over you. He disappeared.

"Here." He said handing you an open can of spaghetti hoops. Your stomach growled at the view.

"Thanks."

You gobbled it quickly, the Texan moving to the space next to you to sit down. He pulled you carefully to lie on his chest. You were far too tired to put up a fight. Plus he was much comfier than the flat lumpy pillows. "We need to find more food."

"Your injured, need to rest."

"No, we need to find food." You said firmly.

"I'll take care of that."

"What by yourself?" You mocked, rudely. He didn't laugh. "Joel I'm still leaving, once my leg is good and I got some food, we're going our separate ways."

"Downstairs got a fireplace," He began, hesitantly. "Probably some good soil out back and it's not far from the city to find supplies." He muttered, shyly. "Plus I think I could fix the stove, maybe."

"Joel it's not gonna work. I'm-."

"Wait," You shook your head, having none of it. "Fuck, woman." He groaned. His hands had grabbed your face, pining it to the headboard in a rigid grip.

"Joel-"

"I-I need, you." He spilled, the words leaving his mouth like a broken dam.

He gravitated in.

Desperation overcoming him as he pressed his small plump lips to your dry ones, moistening them softly with his own. The grimace on his face was too intense to miss.

His dark eyes begging, pleading with you. This was killing him truly, get himself open to show you his insides.

But there was something there you hadn't seen on him before, a softness.

His rigidness blunted at the corners. "Okay? I fucking need you, I've almost lost you before, I'm not risking it again."

"What?"

He played with your lips, grazing them carefully so they only just touched as he spoke against you still.

"Don't you dare fucking leave me in this world alone." Both of your eyes were sealed shut. conveying so much love and passion as his hands held you in place.

He broke off, looking you fervently in the eyes as you looked back into chocolate ones, seeing so much vulnerability and tenderness. "Don't you dare."

He searched your face, his brows tightly embroidered together and little downwards frown on his lips.

"Okay, okay I won-"

He slowly went down you neck, kissing the skin softly. He lay small warm kisses to the collum of your neck. Something has possessed this man.

"God I need you so bad right now." He grumbled in a mild undertone.

"Do it then." He shook his head firmly, objecting.

"No, your leg."

"Don't worry, plus it might help with the pain." Joel pondered, his brown eyes wandering off into the distance.

"I have an idea." He crawled down the bed, gently tearing your other legging up you thigh, laying soft kisses as he did so. Soon he reached the top leaving you in just your underwear and you pr t shirt on top.

He slowly moved you good leg up, bending it at the knee as he pressed on the exposed part of your thigh, easing his access.

He lay a kiss too your wetness, your heart pounding in your ears. Joel started helping you take your shirt off.

"What happened to always being prepared?" You quizzed.

"It's safe here. Plus I can't resist."

"What if someone gets in."

"They won't." He growled. He laid back down, gentle kisses.

You inhaled sharply through your teeth. Jaw clenching since you'd tensed your limb trying to chase the high. "Try stay still, gorgeous." He said, his eyelashes fluttering down so he didn't see your response.

The word fell from his mouth like it was the easiest thing it the world. Like he called you that all the time, like it was made for you.

You heart fluttered, your hand moving to his hair to comb through it, gently scratching at his scalp to encourage him on. Shorts pants left your lips, your release nearby.

Your couldn't control your pelvis tilting at the motion your hole clenching, begging for something to fill it. As if on cue, Joel's thick finger poked at where you wanted him.

The action earning him your body's praise.

"J-Joel." You moaned, he softly hushed you, affectionately.

Your eyes squeezing shut as you came.

"Joel, that was the best." He pulled off his shirt and jeans, climbing in beside you before tucking you both into the blanket as you cosied tightly into him.

His hand pushing all your hair of your shoulder so he could grip your face.

He pulled you tightly into his chest, one hand gripping your neck with so much force you thought it would fracture.

"Good, get some sleep. You need your strength back." He kissed your forehead, the warmth flushing across your face.

[livwritesstuff]

boston pride is today so here have an edited repost from when i walked in the parade last year

Steve is getting boring in his old age (forty-four, almost).

It was inevitable, he supposes when he looks back, and he likes being boring. 

He likes the steady routine of the life he and Eddie (married for seven years, now) have built with their three daughters (four, seven, and nearly ten, a notion Steve is choosing to ignore because there’s no goddamn way Moe nearly has an entire decade under her belt already), and he doesn’t find himself making attempts to mix things up all that often.

Naturally, Eddie is the one to suggest they make the trip into Boston with their daughters for the annual Pride parade, and when he does, Steve isn’t automatically inclined to agree.

Look – Steve knows it’s important for kids to see the world and do new things and all that enriching shit, but maybe he still bears some of the scars from keeping a semi-feral pack of teenagers alive amidst the eldritch hellscape of their hometown, and it’s not like they don’t keep themselves entertained at home – Hazel had finally got the gist of Go-Fish not too long ago and that’s been a whole new ballgame Steve is perfectly content to continue exploring.

In the end, however, the logical side of him (and Eddie’s ever-persistent badgering) wins out, and come mid-June of 2011, they all make the drive into Boston to see the parade.

It doesn’t take Steve long at all to acknowledge that it was a good idea. He hadn’t been to Pride in many years (again – he’s boring in his old age), and he’d forgotten how much fun it is – a true celebration of love and happiness in the face of a lot of fucked up shit and all that. The parade’s pretty good too (definitely a few floats he hopes the girls are too distracted chasing after candy to notice and ask questions about later, but only time will tell), and so is the festival afterwards. It ends up being a really great time for all of them.

Of the whole day, though, Steve’s favorite part is the trip home, a drive that should have only been thirty minutes, but turns into nearly two hours with all the traffic on I-90.

The girls are still riding the sugar rush of an afternoon’s worth of lemonade and fried dough and candy thrown from parade floats (Hazel might be succumbing though, if Steve’s quick glances in the rear-view mirror at the way her eyes are drooping closed are anything to go off of), and it seems as if the day’s contagious joy had followed them into the car. Robbie and Moe have been asking a lot of questions – mostly chatter about what floats were everyone’s favorites and who got the best face paint until Moe, perceptive as she’s always been, hits them with, “What’s Pride for?”

Which turns into, “Why do people think it’s a bad thing?” and that becomes, “So how did you and Papa fall in love?” at which point Eddie, who’d been fielding their daughters' questions so Steve could keep his focus on the stop-and-go highway traffic, launches into a dramatic and involved retelling of how their relationship had begun nearly eighteen years ago.

“So I told him that I liked him and what do you think Papa said?” Eddie eventually asks as he approaches the end of the story.

“What?” the girls ask with eager smiles and wide eyes.

“Nothing,” Eddie says ruthlessly, a wicked grin on his face.

“Alright,” Steve cuts in over the laughter coming from the backseat, “Let’s not be dramatic. I said something...eventually, and it wasn’t even that long later – four hours tops.”

“That’s right,” Eddie concedes, “And then we all lived happily ever after and all that jazz.”

“Good,” Robbie says, “’Cos if you hadn’t, today wouldn’t happen.”

“Hate to break it to you, sweet pea,” Steve replies, “but I’m pretty sure Pride would still happen even if Dad and I weren’t there for it.”

“We wouldn’t be here," Moe corrects him, "All together.”

Steve blinks.

Jesus Christ, these kids are gonna be the death of him. Can’t drive the damn car if his eyes are misting over, can he?

“Yeah,” Eddie says as he reaches over to curve his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, “Yeah, bug, that’s true.”

And thanks goodness for that.

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Mickey didn't usually take the kid grocery shopping but this Saturday, Lana plainly told him that she was busy so he'd have to watch over him- which could've meant anything. He was fairly sure she'd said that so she could have some time to herself, and had problem with interrupting his time to himself.

Fuckin' fine.

So here they were, going through the aisles while Yev did his best to pull the cart, standing on his tiptoes to reach the handle.

"Daddy, can we get cookies?"

"Sure, whatever," Mickey answered distractedly. He was usually here alone, usually every weekend around the same time.

Yev cheered, tossing in the package of chocolate chip.

"Daddy," he said for the umpteenth time that morning, "what's banging mean?"

"What?" He turned to face his son.

"Aunt Mandy said you needed to bang people," Yev reminded him. Shit, he heard that.

Yeah, Mandy opened her big fucking mouth when she found out that he didn't have any weekend plans. Said he needed to get out there and bang somebody.

"Nothing, forget about it," Mickey wasn't about to explain any of this to a six year old. He tried to focus on the shelf in front of him but Yev was stubborn.

"But what does it mean?"

"Nothing," Mickey said, only for his arm to be tugged on relentlessly. "Yev, quit it!"

"I wanna knowww," Yev whined. "Please?"

What the fuck ever. "Fine, it means-" He thought about it real quick, "to hangout in a special way that only grown ups do. Got it?"

Yev looked thoughtful. "Oh."

"Yeah. Now let go and stand by the cart," Mickey ordered.

"Okay, Daddy!" Yev gave him a sweet smile, as if he hadn't just been a huge annoyance.

Mickey rolled his eyes, ruffling his hair. Fuckin' kids, man.

Thank God Yev wasn't prone to tantrums. He was going through the whole store bouncing and asking if they were going to get this or that and Mickey had to grab him by the shoulders, pulling him close.

"Ay, chill, little man. You want that pizza when we're done, right?"

Yev nodded eagerly.

"Then calm down and stay still," Mickey instructed.

"Okay!" Yev hugged him by the waist, refusing to let go so Mickey had to walk carefully.

"You're a little shithead, you know that?" He muttered.

"Just like Aunt Mandy is a bitch, right?" Yev chose that moment to increase his voice, so Mickey was pretty sure the people a couple of aisles over heard him. On this one, he received a few nasty looks which he ignored.

"Just keep moving," Mickey gave him a gentle push.

"But that's what you say," Yev said, confused. "Cuz Aunt Mandy calls you assface all the time."

"Jesus..." Mickey was ready for this shopping trip to be over already. Next time Lana was gonna take care of the kid. "Let's just go pay for this shit, alright?"

He ushered them over to the checkout area and if he deliberately chose the one with the fucking hot redhead, well it was his fucking business.

The one cashier, Ian, was possibly behind Mickey's reasoning for shopping on this specific day of the week at this specific time. he felt like a fucking teenage girl every time he came here, anticipating on seeing the guy and only talking for a couple minutes at most. But it was this interaction that, even though he hated to admit it, he looked forward to.

Mickey was putting their groceries on the conveyor belt, completely forgetting he had a six year old with him when his son marched up to the front after the customer in front of them went through.

"Hi!"

Mickey's head snapped up.

"Hello there, what's your name?" Ian asked kindly.

"Yevgeny. But my daddy calls Yev," his son said, then tapped his chin with his pointer finger. "He also calls me a shithead."

Ian snorted in surprise. Mickey's face was warming up.

"I didn't know you had a son," Ian said a he began scanning the items.

"Uh...yeah but I ain't together with his mom," Mickey said, trying to come off as nonchalant.

"That's cuz Daddy likes boys," Yev said promptly. "Do you like boys, Mister?"

Stop fucking talking, Mickey groaned internally. Fucking please.

He was about to tell Ian he didn't have to answer, and tell his own kid to shut the fuck up but Ian responded anyway with a big fucking smile.

"I do like boys," he spared Mickey a glance as he'd said it, filling him with fucking hope of all things.

Did this guy, the same guy that Mickey had been wondering about for weeks now - wondering because he didn't pine fuck you very much - just put himself out there that he was interested?

"You do?" Yev's face split into a wide grin. "Does that mean you'll bang my daddy?"

All at once, the time stopped, the earth stopped moving and Mickey thought he heard a faint gasp behind him. All the blood rushed to his face after that.

