#WAIT WHO GAVE HIM MY ADDRESS HELP | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

not-neverland06 · 10 months ago

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broken promises

pt two

bodyguard!logan howlett x congressman's daughter!reader

a/n: the fact that he was canonically a bodyguard makes me absolutely insane someone congratulate me, I finally figured out how to make my own dividers Summary: He's learned from past mistakes that no matter how tempting the girl is, it's better not to get involved. He just needs some cash, he doesn't give a fuck how pretty you are. He doesn't care about you. He makes it clear he wants nothing to do with you besides seeing you sign his check. But, is that really all he wants? You're not blind to the way he looks at you. 18+ MDNI Shameless smut at the end, I'm not sorry about it at all.

Logan had gotten used to this. The long drawn-out wait to meet with the man who wanted to hire him. He always arrived right on time, not a moment earlier. They all had the same game they liked to play.

The secretary would greet him, a pretty girl in her 20s that the men were screwing or trying to screw. Then they would make him sit in the lobby for half an hour. They’d apologize by pushing the blame on someone else, saying a meeting had gone on too long. But there wasn’t a meeting. There never was.

They liked to make themselves seem more important than they were. It was a power game, an intimidation tactic that he had always scoffed at. He didn’t give a fuck what government ties they had or otherwise. He just wanted his paycheck.

This one was no different. A congressman who had only recently begun to make waves when he started up an anti-mutant agenda. Ironic that he had specifically requested Logan for the very thing he was trying to eradicate.

There was a buzz and then the secretary was picking up her phone. She spared Logan a fleeting glance before whispering something into the receiver. She looked over at him and he already knew what she was going to say. “He’s ready for you now.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she gave him a coquettish smile as he made his way towards the large office at the end of the hall. The door was closed when he reached it, three quick knocks and then a quiet Come in.

The man didn’t even look up to greet him. He continued signing something on his desk. Logan took a seat in one of the chairs, waiting for another few minutes before he was deemed important enough to address. He received a tight smile and narrowed eyes as the man took in the way he was dressed.

He never dressed up for these things. He’d learned a while ago that a suit wasn’t going to get him any further than his leather jacket was. Might as well be comfortable while talking to these pricks.

“Had a phone call with an associate of mine. Ran on longer than I meant it to.” Always an excuse, never an apology.

Logan scoffed and shrugged. “I was fine.”

The man sniffed, “I’m sure. Look, I’ll cut straight to the chase. You come highly recommended by my peers and I need help fast.” Logan nodded, motioning for him to continue. The man’s eyes lingered on his fists for a long while before he finished. “It’s my daughter. Things have been a little rough for her at school, for lack of a better word. Especially since this new campaign started. I just need someone to keep a closer eye on her.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, “She a party girl or something?” He wasn’t sure he could handle another bratty daddy’s girl again. The last one had nearly made him blow his brains out. They always think flipping their skirts up will let them get away with more and he can’t stand it.

The man’s face blanched and he shook his head so vigorously that his jowls moved with him. “Oh, no, not at all. But she’s,” he paused and lowered his voice. He leaned in closer to Logan and waited for Logan to do the same. He rolled his eyes but did it anyway. “She’s like you, you know.”

Logan shot him a grin, “You mean a mutant.”

“Lower your voice,” he hissed, face tightening up in anger. “But, yes, a mutant. And I need one to guard her.” Ironic, this man was driving a campaign to make mutants second-class citizens, and his daughter was one. But Logan needed a check, he didn’t give a fuck about the morals of it all.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Perfect, you can pick her up from school for me.”

You had your earbuds in, head lowered while you made the trek across campus when you noticed him. He was difficult to miss, tall and buff. Very buff, you’re surprised that tank top of his hasn’t ripped every time he flexes.

Your dad’s newest campaign has you hyper-aware of your surroundings. You can’t afford to let your guard down. Not after the last attack.

There’s something about this man that tells you he isn’t someone looking to jump you, though. You’re not sure what it is. Every part of him screams danger, but not the type you’re looking out for. The cigar perched between his lips, the glistening muscles you want to bite, he’s trouble.

When you spot him outside your lecture hall for the third time that day, you finally figure out what’s happening. Your dad had told you he’d hired someone new to watch over you at school. You hadn’t voiced just how against it you were, but you didn’t like the idea.