He wanted to die. Fucking die and let the ground swallow him whole. It would be infinitely better than this hell he'd found himself in.

Mickey didn't even want to know what Ian was thinking right now. He spared a glance at him, seein' his head ducked and shoulders shaking with laughter. "It ain't that fucking funny," he muttered.

Of course, Yev didn't get the fucking hint to shut up and just kept on blabbing. "Aunt Mandy says he needs to bang somebody cuz...cuz he needs to get out there!"

Jesus Christ, why didn't this kid ever shut up?

"Yev, go pick out some candy," Mickey said through grit teeth.

Yev beamed. "Okay!" He immediately went to pick out some candy bars, oblivious to the embarrassment he'd put his father through.

Mickey averted his eyes while waiting for Ian to finish scanning. "Uh, sorry about that, man."

"Don't worry about it," Ian's eyes sparkled with mirth. "He's a cute kid."

"Yeah, sure." He was a lot less cute in times like these. Or when he screamed bloody murder trying to get away from him when it was bath time.

He didn't know if he expected something else to happen or what, but nothing did. Mickey paid, pushed back his disappointment, then took all the groceries and Yev out to the parking lot to start loading up the car.

"You better stop repeating what your aunt says," Mickey scolded his son.

"Why?"

"Cuz-" The word died on his tongue when Ian came out of the store, still dressed in his uniform. He went right towards them, some longer pieces of hair bouncing in the slight breeze.

"Hi, Mister!" Yev exclaimed. "Are you gonna-" Mickey smoothly clasped a hand over his mouth.

"Whaddya need, man?"

"Your number."

Mickey was so surprised that he let go of Yev's mouth. "Yeah?" he said.

"I know you've wanted mine," Ian said, squinting against the sun that was over him. "Why else would you come in my checkout lane every Saturday?"

"Hey, man. Maybe you're just better at it than all those other morons," Mickey knew the guy was right, but he wasn't about to let him know that.

"It's not the only thing I'm better at," Ian winked. Mickey's eyebrows flew up.

And he may or may not have needed to adjust himself when the opportunity arose...

"What else are you better at?" Yev asked innocently.

"I'm really good at video games," Ian came up with a quick lie, giving him a warm smile.

"So is Daddy!"

"Maybe we can test that out sometime?" Ian handed him a torn off piece of a paper that had his number on it. He was already starting to walk away. "I'll see you later-?"

"Mickey," he said.

"I'll see you later Mickey," Ian said and then called, "and you too, Yev!"

"Bye!" Yev shouted. He looked up at Mickey. "Are you gonna bang him, Daddy?"

God, I hope so, Mickey thought.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 7

Source for pic

Firestarter 7

Word Count: 4883

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: Just enjoy this one 🥰

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter| | |Next Chapter🔞|

You get home early by party standards, but it is still past midnight and Shanks is already in bed, so you try your best not to make much noise, even though you are forced to bite down on your cheek to stifle the annoying sobs that won’t stop clawing at your throat. 

Robin was kind enough to drive you home before returning to the party, because she was still sober, and you thanked her all the way. She did not ask why you were in the state you were and you did not share. Robin was very wise in realising you needed space and not probing and she knew that you would share what had happened once you were ready for it. 

After going to the bathroom you curl up in your bed and finally sob relentlessly, letting your pain drip away with every tear you shed. 

It’s official and there’s no denying it now. You are desperately in love with Ace.

And you’re sobbing the hardest because of that realisation. Because you know he’s not boyfriend material and he won’t settle for one girl. Especially you. Because you’re nothing special. He can have any girl he desires, so why would he want you?

You should have known better than to give in to your feelings. You should’ve never kissed him. You would’ve still been hurt, sure, but you would not know the softness of his lips, the warmth of his touch, the feel of his tongue and the intensity of his gaze. 

You’re broken.

But maybe time will fix it?

-*-

Shanks knocks lightly on the door of your bedroom before opening it. You’re awake. You’ve heard the rooster call. But you’re still curled up in the same ball as you were when you tucked yourself in last night.

“Bug?” He calls gently but you do not stir. You pretend to be asleep and Shanks closes the door again. 

Sighing, you grab your phone to check the time. It’s almost ten in the morning. And you have around ten missed calls from Ace and an increasing amount of texts. You don’t open any of them and throw your phone to the floor with a soft thud.

Another fresh wave of tears threatens to spill from your eyes and you let it, covering your head with the sheets and biting down the pillow, trying to stifle the painful gasps. 

If only there were a way to stifle the ache in your chest.

-*-

You keep ignoring calls and texts and by lunchtime Shanks makes another visit. This time he purposely makes some noise so you can’t really pretend to be asleep. Rising, you sit cross-legged on the bed.

“Hey, bug.” He sets a glass of water by your nightstand with two pills, thinking that you are hungover. “Are you well?” He lets his body fall at the foot of your bed, making you jump slightly when the weight shifts. 

You simply nod, not trusting your voice, and take the water but not the pills. 

“You’re not sick? Hungover?” He asks with a mischievous grin and you shake your head. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“No.” You say, but your words resemble a weak whimper and you fall back into the comfort of your bed, throwing the sheets back over your head in a silent plea to be left alone. 

Shanks remains in silence for a few moments before rising. “I’m going to leave you, then. There’s lunch in the fridge, if you’re hungry. I’m leaving for the Jubilee but I will come home before dinner to check on you, okay?”

“Yes.” You croak.

You hear Shanks’ footsteps all the way to the door before he pauses and sighs heavily. “Ace keeps calling. He says you’re not answering any of his calls or texts. Want me to tell him anything?”

Biting your lower lip, you will your voice to come out firm and steady.

“Tell him to go to hell and leave me alone.”

The silence weighs heavily while your shoulders rock with the effort of keeping your sobs and wails quiet. 

“Alright.” Your father answers before leaving and closing the door. 

-*-

You doze off for the rest of the day, only getting up to go to the bathroom or to fill your glass of water. You’re not even hungry. You keep returning to bed but you’ve already made up your mind: you will only allow yourself one day to wallow in misery.

Tomorrow is a new day and you will no longer think about Ace or your shattered heart. 

So you take time to be depressed today. 

You manage to answer some texts from Nami and Robin, just assuring them you are fine and that you’re just feeling a bit ill, not really wanting to get into details when everything is still so raw. But you still leave all of Ace’s growing pile of texts unread.

You don’t even care what he has to say.

You must have closed your eyes again at some moment or other, because when you wake up, the sunlight coming through the window is casting a lot of shadows already, so it must be nearing dinner time.

You hear muffled voices but can’t tell who it is or what is being said. It must be your dad and Beckman, probably. 

After a few moments, you hear footsteps and, sure enough, Shanks knocks and enters the room, just to find you still curled up in bed. 

“You’re still in bed?” He seems upset, the wrinkles in his eyes prominent and his lips turned down into a scowl. 

“I’m fine, dad.” You sigh.

He grunts and rolls his eyes, opening and closing his mouth, not really saying anything, but clearly meaning to say something. Until he closes his eyes tightly and exhales a breath. 

“Ace is downstairs. Should I let him up?”

You comb your fingers through your hair in a desperate gesture as you inhale deeply, trying to regain composure.

“No. I don’t want to see him.”

Shanks breathes out heavily and nods. “Okay, bug. I’ll tell him. You need to eat something, though. I will be waiting for you so we can have dinner.”

Then he closes the door and leaves. You hear the heavy thumps of his boots against the steps and quickly get up, opening the door just a smidge so you can listen in on their conversation. 

“Can I go up?” Ace sounds hopeful.

“No.”

“Fuck!”

“Language, young man.” Shanks seems pissed.

“Sorry.” A pause. “Sir.”

“What did you do to her?” Your father’s voice is raspy and tense. 

You hear Ace groan. “Nothing! It was all a misunderstanding!”

Shanks scoffs. “She told me you were only friends and I didn’t want to meddle. I knew she would get hurt. I should’ve intervened!” He’s talking more to himself than to Ace, at this point. 

“I never meant to hurt her, Shanks!”

“It’s sir!”

“We had… we had a moment. And then a random girl appeared and-...”

“And you traded my daughter for some other girl?” Shanks’ voice echoes in the corridor and you gulp.

“I would never, Sh-... sir!” There’s a pregnant silence and you can bet they are having a staring contest. “She misunderstood the situation. It was a mistake. That’s all.”

You scoff and close the door again, not wanting to listen to anything else he wants to add. Obviously you misunderstood. You were the mistake he made. And you thought you were more than you actually are. You thought that kiss had actually meant something, that you could be special. 

That was the only misunderstanding that happened. 

Because Ace will always have his girls, his fans… and you’ll be left on the sidelines. Because why would he settle for someone as boring and bland as you? When he could have the whole world?

-*-

You sit at the dinner table, fork in hand but barely eating. Your cheek rests against your fist and you sigh from time to time. Shanks has an unreadable expression on his face, though he seems to be struggling with emotions. 

You set down your fork and stare at him. “Can I, please, be excused?”

“No. You haven’t eaten all day.” He pouts.

“Dad, I’m no longer a child.”

“You’re still living under my roof, aren’t you?” You raise your eyebrow and he sighs, setting down the fork on his untouched plate of food. “Sorry, that was out of line. Please, bug, eat something. I’m worried.”

Forcing a smile, you nod and place another piece of meat in your mouth. Chewing it is akin to chewing rubber. You’re drained.

“I’m fine, dad.” You pick up the conversation after swallowing the meat with water. “There’s no need to worry. I just needed to process some things. I’ll be up and about tomorrow, okay?” You try to sound confident.

Shanks nods and repeats the process that you’ve been through with the meat himself. He must not be very hungry either.

“You know, for what it’s worth, Ace seemed really apologetic. He claimed that whatever made you mad, was a misunderstanding on your part and he never meant it to happen.”

You scoff and your mouth hangs open. “Are you seriously taking his side?” He shrugs and opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. “Unbelievable! You don’t even know what happened! Goddamned Ace and his smooth ways! I can’t believe he fooled you too!” You slam the fork on the table.

“Calm down, bug, I’m not taking anyone’s side on anything. You’re both adults. I’m just saying that he made some valid points when speaking to me earlier. Perhaps you should just listen to him.”

What is he talking about? You heard their conversation and Shanks was pissed! No, wait. You did not hear the entirety of the conversation. And now you’re regretting it because what could Ace have said to your dad to actually get him on his side?

Gritting your teeth, you collect your plate and water glass. “Can I, please, be excused?” You try again, forcing the words out of your mouth through pursed lips.

Shanks nods with a heavy sigh and you go. Then, after cleaning your plate and without even bothering to change clothes - tank top and pyjama shorts - you grab your car keys, put on sneakers and open the door. “I’ll be back in a while.”

You barely give time for Shanks to mutter a ‘be safe’ before you bang the door, purposely irritating him with the process. 

Getting in the car and turning the ignition makes your mind blank. Where were you aiming to go? There’s the Jubilee in town, the beach will probably have another party going on, and the lake as well… everybody must be out during Jubilee week. 

Sighing, you start driving. Driving aimlessly it is. Just to try to clear your mind, anyway.

You blast the music because music always helps you relax, and open the windows to let the wind flow freely inside of the car. It’s all bliss for almost an hour. Until your car decides you’re being too harsh on it and starts fuming.

You pull over, turn on the blinkers and get out, opening the hood and letting out an intense cloud of smoke that leaves you coughing. You’ve been here before… Your dad said Kid didn’t need to replace the engine, but perhaps he should have because you’re pretty sure this has no salvation at the moment. 

Resigning to your fate, you call your dad. “Bug? Are you all right?”

“Dad, sorry for earlier…” You start, having cooled off by now. “We’ll talk some more about it later, but I need your help. I’m stranded again! The engine is fuming and I guess this time it really is dead. Kid’s shop is closed so I need a ride.”

Shanks stays silent for a moment and you hear the loud noises of the Jubilee in the background. He’s still working. You’re hoping Beckman can cover for him as he comes and saves your ass.

“Okay, hang tight, tell me where you are.” You tell him and he grunts. “You’re in the middle of nowhere! Where were you going? Were you leaving?” He lets out a deep, resigned sigh. “Stay inside the locked car, please. I’ll be there soon.”

You hang up and do as he says, leaving the hood open, you crawl back inside the car, turning off the lights and leaving only the blinkers on, so ongoing cars can see you. Picking up your phone, you settle for a long wait. Shanks doesn’t drive too fast. 

You shiver unconsciously because the air is a bit cold and you’re only wearing shorts.

There’s no music because you turned off the car but the nightly sounds are quite relaxing. There is a big, full moon in the sky and, though your heart still clenches and aches, you know you’ll be fine. 

-*-

The wait doesn’t seem as long as you thought it would, so you are still inside your car when you see a pair of taillights parking behind you. It doesn’t look like Shanks’ pickup and you start to breathe a little faster and make sure the doors are locked. 

Until you can get a good look. A guttural groan leaves your throat as you close your eyes.

It’s Ace.

You hide your face in your hands to stifle a frustrated scream. You will be so angry at your father when you see him again.

You still haven’t moved when you hear him knocking at your window. Shaking your head but keeping it hidden behind your hands, you groan again. “Go away, Ace! I’ll wait till morning for the tow truck.”

“You’d seriously rather spend the night in the car than come home with me?”

“Yes!” You hiss, still hiding from him.

“Fine. You can stay there, but I’m not leaving either.”

He presses his butt against your door, leaning in, and crosses his arms over his chest. Removing your face from the safe cocoon of your hands, you cross your arms over your own chest. And realise you don’t even have a bra on, since you’re basically wearing pyjamas. 

And you’re uncomfortable.

And cold.

And pissed off.

“Fine! You’re unbelievable!” You groan, grab your stuff and open the door with all the might you possess, trying to unbalance him, but he moves out of your way with ease. 

As soon as you set foot outside you gasp. The temperature dropped a lot while you were inside the car and you shiver while hugging yourself. “Let’s just go.” You mutter, closing the hood of your car with force. You haven’t looked at his face once.

And you don’t intend to.

You can almost feel his eyes on you and, when once that left you flattered, today it only leaves you flustered. Since he seems to take forever to move, you stomp towards his jeep and try to open the door but it’s closed. 

He approaches, car key in hand and slow steps. “I locked it. I was ready to spend the night outside your car.”

“How chivalrous.” 

Before opening the doors, he reaches through the open window of the back and fishes out the jacket of his fireman uniform, setting it over your shoulders. It falls just under your butt, longer than your shorts, and it’s warm so you slip into the sleeves, cradling yourself in its warmth.

Fuck.

It smells like him. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply. Then you shake your head and try to clear the knot in your throat. “Can you open the door now, please?”

He presses the button and you open the door. Just as you’re about to climb up, he settles one hand on your hip to help you and you hiss. “Don’t touch me.”

Ace retreats and you look at him over your shoulder. He seems hurt. Actually you have yet to hear or see a hint of a smile or a jest coming from him since he arrived. Which is very weird.

“You’re right, sorry.”

You climb on your own as he goes around the jeep and enters. Putting on your seatbelt and staring out the window, you prepare yourself for a long, uncomfortable drive.

Yet, he doesn’t start the car. 

You turn your eyes away from the window to see what he’s doing and catch him texting. Rolling your eyes and scoffing you mutter ‘figures’ under your breath, automatically assuming he’s texting a girl saying he’s busy.

“I’m telling your father that I’ve got you and you're safe. In case you’re making up stuff in your mind already.”

You can’t even argue with him. You were making stuff up already. Suddenly, a thought crosses through your mind: how much of your musings are merely assumptions and how much are actually true? Could he have been telling Shanks the truth about everything being a misunderstanding?

And what would that actually mean?

He sets his phone down and starts the car. The music is very low on the radio and that makes you very attuned to all of his noises. For a few times it looks as if he’s about to speak, yet he doesn’t.

His sighs and little tsks fill the air. Sometimes even a groan or a grumble. But not a single word.

You’re not in the mood to speak, anyway, so you’re glad. 

And you were right. The ride is pretty awkward. Until he makes a wrong turn and your head whips towards him.

“Where are you going?”

His eyes are still on the road but his lips curve a little bit up. “I want to show you something.” You are about to protest, but you don’t. Maybe you should really clear the air. Just to let him know that nothing will ever happen. You will stop being mad soon enough and you can go back to being friends, or neighbours, or acquaintances, and that’s it.

His jeep makes its way up the mountain very easily and you soon understand where he’s taking you: to the viewpoint. A prime location to take lovers to. Secluded and ideal for lovemaking under the stars.

You scoff. “What exactly do you want to show me here, Ace?” Your words are full of scorn and disbelief.

“You’ll see.” He mutters. 

But you’re at a loss once he passes the exit for the viewpoint and continues up. After a while, he stops the car in front of a battered-up pebbled path that has a chain closing it off, and he stops the car, leaving the engine on.

“Hang on.”

Getting out of the car, he unlocks the chain with a key he fishes from his pocket and then climbs back into the jeep, making his way across the path.

It’s really bumpy and you grab onto the handle of the door with strength. Your other hand almost instinctively goes for Ace’s hand but you stop just in time and settle it under your leg.

“Almost there.”

After a few moments, he parks the jeep and gets out, telling you to do the same. As soon as you look around, your lips open up to let out a small gasp as you take in the breathtaking view. You remember the viewpoint, but it only overlooks one side of the town, and a little bit of the beach. This place has a panoramic view of everything, including the vastness of the sky and all of its shining, twinkling stars.

You twirl on your feet, eyes up in the sky and arms slightly open. A small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.After your little exhilarating twirl, your eyes land on Ace. He’s staring intently at you, a full smile finally on his lips. 

“This is beautiful.” You exhale in a whispery breath.

“Yes. It is.” But his eyes remain locked on you. You hold his stare for a moment before turning back to the view. There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. He must bring all of his girls here. To this special place.

To have them. To fuck them.

You grit your teeth as he removes the duvet and pillow from the back of his jeep and you start to hum negatively. This is where you draw the line.

“No, no, Ace. I’m sorry but I’m not one of your bimbos. You can’t just wow me with an astonishing view, have your way with me and then leave me to rinse and repeat with another random girl. I refuse.”

Tears threaten to spill from your oversensitive eyes again. God, you’re such a crybaby. 

He still sets the duvet down and props the pillow up against a rock. “I don’t bring girls here.” The finality of his words and the gravitas with which he delivers them make you believe him without questioning. “Come here.”

You approach him with slow steps. 

“See.” He points at the rock where the letters ASL are carved. “Luffy, Sabo and I used to come here when we were teens. This place is closed off to people because, since it’s private property, it doesn’t have any fences like the viewpoint below, but Grandfather had a key from when he helped the rangers patrolling in summer, and we made a copy.”

He sits and motions for you to sit near him. You are still eyeing him suspiciously. “This place is special. You’re special. I wanted to show it to you.”

And once again, you believe his words. Because he is being serious Ace and not silly, goofy Ace.

You move forward and sit down, far from him, almost at the feet of the duvet.”Fair enough.” He replies and chuckles softly.

You missed his chuckle. 

Only one day without him and you missed his goddamned chuckle. 

“I want to apologise for yesterday. You have every right to be upset, but I didn’t ‘arrange’ any encounter with that girl. I was going to leave the party alone.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Or with you, if you would have me. She just assumed something. That was all, I swear.”

Taking a deep breath, you concentrate on the faraway lights from the Jubilee. If you listen closely, and when the wind turns your way, you can almost hear the music and the gleeful screams of the crowd. Nodding slowly, you show Ace your acknowledgment even though you don't say anything. So he continues.

“You said before that you wanted honesty from me. Ask whatever you want to ask. I will answer honestly. You have my word.”

You turn to stare at him and you can only perceive truthfulness and seriousness in his warm gaze. So you nod again.

“Okay.” But you’re not quite sure where to begin. Though your mouth opens up immediately and the phrase rolls from your lips without having been properly processed by your tired brain. “Am I just another girl to you?” Your lower lip trembles and you will it to stop by clamping your teeth over it. 

“Easy question, Firestarter. You were never just another girl to me. Make it harder, will you?”

His easy grin makes an appearance on his face and you sigh in relief, letting out a small, hidden chortle at his answer. Which is short-lived as you think of another question that’s bothering you.

“Did… did you end up getting together with that girl yesterday…?” Your voice is a mere whisper and you are actually dreading his answer. You thought you both had shared something special at that beach, if he says he got with the girl…

Well… That will end everything before it even has a chance to start.

“Obviously not. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and about how I might have messed up the greatest thing to happen to me in a long time… I told you just now, I was either going to leave the party with you, or alone.”

You unconsciously cuddle against his jacket and take a whiff of his scent. He keeps saying all the right things. But he promised you the truth. So it must be true.

Your eyes are still trained on your feet and you remove your sneakers so you can put them over the duvet and hug your knees against your chest. 

“Why can’t you have a serious girlfriend? And do you want one?”

He leans back, arms crossed behind his head and stares up at the endless sky. “I told you back at the fire station that I never felt good enough for a number of things, that I always fell short on any kind of achievements.” He scoffs. “I just never felt like I could be enough for a girl. Like I’m not worthy of that kind of pure, devoted love that comes with a relationship.” His eyes lock with yours and soften. “Obviously I can also tell you that I had never met the right girl before you, but that is such an obvious line that I doubt you’d believe me. Despite it being true.” He shrugs and you blush deeply, your heart skipping a beat and making you gasp. 

Your eyes dart downwards and you bite your lower lip again but this time it’s not to stifle a sob or a trembling, but a smile. You focus on the bracelet on your ankle and there’s a warmth in your chest that fills your heart.

“I do want one.” You raise your eyebrow at him. “The second part of the question, if I want a serious girlfriend.” He smirks. “If you’re willing to, of course.”

Your blush deepens and you gulp. “I’m not done yet.”

Raising his hands in the air, he chuckles again. He’s much more at ease now, and you realise that it’s because you are also more at ease. 

Like mirrors reflecting each other.

“Since we’ve reconnected, I’ve seen you with a bunch of girls. Deuce called me ‘this one’ at the fire station, meaning you’ve been using all your usual moves on me.”

You’re about to ask your question when he interrupts. “Not true.”

“What?”

“I’ve not been using any moves on you. You’re not that predictable. I’ve been shirtless around you more times than I can count and you didn’t even bat an eye! And that’s usually all it takes.”

That’s not true, either! You batted an eye! In fact, you ran the battery of your vibrator dry because of said chest and abs, but you’re not going to admit it. 

“You’re blushing!” He replies. “Ohhh, so that affected you?” You blush deeper and try to look away. “Firestarter! Did you use up your batteries for me?”

Just thinking about it has you flustered and gasping for air. What you wouldn’t have given for the real thing these past days. 

“You’re so damn cute.” He mutters, more to himself than for you to hear. 

“That's not the point. I'm not the one answering the questions!” Regaining your composure never seemed like such a daunting task, but you inhale deeply until he stops chuckling. 

You don't even know where you were going with that question anymore. So you have to take a moment to gather your thoughts. 

“How can you be sure that I’m different? That, once you’ve had me, you won’t lose interest and want to move on to another more challenging chase? A prettier, more interesting girl?”