You didn’t mind this guy, though. He wasn’t busting into your classes and embarrassing the shit out of you by making everyone empty their pockets like the last guy. He just lingered. You could deal with lingering.

What you couldn’t deal with was the way he was leaning against his motorcycle, smirking as you slowly approached him.

“Did my dad hire you?” You call out, tugging your earbuds out. “Who are you?”

He speaks around the cigar like it's second nature. “Your new bodyguard, sweetheart.” You suck in a deep breath when you hear his voice. He’s extremely attractive, you're surprised your dad would risk this.

One of the other ones had kind of gotten a little obsessed, stalking you even in his off hours. You didn’t think your dad would want another pretty boy around you. Though, you suppose this one isn’t pretty. He’s extremely handsome, ruggedly so, very manly. Jesus, you might end up being the stalker this time.

His lips curl up like he knows what you’re thinking about. You clear your throat, shifting your backpack higher up your arm. “You planning on taking me home on that?” You ask, pointing at his bike.

He straightens up and shrugs. “Got a problem with the bike?”

You grin, “Not really,” but your dad will. “No, not at all.”

You walk towards him and he reaches out, grabbing your backpack straps and tugging you towards him. You stumble, hands bracing against his chest so you don’t land flat on your face. “Sorry, kid,” but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He buckles the straps of your backpack together and tightens them, puffing smoke in your face while he does. “Don’t want this flying off.”

“Mhm,” you hum. You’re not paying attention at all. The only thing you care about right now is just how ripped he is under your hands. You’re not sure how long you gawk at him but he seems to be ridiculously amused by it.

“Ready to go home, or what?” You jump back from him, brushing your hands off on your leggings and clearing your throat.

“Yes, yeah.” You rip your eyes off his body and instead focus on the bike. “No helmets?” You ask.

“You heal, don’t you?” You nod and he shrugs. “Don’t need them then, do we?”

You can’t help the giddy grin on your face at that. It’s gotten tiring being treated like glass. You’re about to get on the bike when you finally process what he said. “Wait, how do you know I heal?”

He doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, his gaze darts down to his fists. Your eyes widen when you see the metal poking through the skin. Of course, your father would only tell another mutant about his abomination of a daughter. You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s such a fucking hypocrite.

Logan climbs on the bike and you follow after him. You're hesitant to wrap your arms around his waist but he just reaches behind himself and jerks you forward.

You suck in a sharp breath, pelvis tight against his ass while he squeezes your hands. “You want to go flying?” You shake your head and he chuckles, starting the bike and driving off without another word.

Part of you loves the ride home, the other part detests it. For once you get to experience a little freedom. You’re not trapped in a steel box staring at the back of a car seat while the man beside you pretends he doesn’t exist.

You can feel the wind in your hair, get a taste of real speed, and enjoy a moment uninterrupted by someone’s expectations of you. On the other hand, Logan does not respect speeding laws. And healing abilities or not, you don’t actually want to experience road rash.

He manages to get you home in one piece, parking the motorcycle in the driveway and waiting for you to get off. But you can’t, your thighs have been clenching the seat so tight you think they might need to scrape you off.

“Kid?” He mutters. You shake your head against his back, arms still strangling his waist. It was actually kind of fucking terrifying being on one of these things. You can’t tell if you loved or hated it.

He lets out a rough sigh, forcibly moving your arms and then tugging you off the seat. Your legs are like jello while you try and straighten out. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks. You can’t manage much more than a strangled hum and he laughs.

You turn to your front door and spot a leering face peering out the window. “Shit,” you huff. Your stepmother sees you spot her and disappears from view. You feel your hopes of ever getting back on that bike go with her.

“You took her home on your bike!”

“Well-”

You flinch at the volume of your father’s voice. “I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is! I will not have my daughter seen riding that monstrosity! You are not to do this again, do you understand me?”

You don’t know what Logan says, but you’re certain it’s not the submissive Yes, sir your father is looking for. He continues shouting at him for another ten minutes. When you hear the door to his office open you scramble to look like you hadn’t been listening in.

But you’re a bad actress and if his huff of laughter is anything to go by, Logan knows what you were doing. “Did you know that was going to happen?” He asks, pointing back to your father’s, now closed, study.

You nod, pursing your lips with an apologetic smile. “If it helps, I was really hoping he wouldn’t do that.”