You want to look at him for this answer, so you do. And he gazes back at you, a strange intensity in his dark eyes.

“All I know is that I’ve never felt this way before. You fill every thought of my day and you’re there even in my dreams. I want to be with you. Not just have you, like you say.” Your breath accelerates as his eyes bore into yours. “And I don’t even know what you mean with prettier and more interesting girl. You’re all I could ever ask for.” He’s speaking the truth. You can tell. 

But your heart is still so bruised and tattered from the past. Will you be able to trust?

“Any more questions?” He says softly.

You downcast your gaze and get on your knees to shift closer to him. He straightens up, sensing your seriousness and you stop just a few inches from his face, sitting on your legs, never dropping his gaze. 

Your heart's thumping against your chest in an unholy rhythm and you're shaking from more than the cold. 

“Are you going to break my heart, Ace?” Your voice is nothing but a whisper and carries with it a sliver of hope. 

Ace searches deep into your eyes, his freckles move with his sincere smile and he uses the tip of his fingers to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“I don't intend to, Firestarter.”

He's leaning in, or you're leaning in, you're not quite sure. Does it really matter, anyway? 

“Ace… Please, please, don't make me regret this decision.” His forehead touches yours and the hand hovering near your face cups your cheek. He's not forcing anything. He's waiting for you. 

“I won't. Give me a chance to prove it.” He murmurs your name. 

“I have one more question.” You murmur back, your lips ghosting his, both your breaths mingling with unspoken promises. “Can you kiss me?”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that.”

[hwaslayer]

love you in slow motion (psh) | six. (final)

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 7.5k

—content/chapter warning: cussing/mature language, a slight hint of jealousy, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), making out, dry humping, breast/nipple play, couple of flashback scenes lol, nothing but good times with the friends and fam!! hopefully a sweet way to wrap this up 🥰

—a/n: we've reached the end! tysm for the love and support on this one <33 i'll be posting an update on upcoming fics soon so stay tuned!! you're gonna wanna see what's coming next 🤪

♡ 1.5 YEARS LATER ;

"Seonghwa—fuck—" Your back slightly arches as your hand grips Seonghwa's luscious black hair tighter, pleasure surging through you as he continues to lap at your clit. "Y-you're gonna be late—"

"What's a couple minutes?" He mutters in between, hands gripping your thighs and keeping you wide open for him. You work your hips against his mouth, edging yourself closer and closer to the edge until you finally feel your orgasm wash over you. Seonghwa keeps himself in between your thighs as you writhe and tremble under his grip, letting out soft moans and curses that you try to muffle by throwing a hand over your mouth. "Quiet, baby. That's it." You hear Seonghwa say from beneath the sheets.

"Oh my god." You whine a bit, chest rising up and down as you try to collect yourself. Seonghwa pokes his head out from under the covers with a shit-eating smirk, planting kisses all over your arms, neck, jaw.

Cheeks.

Lips.

"You're gonna be so fucking late."

"And?" He kisses you again.

"Director Shin is gonna kill you." You giggle into the kiss and he rolls his eyes.

"I'll take the heat for it, was all worth it anyway." He hops out of the bed to quickly wash up and change before grabbing his duffle bag.

"I can't believe you literally did that as you were about to walk out."

"Couldn't leave my baby high and dry." Seonghwa smiles. "Anyway, see you later at the game?" You nod.

"Punk." You tease and he laughs before waving you off.

"I love you too, brat." You giggle as you retreat under the sheets, snuggling in for a bit more sleep. You give yourself another two hours or so before you fully wake up and toss the sheets off, stepping into the bathroom for a piping hot shower. You rummage through some of your clothes in your half of the shared walk-in closet, throwing on a simple outfit for today's game: denim mom shorts, a white tee, black and white sambas. You toss on a simple black belt you were able to find before walking through a cloud of perfume and heading out of the door.

When you head downstairs, Yaya is already out of her room and organizing in the kitchen. She has breakfast made, which you're sure she had packed some away for Seonghwa to take on the go. Moving into your newly built 4-bedroom house, Seonghwa made sure to prioritize Yaya's needs first and foremost. The house was beautiful and modern, sleek accents to add a simple but powerful touch to all corners of the home. He suggested for Yaya to take the first floor bedroom near the kitchen, in which she'd also have her own restroom. Her knees hadn't been kind to her lately, and Seonghwa didn't want her climbing up and down too many stairs— nor did he want a house where he'd stick her in a downstairs in-law. As much as Yaya had taken care of the both of you and been there for you throughout your lives, he wanted to keep her close and he wanted to do the same. He never wanted her to feel isolated or like she was a chore, because she was more than that to the both of you. 

A loving guardian, family.

Seonghwa helped Yaya get settled first, helping her arrange and fix things around so she could get comfortable. The house was pretty much close to being done, besides the fact that you still had to go through a few more of your things and toss out unwanted items, plus buy a bit more decor for the guest bedroom. The smallest room was turned into an office and library space, with Seonghwa's prized possessions sitting in glass display cabinets [aka his completed lego sets and figurines]; showcasing it to whoever walked into the room. You had been picking up reading again, so Seonghwa made sure to give you a little couch in there for you to get comfortable on during the days you needed your alone time or just wanted to read in peace. He also managed to stash some smaller lego sets and other toys off to the side for when Charli comes and sleeps over. Anything to take care of his favorite ladies.

Everything just felt perfect, for lack of a better word. You didn't know how else to explain it. It was just perfect.

The idea of moving in together didn't take long to come after you and Seonghwa had become official— it came more so out of the frustration and annoyance of having to leave each other after certain nights. Packing up more things just to stay at each other's homes again. Repeating the cycle, getting more attached and hating the distance. When you had finally brought it up to Hwa, the decision came easy. It was the easiest thing you both have decided on, though the journey to finding the right house wasn't as easy. Yaya had come along to all the countless tours of homes, leaving the decision up to you two. But, Seonghwa was never satisfied. For awhile, none of them seemed to fit what he was looking for. You could have been settled on a few homes earlier on, but he didn't think they were a fit for you, for Yaya. He wanted something that felt natural, that felt like home, a safe-space, full of light; he was almost losing hope when he realized the houses you were seeing just didn't click with him. The realtor finally took you a ways out of town to an area where newly-built homes were rising and you could see the sparkle in Seonghwa's eyes when he walked through the model homes. He had asked his questions, made a few suggestions, and before you knew it, you were head deep into the home buying process.

It was long. Grueling. Seonghwa would have to tack on another 15 minutes to his drive to work, with you also having quite the journey to the restaurant. But in the end, it was all worth it. It will always be worth it. Now, you have Seonghwa and Yaya in one place. Work isn't too far. Friends aren't too far. Soyeon, Junseo and Charli come over often.

It was perfect.

"Make sure you eat something before you go." Yaya hands you a plate. "Soyeon and Charli are coming, right?" You nod.

"Mhm. Should be on their way soon." You gather some food onto your plate before settling down on the bar stool by the island. "Did Hwa eat?"

"Packed him some food and handed it to him as he was heading out. I told him he has to eat! Long day ahead with it being the first game of the season, right?"

"Mmyeah. He's probably not gonna come home until later tonight."

"Are you guys still going to do the party for your birthday tomorrow?"

"Yes." You laugh. "Sorry Yaya, it's gonna be a full house tomorrow night. Charli, Soyeon and Junseo are staying in the guest room, and I think the boys wanna stay over."

"The more, the merrier." She smiles with a wink. At this point, you hear Soyeon and Charli from the driveway, Charli barreling in as she runs straight to you and Yaya.

"God, I love this house." Soyeon looks around, still getting used to the new home. "Mm, smells good!"

"You guys should eat before going."

"We ate at home, Yaya. Thank you, though!" You finish up your food and wash your plate, drying your hands on the hand towel hanging near the edge of the sink. 

"Let me just grab my stuff upstairs." You run upstairs to grab your mini puff tote and sling the strap over your shoulders, snatching your keys off of the drawer before shutting the door close and heading out to your car. You help Soyeon strap in Charli's car seat before settling her in, slipping into the driver's seat once everything is all good to go. You and Soyeon talk about tomorrow's party, and how Junseo and Yoongi are slowly starting to prepare for all the catering. The restaurant is set to close for the weekend due to 'special events,' also giving Junseo, Jini and Yoongi a break from holding down the fort and all the prep they're doing for the party. Soyeon tells you she has a friend who offered to graciously make a cute backdrop with balloons, along with a few decorations to place around the backyard. She asks you what you bought Seonghwa for his birthday present, and you tell her that you got your hands on the watch he had been eyeing for months, and a few shirts you knew he'd like. As bestfriends, you and Seonghwa weren't big on giving each other presents outside of a tradition you started in high school. If there was something either of you really wanted around your birthdays, you would get those gifts to make each other happy; other than that though, it wasn't a big deal.

But now, as your boyfriend, you always wanted to spoil Seonghwa. In so many ways. Even if it didn't sound like much, you knew he'd be happy cause they were things he liked. All you wanted was for Seonghwa to be happy, especially with the way he constantly takes good care of you and your family.

Pulling into the lot of the school, you easily slip into a parking spot near the stadium's entrance. There are waves of people walking inside, all sporting the universities' merch in one way or another. The three of you breeze through security and flash your tickets, heading towards a section behind Seonghwa and Wooyoung's team— finding seats that aren't too high up, but not too close either. Once you and Charli are settled, Soyeon runs down to grab a few snacks for you guys to munch on during the game; hauling up nachos and a pretzel with a large drink to share. For a minute, you and Soyeon are back to discussing the party when she asks about your outfit for tomorrow's festivities and if Seonghwa has gotten the rest of the stuff together.

"Yeah, he has. He took care of literally everything else. I didn't have to move a damn inch." Soyeon laughs.

"Hwa's the best." She pauses before suddenly asking: "Why don't you two just get married already? Elope or whatever." The question catches you off guard because you're not sure where this is coming from. Although, you had been thinking about marriage and everything around it lately. It's not that you weren't ready— you truthfully do want to be with Seonghwa for the rest of your life, and you don't see it any other way. You just weren't sure if he was ready or if he was even thinking of it that way. You felt like it might be too early for him, which could be true. You were willing to wait for the right time, whenever that was. All you know is that Seonghwa is your person, and there's nothing else that comes close.

"Wow. That's surprising coming from you."

"I mean, is it?" You give her a look. "I'm kidding." She makes an animated face and pokes her tongue out at you. "Not really, though. I just like seeing you two happy together. You guys just complete each other. Ever since you were young."

"It'll happen when it'll happen." You say softly. "I'd definitely want a big, grand wedding. I wanna go through the motions of everything." Soyeon nibbles on her bottom lip to prevent a smile from forming.

"With him?" You softly smile.

"Yeah. If that's where it leads us."

"If." She laughs. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that man has been set on you for a long time or else he wouldn't have moved into a house with you and Yaya." 

"Gonna let it play out how it should, you know? Let it happen naturally and when the time is right." You look out onto the field as the teams start huddling up and getting ready for the first game of the season. You catch Seonghwa talking to Makayla on the sidelines, and although you aren't exactly insecure about the whole thing, it does make you a tiny bit jealous that he's giving her attention the way he is. He's smiling from ear to ear, laughing at the conversation and being super friendly— you wouldn't really put it past him, it's how Seonghwa is. It's how he's always been. But having him in your life as your boyfriend, as your man, as yours, you're experiencing new feelings you haven't exactly worked through before.

"Conversation must be funny as hell." You meant to say this to yourself, but you obviously fail and Soyeon catches on while Charli is bouncing up and down on her legs.

"Aw, you're jealous. How cute." She pinches your cheeks and you gently smack her hand away [respectfully]. "Are you still weirded out by it?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so? I don't care if they're friends, I just—"

"Want all the attention on you." You pout a bit. "Yeah, you two are definitely getting married. I better be the first to know when you're pregnant."