He shrugs, “I don’t really give a fuck how much he wants to scream at me.” It’s refreshing, to finally have someone in the house who doesn’t kiss your father’s ass. It makes you smile, a real genuine smile for the first time in a while.

You stand from the chair you’d been sitting in, gesturing further into your home. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten all day so I was thinking about making something.”

The smirk drops from his face, expression suddenly serious. It makes you tense up. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m here to get paid. I don’t want to be your friend, kid.”

You suck in a sharp breath, trying not to let the rejection sting. He’s a professional, it should be a relief after the last one. “Right, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.”

He nods, “Right,” tone stiff. You stare at him for another awkwardly long moment before you finally turn on your heel and walk toward the kitchen. You rush there, speedwalking so you don’t have to look at him any longer.

You open up your fridge, keeping your back to him for as long as humanly possible. You can hear him take a seat at the island, can feel the way his eyes bore into you. It’s a physical thing, his gaze, makes chills scrape their way down your spine.

You make yourself a sandwich and finally force yourself to turn around. Like you’d expected, he’s already looking at you. Lips ticking up just slightly when you finally get the courage to look up at him.

Logan feels a little guilty. You weren’t coming onto him earlier, you were being genuine with your kindness. He knows there were no ulterior motives to it and there’s a very slight part of him that feels bad for making you so quiet. “Why’s your dad so pissy about the bike?”

You’re a little startled by the question, after the comment he made you’d thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You swallow down the rest of your bite and cough a little when the bread gets stuck on the roof of your mouth.

“He doesn’t want me to crash.”

“But you heal,” he points out bluntly and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. He doesn’t want me to crash and for someone to see that I miraculously healed. Having a freak for a daughter wouldn’t exactly help his campaign, would it?” You can’t even attempt to hide the bitterness in your voice. And you know Logan picks up on it because he doesn’t ask any more questions.

Your gaze drops to your plate and you finish the rest of your meal in silence. Or, you try to. “Got any plans tonight?”

You chuckle and give him an odd look. “No,” you respond sardonically. “None at all, prepare yourself for a very boring job. I don’t even know why he hired you, I never leave the house unless it's for school.”

“Yeah?” he muses, but he doesn’t seem particularly interested. More like he’s talking just to pass the time. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time at school.”

You suck in a sharp breath, a sudden wave of anger roiling through your gut. The cabinets behind you begin to shake and you wince in embarrassment, tamping down on your powers before you accidentally blow up the kitchen.

Logan watches the moment with subdued interest like he’s not all that surprised or impressed with the display. “Unless they were a PoliSci nerd, I was a nobody up until last year.” There’s no concealing the hate lurking within your words, “And then my dad took up this whole anti-mutant regime. Well, you can imagine how much the activists love me. I’ve just had a few incidents with some particularly passionate protestors.”

“Do you believe in it?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, you hadn’t expected him to actually continue the conversation. “What do you mean?”

He leans back, arms crossed across his chest in a way that makes his biceps bulge. He shrugs, “The anti-mutant regime, do you agree with it?”

You open your mouth, the perfected script almost rolling off your tongue. But this isn’t some politician's son you’re wooing. You’re not the perfect daughter, you’re in your own home, finally talking to someone else like you.

“No.” You answer, voice strong in its conviction. “And every time I see one of his PAs running around with their little signs I want to ram the stick up their ass.”

He barks out a laugh, eyes crinkling up in amusement. “I think we might get along, kid.”

You try to ignore the way your cheeks warm at his words. You don’t want to be this affected by him, you’ve barely spoken to him. But this is the first person in a long time that you know with absolute certainty you can be honest with. He doesn’t care about protecting your political image or bowing to your father’s every whim.

It’s a relief, like a constricting weight being taken off your chest. You give him an easy smile and get up to wash your dishes. His eyes are on you again but they feel less oppressive this time. You’ve already forgotten the rule he’s set in place, you’re not supposed to be friends.

It’s going to be hard to remember that.

Your father tightens his grip around your waist until you feel like you might squeal. “Smile, now.” You raise your hand, taking the stairs up the stage and waving out at the crowd that’s formed. It’s hot today, your makeup would be melting off if it weren’t for the artists who put it on for you.