"Can we not!" At this point, the game is finally starting, with Charli calling out to her Uncle Hwa as if he's playing in the game. You watch as he says his goodbyes to Makayla, stepping off to the side with Wooyung as they watch the game from the sidelines and keep an eye out for any injuries that occur on the field. It's not the first time you've seen your man in action, but every time always feels like the first because you find yourself completely in awe with Seonghwa. Now, you can add the bonus of feeling head over heels and completely smitten over your man. You knew how hard Hwa studied and how hard he worked to get to where he was at today. It continues to pay off for him, and you love seeing him happy doing what he does. It's clear him and Wooyoung are incredibly valued on the team, and nothing makes you happier to see that.

They deserved it.

Throughout the game, Seonghwa and Wooyoung are having to rush to the sides of a few players when they get hurt. Of the few, two players had to be escorted to the locker rooms and sat out for the rest of the game. That's when Seonghwa disappears for awhile to tend to the players resting in the locker room. You assume he's making sure they're okay every step of the way, already getting started on rehabilitating to get them back into tip-top shape.

While Seonghwa is gone, you continue to watch the game with Soyeon and Charli. You look around the crowd, your eyes falling onto Makayla just as she does the same and meets your eye contact. She doesn't do much besides give you a tiny, pursed smile, and although Seonghwa says she's friendly— her look makes you feel like she has some lingering feelings for Seonghwa, or feels a bit defeated after everything that's happened.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when the crowd goes wild, with Charli yelling along. You realize that the game is over, and that the university won their first game against one of their biggest rivals— giving them a good boost for the start of the season. You, Soyeon and Charli head down near the rails, high-fiving a few of the team as they make their way back into the locker room. 

"Baby girls!" Wooyoung yells as crouches and holds his arms open for Charli. She runs into them, allowing Woo to swing her around and make her loudly giggle.

"Goodjob out there, Woo." Soyeon pats his head.

"I looked good out there, huh?" Soyeon rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Where's Hwa?"

"Locker room. I'm sure he'll come out in a bit—" 

"Boo!" Seonghwa says, startling Charli in Wooyoung's arms. She screams, but instantly giggles when she realizes it's her favorite Uncle Hwa. "Talking about me, I see."

"Trust me, we weren't. You're not that big of a deal." Seonghwa rolls his eyes before making his way over to you.

"Hi." He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close.

"Hey."

"You should head home soon with Soyeon and Chacha."

"I know, we will. What time are you gonna get back?"

"Probably not for another couple of hours or so. Gotta debrief and clean up, put in some recovery time with the team."

"Hm." You hum with a small frown. 

"I'll be home soon enough, baby. Let me know if you or Yaya need me to pick anything up before I go home, okay?"

"I will." You step back and cross your arms before titling your head back up at him. "Saw you talking to Makayla earlier."

"Oh?" He smirks. "Are you jealous?"

"No." You glare at him, causing him to gently cup you by the jaw and bite his bottom lip.

"You're hella cute." 

"Fuck off, Seonghwa. You're not funny." You pout, and he laughs.

"I'm not? What can I do to make it up to you then, hm?" He smirks, making you gently shove him away by the chest.

"Anyway. You two ready to go?" Soyeon nods.

"Gotta make it in time to have dinner with daddy. Huh, Chacha?" She squeezes her tiny hand. "Go say bye to your uncles. Tell them you'll see them tomorrow." And so Charli does just that, hugging her uncles goodbye and telling them she'll see them tomorrow at the party. 

When you finally split ways from Seonghwa and Wooyoung, the three of you rush back into the car and safely hurry on home so Soyeon and Charli can make it back in time for dinner with Junseo. Yaya is already cooking some dinner by the time you settle back into your pajamas, letting her know that Seonghwa probably isn't gonna be home for awhile. You settle on the couch with her once she finishes cooking, eating up a good, heart bowl of curry while watching one of her current drama obsessions. 

It's not until close to 8pm when you hear the garage open. Seonghwa takes a minute to park, get himself together and head into the house. As soon as he does, you instantly run into his arms and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and kissing him on the lips.

"You took so long." You pout.

"Sorry, baby." He brushes your hair away from your face. "I had a lot to do. But, I'm here now, yeah? Got your ice cream that you asked for." He holds up the grocery bag. You squeal and thank him before letting go to indulge in the rocky road ice cream you had been craving, while he greets Yaya and helps her in the kitchen. Seonghwa was done with work about an hour and a half ago, but he needed to stop by the store to get a few last minute things for tonight's and tomorrow's festivities.

He takes a shower and gets comfortable before plopping on the couch next to you and gobbling up the bowl Yaya prepared for him. You cuddle up to him while Yaya sits on the other end of the couch, retreating into her room closer to 10:30pm. You and Seonghwa clean up your remaining bowls before getting ready for the evening and settling in bed.

"Fuck." Seonghwa lets out a hefty sigh, curling up to him again while he flips through the movie selections. "So tired."

"I bet."

"Trying to stay up though, you know why?" He smiles and taps the tip of your nose.  "It's someone's birthday soon."

"Someone, hm?" You giggle and he kisses your forehead

"Someone special, yeah."

"It's your birthday soon, too."

"Mm, but it's yours first, love. Always you first." He says lovingly, holding you close to him as you rest on his chest and wrap your arm around his waist. He puts on an apocalyptic, zombie movie— you can't recall the name because you feel the exhaustion hit you out of nowhere. The movie begins and Seonghwa adjusts his position while you continue to cling onto him. It doesn't take long before you feel your eyes getting heavy even though you tried your hardest to stay up and keep up with your usual tradition with Seonghwa.

But, you were tired.

It feels like you were asleep for awhile, maybe a good couple of hours, when in reality it was only an hour. You feel Seonghwa gently dip out of bed, but you're too tired to think much of it. You continue to sleep until you feel Seonghwa waking you up, softly speaking to you as your eyes flutter open again.

"Baby." He gently shakes you awake as he sits on the edge of the bed. He smiles brightly when you sit up and rub at your eyes, running your hand through your hair as you finally feel more alert. "Happy birthday, beautiful." You look at the plate in hand and realize it's a huge Cinnabon with a Kuromi figurine near the candle. Sitting on the nightstand is a bouquet of those pretty lavender-colored roses you were eyeing at the farmer's market the other weekend. You giggle before turning towards the nightstand on your bed, grabbing the small container with a cupcake in the drawer.

"Happy soon-to-be-birthday, Hwa." You say cutely as you pop open the lid and show him the cupcake with Isabelle's face [from Animal Crossing] in fondant sitting on top. His eyes crinkle in adoration while watching you take the candle on top, and use the already-lit candle on your cinnabon to light the wick. You both laugh together while taking in your cakes for this year's birthdays, your traditions never getting old.

♡ FLASHBACK | HIGH SCHOOL

"Okay. One— two—"

"Three!" You both exclaim as you turn around and show each other your cakes for the year. You laugh when you see a stack of pancakes with a single candle on top, while Seonghwa follows suit seeing your cupcake with a lego wall built around it. 

"No way you actually built a lego fence around the cupcake."

"Bruh. Of course. I had to. Look at your fucking pile of legos lately!" You point to the corner of his room.

"Aw, you actually took the time to build it, though."

"Actually, I went to the lego store, picked these specific legos out, bought it then built it." Seonghwa pinches your cheeks.

"You're the best."

"I try." You laugh. "The pancakes?!"

"Not just any pancakes! I went through hell and back to find a fucking box of mochi pancakes for you. I know you've been dying to have them. I had to drive to the opposite end of town just to find these!" Seonghwa laughs. "I hope you feel special because that drive gave me anxiety." You smile, knowing Seonghwa had just gotten his license last week. 

"Thank you, pichu. I love it." You edge your cupcake towards him. "Do you like yours?"

"Of course I do. It's really thoughtful. Thank you, Y/N."  He smiles softly. "Should we make a wish?"

"Yeah." You both shut your eyes and make your wishes, both not knowing what the other wished for in fear of it not coming true. When you pop your eyes back open, Seonghwa is patiently waiting with a tiny, toothless smile. The both of you blow your candles out at the same time before sitting down on the floor and tasting each other's 'cakes' despite it being a bit past midnight.

♡ END

"No way." Seonghwa continues to laugh.

"You and your Animal Crossing obsession lately." You tap his nose.

"You and your Cinnabon cravings lately." You giggle.

"That shit is good. I missed it. I can't believe I haven't had it in so long." You cup his cheek and caress the surface with your thumb. "Thank you, Hwa."

"No, thank you." He stares a bit before licking his lips. "Let's make a wish?" You nod. The both of you shut your eyes, Seonghwa being the first to pop his eyes open again. He looks at you with so much love, so much adoration, so much appreciation; he truly doesn't know what his life would be like without you. When you finally open your eyes, you both blow out your candles, the smoke filling the dark room as you two sit and enjoy each other's presence.

"I love you." You look at him with a certain look in your eye that gives Seonghwa a hard time keeping himself composed. He gently sets the plate and the cupcake down on the other side of the night stand, roses now hanging over the edge before he cups your cheeks and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

"I love you, too." He whispers, thumb caressing at the surface of your right cheek. "Happy birthday again, sweet girl. Are you happy?"

"I am. Are you?"

"Couldn't be happier." You smile just as he dips forward to lock you into another kiss, this time more heated, more intense. "So, tell me." He says in between kisses, pulling you onto his lap by the hips when he lays back against the headboard. "Were you jealous earlier?" 

"No." You lie. "Not at all."

"Not at all, hm?" He hums, his large, smooth hands roaming up your [his] shirt, thumbs brushing over your perked buds. You let out a small gasp, head tilting back as you slowly work yourself against the bulge forming in his shorts. "Then what was the attitude about?" He bites onto his bottom lip, one hand now resting on your hip to continue guiding you along his hard dick. 

"Just want you to myself, Hwa." You whine, frustration aimed at the material blocking you from feeling him completely. Raw.

"You have me all to yourself, Y/N." He gently nips at your jaw before drawing his tongue down the column of your throat and kissing you in all the right places. He sucks on the surface, just enough for you to feel it but not leave any marks due to the important festivities happening in a few hours. You feel the pleasure bubbling at the heart of your core; your need, want, for Seonghwa building and constantly intensifying. 

"Need you." You let out against his lips before locking them into a deep kiss. He's quick to help you out of your panties, quick to shove his shorts and his boxers down enough for you to work your ways on him. You instantly line him up at your entrance, wasting no time to slide down his length. The pace is slow at first, until you adjust. Seonghwa tilts his head back in pleasure before lifting your shirt up and taking a nipple into his mouth. He groans against your flesh, hand now gripping harder on your hips to push you to ride him faster. "Oh— Seonghwa—" You softly choke out, feeling him take the other nipple into his mouth; working his tongue in circular motions before pulling back with a pop.

"Fuck—" He hisses and lets out a deep moan. "Just like that, baby." He praises you as you pick up your pace just like he had been hinting. "You always know how to ride this dick so well." He leaves wet kisses along the base of your neck. Right below your earlobe. Your throat. 

You release a moan in between your soft whimpers while you continue to roll your hips against him and tug on his long hair. He praises and praises, your mouth is slacked open against his as you swirl your hips.

My pretty baby.

So perfect.

Made for me.

"Gonna cum." You manage to whisper as you fuck him at a sloppier pace, adding a slight bounce to continue pushing yourself over the edge. Just as your coil is about to snap, you dig your head into the crook of his neck when your orgasm washes over you— legs suddenly feeling weak and like jello as you muffle your moans against Seonghwa. 