Always have to look good in front of the camera. All of you. Seeing Logan in a suit was certainly a surprise. You’re almost completely sure that your father had to give him a bonus to even consider wearing it today.

He looks good, but you honestly prefer him in the normal beater and leather jacket. It’s something so uniquely him. This is just a reminder of your reality, that nothing around you is real. It’s all pretty lies wrapped up in expensive clothes.

You have to bite your tongue and hold back a grimace when your father begins his speech. “First, we had to let them into our jobs. Now they’re in our schools! Our children aren’t safe, not when they’ve got loaded weapons sitting beside them! Because that’s exactly what they are, weapons of mass destruction that will take apart-”

“Fuck me,” you hiss under your breath. Your cheeks hurt from keeping this smile on your face. You’re struggling not to flinch every time the crowd surges up to agree with him, bigoted shouts making your ears bleed.

Logan’s brows raise and he gives you a brief glance over his shoulder. Your face pinches in confusion only for a moment before you quickly correct it. Still, you keep your lips nearly completely motionless as you whisper, “Can you hear me?”

You dart your gaze back down to him and catch the barest of nods. Your smile softens, becoming something real if only for a moment. You don’t say anything else, you don’t need to. It’s just a comfort to know someone else is there with you, seeing through the painted faces and plastic smiles.

There’s movement in the crowd. It cuts your father off midsentence. He peers over the podium, trying to get a better look at what’s happening. You hear someone scream and then the entire crowd is getting knocked to the ground.

You jump back in shock, everyone on stage still. The security, however, is rushing to get to you and your family. It’s too late, though, there’s a mutant in the crowd and his eyes are set on you. “Fuck you,” he screams out your father's name and lugs something at the stage.

You hear someone shout your name but it’s too late. Glass shatters against the side of your face. It takes less than a second for the pain to start. You can feel holes being burned through your skin, like living fire melting through your bones and gums. A scream rips out of your throat, your hands coming up to block your face too late.

“Get her out of here!”

As agonizing as it is, you can already feel your skin working to mend itself. You can practically hear the flesh bonding back together. But the acid is dripping down you. It keeps moving steadily through your clothes and skin, your abilities on overdrive trying to repair the damage.

You can’t focus on anything except the sensation of being burned alive. Suddenly, there’s an arm being thrown around your shoulder and you’re being lifted off your feet. Your skin scrapes against the rough material of someone’s blazer and it makes you grit your teeth and scream again.

“I know, hold on kid, it’ll be over in a minute.” Logan rushes you behind the stage, where there are no cameras to watch you heal. You don’t know how your father’s PR team is going to spin this. Everyone saw it, saw the way your flesh bubbled and boiled. There’s no hiding the fact that half your face should be melted off.

“Car,” you grunt out when he puts you on your feet again.

His hands are clamped firmly around your shoulders, inspecting you for any further damage. “What?”

“We gotta get to the car,” the words are a struggle to get out. Your lungs constrict painfully in your chest while you force the rest out. “Can’t let them see.”

He looks pissed off that that's what you're worried about and not the fact that you were just attacked. Finally, after a minute of just staring at you, he nods. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and runs with you back to the limo. He throws the door open, pushing you inside and sliding in beside you.

You take in a deep breath the second you’re no longer in view of the TV cameras. “Fuck,” you gasp out. Your dress is in tatters on your left side and you quickly cover your chest. You pray that you didn’t accidentally flash anything while you were still on stage. Your father would never forgive you for that.

It’s silent in the car for a moment. You feel something being draped over your shoulder and look over to see Logan passing you his jacket. When he catches your gaze he gently grabs your jaw and titls your face towards his.

His eyes rove over the left side of your face and he gives you a tight smile. “You’re fine, kid.”

You pull your chin out of his grip and pull his jacket closed around you. “See why my father wanted you around? How would he have ever explained his daughter surviving an acid attack?”

There’s something pinched in his gaze. A deep-seated irritation and something else you’re too tired to identify. He’s looking at you oddly and you wish he wouldn’t. You press your forehead to the cool glass of the window and slump against the car door.

You don’t know when you fall asleep but by the time you wake up, Logan’s already carrying you up to your room. He sees you shift awake and places you on your feet. You steady yourself against the stair banister and walk the rest of the way to your room, trying to shake off the pain of the day.