"That's it, love— shit. Gonna make me—" He groans at the feeling of your walls squeezing all around him. You feel him hold you up and snap into you before letting himself go and coating your walls white. "God damn." He pants, adding a little whine when he starts to feel sensitive post-nut. You slowly shift in your position to look at him, giving him repeated, tender kisses on the lips while he keeps himself inside of you. "Let's go get cleaned up." He says with a dazed smile, tapping you on your side. The both of you head to the bathroom to clean up before heading back to bed and enjoying your cakes in the middle of the night, just like you used to.

The next day comes, and it's immediately a whirlwind from the moment you wake up. When you turn over to try and cuddle up to Seonghwa, you find that his side of the bed is completely empty and cold. You hear his voice echoing in the kitchen downstairs though, so it puts you at ease— until you hear the rest of the boys rush into the house way earlier than expected. You shuffle into the bathroom to take a shower, throwing on your two piece set consisting of a maxi skirt and a matching spaghetti-strapped crop top. You blow dry your hair and quickly curl it into some loose waves before focusing on adding light makeup.

"Baby." You hear Seonghwa knock on the door before poking his head into the room. "You're decent, right?"

"Uh huh!" You yell before you hear multiple voices enter the room and echo into your master bathroom.

"This fucking bathroom!" Wooyoung steps in and smiles when he sees you fixing your brows. "And it comes with a pretty girl!"

"Hands off the pretty girl, she's mine." Seonghwa calls out. You giggle and hug Wooyoung before setting your makeup down and saying hello to the rest of the boys outside in the room. 

"Sorry, I didn't fix the bed yet." You start fixing the sheets while Hongjoong and San stand at the foot of the bed with Seonghwa. Not much has changed with your friends besides the fact that San has started seeing someone fairly recently. It's a new, blossoming relationship, and you have yet to meet her. He's still shy about it, but you can tell he's genuinely happy and that's all you've ever wanted for him, your friends. Though, Hongjoong and Wooyoung [especially Wooyoung] were still into the casual dating scene. They didn't seem to have any complaints about how things were going, so as long as they were okay [and not being completely dicks], you were okay.

"This is a nice ass house." Hongjoong looks around the room. "Can you buy me one, too?" 

"I'm pretty sure you can definitely afford one for yourself." Seonghwa gives him a look before he shifts his attention to his phone ringing in his pocket. He quickly excuses himself to the side, while you continue to chat with the other boys and fix around the room. "I'm gonna head downstairs, the decorator is here." Seonghwa pops his head in.

"Oh, is Soyeon here? I can come!"

"It's okay, finish getting ready. I'll take care of it. She's on her way still." You nod, retreating to the restroom while the other boys continue to look around your room, the guest room and the office. Seonghwa races downstairs and opens the side door to the backyard for the decorator. Soyeon is here, but alone, and already helping her friend carry some props into the yard.

"Hey! Is Y/N still getting ready?" Soyeon hugs Hwa and he nods.

"Yeah, the boys kinda rushed in and interrupted."

"Well, perfect timing, I guess, hm?" She smirks. "Ready for today?"

"I think?" She laughs and rubs her hand up and down his arm to ease his nerves.

"It'll all go well. Promise. Don't even worry about it."

"Thanks." He looks at the van pulled up to the side. "Let me help." He introduces himself to her friend and their partner as he does a light jog to the van and starts helping unload. Seonghwa and Soyeon had actually planned the decorations out together, with Seonghwa requesting a few extra details to help the day go as planned.

♡ FLASHBACK | A FEW WEEKS AGO

"Seonghwa!" Junseo smiles. "My brother, what's up!" Seonghwa gives him a good dap as he walks into the restaurant and sits at the bar. "I'm assuming you're here for Soyeon since Y/N isn't here." He nods.

"Yeah. Well, I wanted to talk to the both of you. Is she busy?"

"No, let me grab her from the back."

"Thanks." Seonghwa throws a small wave to Yoongi and Jini as they pass, his knee bouncing up and down while waiting for Soyeon to come. She appears from the back within the next 5 minutes, tying her apron from behind.

"Hwa! What's up? How can I help?" She smiles and plops next to him on the free seat.

"I need some advice."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. At all." He sighs. "I just need to know if I'm doing this right, so please be honest." Junseo tilts his head and cocks a brow up. "Is there ever such a thing as too early?"

"Under what circumstances?" Soyeon already knows where this is going, but she needs Seonghwa to confirm before she jumps the gun.

"You know." His big eyes shoot from Junseo to Soyeon.

"Marriage?" He quietly nods. "Oh my god, Seonghwa! Never! Are you thinking about asking Y/N?!" She excitedly asks. "Stop you're gonna make me cry!" Seonghwa nervously chuckles.

"Y-yeah, I want to, but if it's too early then maybe I should—"

"Hey. No such thing!" She calms him down and puts her hands on his shoulders. "Especially for you two? Definitely no such thing."

"I just—" He shrugs. "My life is her. I can't see my life without her. I haven't been able to and I don't want to. She's it for me."

"Seonghwa." Junseo smiles. "When you know, you know." Soyeon nods in agreement.

"So, have you been thinking about it for awhile?"

"Yeah. I wanna ask her. I don't think I'm good at planning these kinds of things, though. I want it to be perfect for her."

"Of course. Trust me, no one ever feels ready even though you know for sure this is what you want. It's a big moment." Soyeon leans her head on his shoulder as she pulls him in for a quick hug. "We'll help. When did you wanna do it?"

"Our birthday and house-warming party." Junseo nods.

"I know a friend who can help with decorations and stuff. We can plan that out with her and get the things you need."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course!" She smiles widely, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "Oh my god, I'm gonna cry! This is so cute, she's gonna love it either way!"

"She will. We definitely have a lot to celebrate." Junseo laughs.

"Alright, here." She pulls up her friend's business IG account. "This is what she does. What were you thinking?"

"Well, there's this certain picture I have in my head."

♡ END

When you get downstairs, you find Soyeon already helping her friend and Seonghwa place the decorations down onto the table outside where the food and the cake is meant to go. You're in awe of her creations, seeing the beautiful chrome silver, white, and cream balloons sitting alongside the backdrops. The larger board has a simple "Birthday Behavior!" message written in that cute calligraphy font. She also added a beautiful touch with a floral stand full of cream and neutral colored fake roses, peonies, babies breath and other plants around the balloons and backdrops. 

"It's so pretty!" You take a picture. "Thank you, seriously. I love it." You look at Soyeon and her friend.

"Glad you like it!" You take this time to chat a little bit with her friend and Seonghwa while they finish the last touches and begin to head out.

"Mama!" Charli runs in from the side door, followed by Junseo, Yoongi and Jini with some of the food in hand. Charli says her hellos to her uncles and starts playing around in the grassy area of the backyard, chasing after the bubbles from the bubble machine going on. Wooyoung and San are quick to join her in playing, while Hongjoong sets up the karaoke machine in the living room and gets some music going off to the side of the backyard.

It doesn't take too long for Seonghwa's family to start trailing in, and it certainly doesn't take long for the house to be packed and loud. You're having fun and enjoying every bit of it, though. Seonghwa's having fun, your family, your friends. It's the perfect moment. 

And Seonghwa couldn't agree more.

The weather, the music, the vibe of the party— it makes him feel good about his decision to do it on this day. It's like everything fell right onto his lap, the universe pushing him forward to complete the night as he had planned despite his nerves. He had been nervous for the past couple of days, and today, it felt like it was going overboard. He'd have to take quick moments of deep breaths, knowing what the rest of the night held for him.

He's not sure why he's so nervous. He knows you're in this with him. He guesses he just wants everything to go well, to be perfect.

Like you.

"You ready? We're gonna do the cake." Soyeon gives him a look and he simply nods.

"Yeah." She gives him a reassuring smile, telling the other boys to grab the blindfolds and to get ready for the 'cake.' Seonghwa runs upstairs to get himself together, grabbing the tiny box from the office room. He hid it well behind one of his figurines knowing you wouldn't touch or rearrange any of them without him knowing. He chuckles a bit at the silly thought, but it makes his heart melt knowing how much you go along with his silly antics and love him all the same way.

You are perfect.

You have always been.

He jogs back downstairs and sees you near the food tables, Soyeon already clutching the blindfold in her hand. The night sky is lit with a thousand stars, just like the ones that he sees in your eyes whenever he looks at you. 

"Okay everyone! Time to do the cake!" Soyeon smiles, and you clap happily. Seonghwa's heart soars because everyone here knows the plan except you, yet you're cutely excited for said cake. 

"Wait, why the blindfold?" You point at it as Soyeon positions herself behind you and starts fixing it over your eyes, with Junseo positioning himself behind Seonghwa with another blindfold. They had to make it somewhat believable until Soyeon had the blindfold tied properly around your eyes.

"Girl, cause the cake is a surprise, okay? I want you and Hwa to see it together once it's out and on the table."

"Ou, yay!" You squeal. Junseo, San and Hongjoong quietly turn the large backdrop around once they get the green light— Soyeon's friend manipulating the larger board in a way where it could easily be flipped to flash the message on the back:

Marry me?

There is a cake, but it's still sitting in the fridge until after everything happens. There are now rose petals littered everywhere around you, and everyone is gathered around while holding out their phones and single candles.

"Is the cake okay? There's still a cake, right?" Wooyoung lets a loud laugh hearing you question the cake, making Hongjoong nudge him on the side while silently chuckling.

"It is. Sorry, we just had to fix it on the table and get it out of the box carefully." Soyeon throws a thumbs up and receives final confirmation from Seonghwa before starting to undo your blindfold. "Ready?"

"Mhm!" You try to reach out for Hwa's hand but he's nowhere to be found next to you. "Where's Hwa—" Once the blindfold is off, you can't even finish your statement because standing in front of you is Seonghwa in all his beauty. Your bestfriend for over 17 years, your homie, your lover— everything wrapped into one.

He's standing in front of you with the softest smile on his face, hands behind his back.

"Seonghwa?" You furrow your brows in complete confusion, not having a clue as to what's going on. "What're you doing?" You watch as he grabs your hand and kisses the surface, caressing it softly with his thumb.

"Bear with me, okay? I'm really nervous." You continue to look at him in silence. "T-To be honest, I didn't really prepare much of a speech because I've been thinking about this over and over again, and I wasn't even sure what the right words would be. I could say everything and it probably still wouldn't be enough." He chuckles, making everyone 'aw' in unison. "But, after all these years, you've always stayed by my side throughout thick and thin. Bringing out the best in me despite all of our silly arguments and fights. Learning me. Being patient with me. Having fun with me. Doing life with you has been the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I can't see it being any other way." He shrugs a bit. "You're just my person. You're everything to me, and I wanna keep giving you the world until the very end. As long as you'll let me." You slowly nod. Suddenly, your hands come up to cover your mouth and you feel the tears already pooling in your eyes. Seonghwa drops to a knee and pulls out a small box from behind his back, flashing the huge diamond ring sitting in the slit. "Y/N, will you marry me?" You maintain eye contact even when you start bawling. You can't even find the words at the moment and it takes you a hot minute before you can regain your composure. You wish you could stop time and freeze in this very moment, wondering how you hadn't caught on to anything. You weren't even sure how the little things managed to slip by, but you couldn't ponder about it now.

The one thing you're very sure of is:

"Yes. Absolutely, yes." You nod just as Seonghwa slides the ring onto your finger and swoops you up into his arms— your families and friends now crying and clapping to celebrate.

"I love you so much." Seonghwa says in your ear before pressing his lips to your cheek, temple. Lips. "Can't wait to keep doing life with you, baby."

"Me too." You smile as you continue to cry, still trying to process the everything that just happened.

Years of having Seonghwa by your side, lead you both right to this moment, throughout all the trials and tribulations. Seonghwa was here, Seonghwa was always meant to be here— with you.

Loving each other in slow motion like you both always have.

♡ FLASHBACK | LATE COLLEGE

"Y/N!" You hear Seonghwa rush into the house and burst into your room. The door hits the wall so harshly it startles you even though you were expecting him to come in at any second. "Are you okay?" Concern is written all over his face when he drops down to your bedside and lays a hand on your forehead.

"Get your grubby hand off of me." You try shaking it off and all he can do is click his teeth in response.

"Stop." He sighs. "You're burning up. What was your temp earlier?"

"It was fine—"

"No." He says. "Please sit up. I brought some soup." As much as you were okay with being alone, you do appreciate Seonghwa coming by and you do like having him around especially while sick. He fixes the pillows behind you and sets a thick book onto your lap for the small soup bowl to rest on. He pops off the lid and sets it aside, handing you a spoon. "Eat. I'll get you some water." You slowly take a spoonful to your lips and blow, taking the contents into your mouth when you feel like it isn't gonna burn your entire soul. You watch as Seonghwa grabs some of his clothes from your closet before leaving the room— only coming back after he's fully changed into his sweats and shirt, a cup of water in his hand. 

"Here." He sets the water down on your nightstand.

"Pichu, wait." You look at your phone. "Don't you have a date soon?" He shrugs.

"I told her I couldn't go and that I was really sorry." 

"Y-you canceled on your date because of me?"

"You're sick. No one is home with you right now."

"So? I would've been okay, Hwa." He shakes his head and takes your extra pillow, plopping it onto the floor so he can lay down and relax.

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"Why would you do that?"

"It's not a big deal. I promise." He looks at you from the floor. You eat a bit more in silence before you set the soup aside again, sipping on your water. 

"Thank you."

"Of course, Y/N."

"Pichu?"

"Mhm?" He continues to scroll through his phone. 

"I know I'm all gross and sick, but can you come up here?" You pat the free side of your bed. Seonghwa looks at the small pout forming on your lips, and he has to swallow the lump in his throat. Honestly, he really did cancel on his date today because he was worried about you. Yaya, Soyeon and her family had all left to celebrate a close family friend's birthday. You had planned to go, but you definitely didn't plan to wake up feeling nauseous and dizzy from a fever. Yaya had called Seonghwa to let him know that you'd be at home because you were sick and that they'd be home later tonight. She didn't even have to ask for Seonghwa to come because as soon as she had mentioned your sickness, he was already getting in his car to head over to you.

Date down the drain, but he didn't care one bit. He feels bad for canceling on his date somewhat last minute, but he wanted to be with you. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

When the question slips from your lips, Seonghwa doesn't argue. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all. But, he tosses the pillow back onto the side of your bed and sits back against the headboard.

"Come here." He says, opening his arms. You lay on his chest and he throws an arm over you, his finger tracing random patterns on your arm. "Get some more sleep."

"What're you gonna do?"

"Just be here." He shuts his eyes as he rests his head back. "Not going anywhere." And that was the first time you thought maybe, he'd be the one you'd marry. Maybe, he was the one you wanted to marry.

That sounded nice. 

The idea of marrying your bestfriend and being safe, feeling comfort. Not having to change a thing.

Maybe, Seonghwa was your end goal.

♡ END

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @laurenwidjaja @taz-97 @asjkdk @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[brekkie-e]

I need more people talking about how the ideal thematic party is Wyll, Karlach, and Astarion. All three bound in the shackles of servitude in some capacity, all three in some stage of being sold to hell.

Karlach and Astarion being two sides of the same coin. Years of servitude, physical and emotional torment, and rage under their belt. Nothing but the burning desire for revenge and the desperate ache to live flowing through their veins. They're both drunk on freedom and life. They get the other person, despite responding to their new found freedom in completely opposite ways. You can see it in their banter though. They get it. There is not a lot of judgement between them. If Karlach needs to laugh hysterically because she's here on the material plane, walking in the sun, and just can't believe it? Astarion can't even bring himself to judge.

But Wyll? Wyll is careening towards joining them in their suffering. He's got one foot in the door. He already knows a little of the pain that comes with being on the end of a leash, but he has only just begun to fully feel the consequences he is destined to face. The thing about Wyll though is he's desperate to save everyone but himself. He's quick to back Karlach and Astarion in their fights against their tormentors. But when it comes down to it he's fairly passive in his quest to free himself of Mizzora. Atleast in my experience, it fell to Tav to capitalize on oppurtunities to out think her. It fell to Tav to push him to TRY. That's not a critique on Wyll, but when you put that thematically next to Karlach and Astarion who are near feral in their desperation for freedom- it is really interesting. And it's easy to imagine the two of them becoming determined to ensure he doesn't fall victim to the same fates they did. He's trying to save them, while they're trying to save him.

Or, countering my own point, imagine how frustrating that would be for Karlach and Astarion. Knowing that this great guy, this larger than life hero who always has a silly pun and a dashing smile on hand- doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of his situation. He’s still smiling. He’s still soldiering on as though nothing is wrong. He’s not taking the initiative to escape it, and he’s not coming up with any possible solution. He’s content to keep spending his time helping people and putting them before his own needs. Now, Wyll isn’t necessarily as fine as he seems. He’s by no means ignorant of or unafraid of the fate that awaits him. But he puts on a good front, with that big old Charisma modifier of his. And I imagine that could easily drive Astarion and Karlach mad.

That’s without going in to the fact that Astarion has an infernal pact carved on his back, and will be sold to hell as well if he doesn’t find a solution. And he hits the ground running the moment he finds out. He is not about to let that happen, and goes to great lengths to find out how to fix the situation. So there is a contrast with Astarion and Wyll not only in their reaction to their own tormenter’s, but with their goal of evading hell.

Because of how each of these guys’ situation is so closely related to their own, I think many moments would arise of stepping on each other’s toes while processing their trauma. Karlach and Astarion know better than most what Wyll is going to go through if he doesn’t take this seriously, and he makes PUNS? If they could go back to the day before their lives changed forever, they would do everything possible to make sure it never happened. They didn’t get a warning. He has his written on paper. In glowing ink. There could be so many incredible arguments between these three because personality wise- more often than not it would be Karlach and Wyll agreeing. Which would make the moments Karlach ends up siding with Astarion because Wyll made light of something at the wrong time all the more poignant. Karlach and Astarion agreeing on something and being a united front trying to drag Wyll to action would be such a powerful scene.

It becomes even more fun when you consider their personalities. Wyll and Karlach being the indisputably kindest characters of the group, but being so narratively tied to the one who is morally bankrupt. When someone is altruistically good and helps people for no reason Astarion usually gets frustrated with the fact they don’t understand how cruel the world is. He doesn’t do that with Karlach. He can’t do that with Karlach. Because she’s him. She’s the part of him who rages and screams and let’s every swear word fly and embraces how much hurt she is carrying and how entirely unfair it is. He sees that in her and I think some part of him is validated by it. So when she is unbearably kind and refuses to believe that there’s no good left in the world, who is he to tell her she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She has just as much baggage to back her up as he does. He just walks off and let’s her have it in most of the banter I’ve heard. The flip side, he validates her own need for vengeance and doesn’t let her feel like a bad person for enjoying taking her anger out. She deserves it after everything that’s been taken from her.

Wyll is a similar situation. He is a constant example of the goodness of humanity. A reminder that it is more important to remain true to oneself even at the expense of power or comfort. He stays true to himself, and is forced to abandon his home. He stays true to himself, and is forced to endure a form that is foreign to him. He stays true to himself, and forsakes the safety of the material plane. In the process, he sacrifices the powers of his pact. He willingly gives up the position of Grand Duke so that he can be the tool for good that he thinks the world needs. Of course, a million points can also be made about all that he’s willing to sacrifice if you go the route of maintaining his pact- but I’m working off of what I personally saw play out, which was destroy the pact but save the Grand Duke.

Wyll’s personality playing off Astarion’s selfishness is so interesting. The first things Astarion reaches for in every situation are power and comfort. Silk sheets, a good wine, unholy ascension- whatever the whim of the day is. Being forced into the company of someone who constantly reminds him there is a vastly different approach to life would both be frustrating and eye opening. Especially when that example is backed up by Karlach whom Astarion can’t help but respect and find oddly comforting. Vice versa, as Wyll is an example of selflessness to Astarion, he is an example of selfishness to Wyll. Where Wyll and Karlach drag Astarion kicking and screaming towards recovery, he might have his own soft moments of begging Wyll to put himself first. Just once. Being selfish about your needs does not make you a bad person. A dynamic made even better by Karlach being the background example that being unapologetic about your needs is okay. All of these little elements play off each other so well.

Now how do these guys come through for Karlach? Stability. Which is a word I NEVER thought to use in reference to Astarion before. But I’m serious. Day one of freedom for him? Where is his mind? Completely focused on how to make sure it lasts. How does he secure the situation. How does he make himself safe permanently? He is a self proclaimed ideas man, not much of a planner. And yet, he IS coming up with ideas. He is thinking ahead about the future, and planning to take every chance he can to secure his freedom. Karlach is living in the moment, taking each day as a blessing and not letting fears of the future hold her back. And she deserves that. But it’s good for her to have someone pulling her back to earth and reminding her to do more than live in the moment when it comes to the big things. I’m serious, if they all three put their heads together and worked as a team not only would they be able to accomplish anything- the found family potential is absolutely limitless.

So- long story short. I personally find them to be the most satisfying and interesting party dynamic you can play with. It’s rewarding on a lot of levels, and also has some of the best friendship dialogues in the game. Which I’ve noticed there just isn’t a lot of friend-centric commentary or scenes in the base game, but this party does seem to get more than other’s I’ve worked with. I think that’s a larger issue than just which party build you run with, but I do enjoy that you can get a satisfying found family feel with this crew. Of course, romancing them as eachother also works pretty well too- the dynamics are just as good for that. Personally, I enjoy romancing Astarion and then keeping Karlach and Wyll as besties, but there’s a lot of ways you can run with it.

[take-it-sleazy375]

HOW TO SUCCESSFULLY CATCH AND RELEASE!

1. Look for your prey at night. Easier to hide, less people. Easy math.

2. Wear a mask. She won't bother going to the cops if she doesn't think she could even identify you.

3. Bring a belt. She a screamer? Loop it around her neck for a choke collar. She a fighter? Loop around the wrists for handcuffs. You a sadistic bastard? Whip her with it until she passes out.

4. Hurt them to shut them up. I suggest impact over cuts, you don't want them to have to go to the hospital. It'll be reported. Try not to hit the face too much either. A good rape slut will be too humiliated or scared to report it, but if she's got two black eyes and a missing tooth, everyone's gonna ask her what happened. The easiest option for her should be to return to normal life and pretend it didn't happen. Hit her hard in the gut or the ribs. Don't be scared to break something. Knock the wind out of her and she loses her voice and her fight.

5. Get her in your vehicle asap. More space the better, I like to use my truck.

6. Have something ready to chain her up once you get her in. Hurt her first so she doesn't fight ya. Once she's chained she'll give up hope on a quick escape. Pulling a knife on her is effective at this point. Remember though gentleman, nothing worthy of stitches or the cops will be at your door first thing tomorrow.

7. Play some music, real romantic. I go with hillbilly deluxe to set the mood, myself.

8. Here it is boys, the big show! Step 8! You got yourself a pretty free use whore until further notice! Everything you've ever wanted to do to a hot chick is on the table, and it's your job to fuck that cunt so freak nasty you get to cut to the front of the line in hell!! Fuck her tits, rape a baby into her pussy, jizz on her face!! Whip, slap and bleed that bitch until she thinks she's two steps from death! Bruise her ass black, pinch her nipples until she blows her vocals out screaming! Make it humiliating, make it HURT! Make it a night she'll try to forget for the rest of her life!

9. Don't forget to make her cum her stupid fucking brains out! Don't let her forget how much her body loves this! Make her writhe under your grip until she squirts, melt her fucking brain! She'll be so humiliated thinking about how many times you made her cum around your cock, she'll forget it was rape at all! Make her thank you every time she cums, make her shriek out loud that she loves your filthy bastard cock!

10. Take. Every. Hole. Her body ain't hers tonight, and if you fuck her right, it'll belong to you for the rest of her life. Her whole body will be violated by the time you're done. She'll be a mess of aching bruises and abused holes and she will never shake the feeling that you took everything you could have taken from her.

11. Had your fun? Time to clean up. Take a few pretty pictures for later. Hogtie her good and drive her just out of town. Once you're on a nice empty road, give the bitch her clothes and cut her loose. Keep her panties as a trophy and peel out, brother!

12. Set a course for home and plan your next night out!

[milliesfishes]

hiii i know you don’t write smut but i don’t think this falls under smut? but if it’s uncomfortable to write about please ignore!!

billy with reader who only feels loved when she sexualizes herself and how he would kinda comfort her about that. like maybe he comes home and shes all perfect for him even though deep down shes having a bad day and just wants to cry and he’s just like im not here for any of that stuff im here for you.

꣑ৎ౨ৎbilly when you feel like you have to sexualize yourself꣑ৎ౨ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Wrung dry from the day's demands, you collapsed into the kitchen chair, fanning a hand over your eyes and taking in a deep breath. The memories of earlier were frozen solid to you like icicles in the winter, and you were trying to melt them, let the water flow through the stream of your mind elsewhere.

To your dismay, it was fruitless.

It felt as though nothing could go right. You woke up an hour later than you had wanted, which had set you back on chores. When you tugged your dress on, there had been a sickening tear that announced a new absence of stitches under your arm. The porch outside that needed sweeping had been littered with cobwebs that caught the bristles of your broom and made you shudder at the texture. And on your way down to the garden you had tripped on a loose board poking from the steps, skinning your knee bloody on the way down.

Holding back tears, you continued and tried to find a silver lining. One of your tomato plants was blooming beautifully, although the rest had been consumed by pests. You had been able to finish your chores, although it was now almost sunset and you'd had to start supper late.

Soup was boiling on the stove, and you hesitantly rose to peer into the pot. Just about done. Billy would be happy to have a hot meal when he came home.

Billy would be home soon. Your eyes widened and you rushed down the hall to the washroom, where a little mirror was positioned over the sink. Looking at your reflection, you nearly cried. The day's events had indeed taken a toll on you. Pinching your cheeks, you reached for your brush and combed it through your messy hair. The tangles pulled at your scalp and you winced slightly, pushing through.

In order to finish your chores in a timely manner you hadn't bothered to swap out your torn dress, and now you debated quickly rifling through your collection to change it. But when the familiar sound of heavy bootsteps on the porch graced your ears, you disregarded it, deciding to keep your arms down.

The door swung open, a creak announcing Billy's arrival. You plastered a sweet smile to your face and took in a deep breath. Be his girl.

Instantly when you saw him some of the tension melted away. He set his hat on the wall hook, unfastening his gun belt and slinging it over the chair by the door. When he saw you, a broad smile lightened his face, and he held his arms out. "There she is."

You ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting him lift you off your feet. It took all but two seconds for you to remember your dress and you winced but moved on. Billy buried his face in your neck, pressing a kiss there that made you giggle. "Been missin' my girl all day."

"I missed you too," you murmured, ignoring the way his gentle touch made you want to cry. There wasn't any way you would dream of telling Billy about your train wreck of a day. Not when he was out risking life and liberty under the watchful eye of the law. Your problems paled in comparison.

The least you could do was give him something nice to come home to. Whether it be kisses or your bare body later.

With that in mind, you pulled back and nudged his nose with yours, making him smile before you caught his lips in a kiss. He obliged eagerly, shifting you so he was holding your thighs up, his hips between them. You pushed down any feelings of negative variety, focusing on the kiss. He needed to feel good. That was your priority.

Billy broke the kiss, giving you a fond look. "It smells good, didja make somethin'?"

Nodding, you kept your smile pressed in place. "It's on the stove."

"Ah!" He set you down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, smacking a kiss on your forehead. "You'll turn me into a kept man, darlin'." As he pulled you into the kitchen, you felt as though you were batting away your feelings with a stick. They kept rebounding, but you were able to keep them at bay.

Dinner was a painful affair. If it hadn't been Billy sitting across from you there was a more than likely chance you would have broken into pieces. He chattered about his day, grinning broadly at you through mouthfuls of soup.

Inside you were boiling, about to spill over. The sunset was a brilliant orange through the window, and you stared at it for a moment, getting lost in the stark fall color painted on the cerulean sky. The same blue as his eyes. You breathed in once, frustrated at yourself. Why were you still upset? Billy was home, it was all okay.

Even though you told yourself this over and over, the feeling did not dissipate. And you stayed quiet, nodding at what Billy was saying absentmindedly.

It was only when you realized he had stopped talking that you looked back at him, eyes wide. His brow was knitted, and you chided yourself. You stopped paying attention and now he's worried. He shouldn't have to be worried because of you.

"You okay, angel?" Billy reached for your hand, squeezing the fingers.

"Yes." You nodded, pasting the smile back on. "Yes, I'm fine. Everything is fine."

He didn't look convinced, and you panicked, standing up and going to him. Slotting yourself between his legs, you took his face in your hands and brushed some of his hair back, searching his eyes. Billy gazed up at you, blue eyes showing nothing short of devotion. You internally breathed a sigh of relief. He loved you. He still loved you.

Billy's hands found your waist, and he pulled you down to sit on his thigh, legs tucked primly between his. He watched you for a moment, fingers stroking your sides. You felt a jolt of anxiety, worried that he was worrying.

Leaning in, you kissed him soundly, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. His stubble prickled your skin, and you pressed your chest to his, making him grunt. One of Billy's hands found your lower back, pushing you into him. Your mind calmed just slightly at that; thankful he still wanted you.

Taking his other hand, you used it to cover one of your breasts, lips moving fluently. Billy paused, nuzzling your nose before he dove back in. You shifted on his lap so you were straddling him, your movements methodical. The feeling of dread was mounting in your chest, as if there were a solid mass poking your ribs.

You tried to ignore it. But before you could stop, a choked breath escaped your lips, and you pulled back, chest heaving as your eyes fell to his shoulder. In an instant Billy's hands were on your waist, rubbing carefully. "Sweetheart?"

The tenderness in which he delivered the name sparked tears in your eyes, and you refused to look at him, nodding hastily. "Yes. Yes, everything's fine. I'm fine, I'm-" your breath hitched, and you blinked rapidly, risking a glance at him.

Billy was frowning, eyes brimming with concern. He moved his hands soothingly on your waist. "Baby...what'sa matter?"

"Nothing." You leaned back in and kissed him. His lips nudged yours, but his expression didn't change, eyes not closing. You grew tense with anxiety again, taking his face in your hands and kissing his nose. Then his lips again. Billy remained looking at you.

It wasn't working. You reached for his hand, tried to position it on your breast again, but he lifted it to your face, settling his palm on your cheek. The way he was watching you made you want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. He thumbed your temple, looking at you like you were a code he wanted to break. When he spoke, it was a single word. "Angel." You swallowed, and he continued. "Angel, what'sa matter?"

"You wanted to..." you tried once more to put his hand on your breast. But he shook his head and repositioned it on your face, causing your cheeks to fill with color.

"Not if you're not feelin' good, sweetheart." The way he said it only dug a deeper chasm inside you. Guilt overwhelmed your senses as you figured you had done something wrong.

That was when you broke. The dam all but crumbled, and your cheeks flooded with the tears you'd been wanting to shed all day. You hid your face in your hands, too ashamed to look at him. "I'm f-ine."

He was pulling you in now, hand on your crown carefully guiding your face to his shoulder. Billy held you tight to him, and you broke down, shivering between his arms.

"Shh," he soothed, rocking back and forth. "Deep breaths, honey. Deep breaths. I've gotcha. It's okay." Billy traced shapes into your back, noting when you untensed. "There you go. Atta girl."

You kept your head where it was, almost hiding from him. Against his shirt, your cheeks flushed with humiliation. He was never meant to see you like this. The thought was what made you sit up fully, hurriedly wiping your eyes and avoiding his. "I'm sorry, I'm-"

"'s okay...sweetie..." Billy squeezed your sides gently. "Nothin' to say sorry for. What happened?"

"Just had a bad day." You waved a hand, setting it on his chest alongside your other one. Rubbing him there slightly, you tried to smile. "I'm okay."

"Hey-" Billy's hands framed your cheeks, and you stopped, worried you'd done something wrong. He held you still for a moment, letting the silence fill the air. Then, quietly, "'s okay to have a bad day. You can tell me."

You felt something pinch inside of you, brushing your bones with words you'd never been told before. Billy furthered it, saying, "Baby...you don't have to pretend it's okay."

Now you were stripped bare in front of him, down to the core. Billy smoothed your hair, tucking some behind your ears. Your bottom lip trembled, and he hushed you gently, rubbing your back. "Why don't you go lay down for a minute, hm? And I can clean up here?"

You began to protest, but he shook his head, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple. "Go get ready for bed, mkay? I'll be along."

Shamefully, you let him stand you up, sending you off with a kiss to your hairline. You tearfully prepared yourself for bed, removing your torn dress and setting it aside for mending, donning a nightdress and getting under the covers, lying on your side and shutting your eyes.

Billy joined you in practically no time, the sounds of him removing his work clothes and setting his boots aside evident. When he pulled the covers back and rested a gentle hand on your hip, you turned into him, nuzzling against his bare chest. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

As he held you, the feeling that you had been shoving at all day began to melt. And when you opened your eyes, he was already looking down at you, face calm as you began to relax. Billy pressed his lips to your hair, sheltering you in his arms. When he spoke, it was softly. "You don't have to worry 'bout bein' okay all the time. Don't want you to be hurtin' so bad 'n feel like you have to hide it." He swiped a thumb over your cheek. "Don't hide it."

You took in a shaky breath, burrowing into his arms. "I just wanna be happy for you. Make you feel good. You have so much to worry about."

"Honey-" Billy braced his hands on your cheeks, searching your eyes. He touched his lips to your nose, making you smile just a little. "Havin' one bad day doesn't make any difference. You're always so happy, my happy girl." He softened when you leaned into his palm. "'m not here to use you, sweetheart. I love you. 'm here for you."

"For me." you repeated it quietly, and he kissed your forehead, nodding.

"For you," he affirmed. "I love everything you give me because it's you."

Something warm was blooming in your heart. You breathed in once, suddenly understanding the magnitude of how much he really loved you. Somehow in all your time with him you'd never realized he was here to stay. A secret voice within had convinced you that it you weren't perfect he would use it to leave.

But Billy wasn't a man who tossed things aside. He'd been running all his life and now he wanted to stand still.

He wanted to stand still with you.

"I love you," he whispered, tucking your head under his chin. And for the first time you realized he wasn't saying it to fill the air.

It was a promise. one never to be broken.

As he brought you close so your ear touched the space over his heart, you felt that promise being fulfilled. You gave him devotion and so he would return it. Was that what love was? Looking up at Billy, you wondered to yourself, amazed at this new discovery.

You felt it in the way he watched you. He said it again, sparking something that felt like springtime in your heart. "I love you."

It soaked your tongue like sugar, a true smile sweeping away the dust your false ones left behind tonight.

"I love you too."