You look back just in time to see Logan at the front door. “Goodnight,” you call down to him. You know he can hear you, but he walks through the door without another word. You bite your lip, ignoring the sinking feeling of your gut.

You toss your destroyed dress to the floor and turn your TV on. You surf through the channels for a bit before finding a clip of today’s incident. “-apparently part of a protest for mutants against the government. I don’t know Bill, they seem to just be proving everybody’s point. They are unsafe.”

“I agree, my thoughts and prayers go out to…”

You roll your eyes as they say your name. They’re saying it wasn’t acid, instead it’s some sort of chemical compound that causes extreme pain. Even you don’t believe that bullshit. You have a feeling your father is going to be looking for a new PR team tomorrow.

Your attention is snagged by the replay of the accident. You don’t focus on the acid, you don’t want to. Instead, you see how quickly Logan rushed to your side. He seemed to be right there even as the acid was being thrown.

Your brows pinch together and you glance at the jacket beside you. He’d forgotten to take it back before he left. You pick it up, eyes skating over the fabric before you find what you’re looking for. There’s a large hole in the right sleeve, acid having burned through it.

You hadn’t even realized he was in pain. You know he can heal, but it doesn’t get rid of the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You’ve never had someone look after you like that.

You grin to yourself, tucking the jacket in the back of your closet. You’re sure he wouldn’t want it back and you’re not planning on parting with it anytime soon.

You’re on house arrest for a week after the acid incident. Which includes no school. Your father has to play into the idea that you’re recovering from the trauma and healing. You don’t know how much longer he’s planning on keeping you locked up but you’re going stir crazy.

Not only do you not get to go to classes, but Logan isn’t around either. He doesn’t need to be, not when the only place you’re in is your room. He’s not a friend, he’s made that clear, but he’s something. And you are desperately craving that specific something.

“It was a sickening attack against my daughter that my wife and I are still trying to recover from.” You roll your eyes as you listen to your father spew his bullshit to the interviewer in the next room.

You’re not allowed to be out and about, of course. You can’t risk someone seeing you. But that doesn’t stop you from lurking.

“It was an incredibly traumatic experience for her, I’m sure.” You grin to yourself, picking at your nails. You like this one, whoever the reporter is interviewing him. She hasn’t let him catch a break. Especially not when he tries to capitalize on your trauma. Even though he hasn’t checked in once with you.

“Well,” he splutters for a moment. “Yes, of course,” he tries to sound humble but anyone can tell he’s just covering his ass. “And it just further proves what I’ve always said about mutants. They are animals, they’re not like us.”

You’d think at a certain point you’d go numb to it. You’ve been raised hearing this rhetoric from him all your life. But the sting never eases. That cloying ache in your chest never quite leaves you. Not when you know the only reason he publicly accepts you is for political gains. So everyone can see what a wonderful father he is and vote for him.

You feel sick to your stomach and you don’t think you can listen to much more of this. But right as you’re about to tap out a hand clamps down on your shoulder. You nearly scream but you catch a whiff of the man’s aftershave and your mouth snaps shut.

You leap out of your chair and whip around, a grin plastered on your face. “Logan, what are you doing here?” You can’t disguise the giddiness in your voice. He might constantly be reminding you that you hold nothing more than a professional relationship, but you don’t give a shit. He’s a constant in your life and that’s rare for you, so you’ll latch onto whatever comfort you can find.

His gaze briefly darts to the connecting wall to your father’s study and you flush. He’d probably heard all of that. You’ve never had someone see the side of your father that you do. There’s something shamefully embarrassing about it.

He looks back at you and gives you a sly smirk. “Wanna get out of here?” You’d have to be an idiot to say no.

“Uh,” you can hear the music from where you stand across the street. You shuffle uncertainly on your feet beside Logan, glancing up and down the sidewalk like your father’s going to pop out of an alleyway. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

Logan tugs his cigar out of his mouth. He’s leaned up against a lamppost and he’s watched you struggle for the past ten minutes. “Live a little kid, would ya?”

You look back at the dingy bar and grimace. “Okay, there’s a difference between living a little and having my face blasted on the news. How’s it going to look if I’m photographed at a bar while I’m meant to be healing?”

Logan points with his cigar to the entrance of the bar. “I can promise you, no one in there gives a fuck about who your daddy is.” Comforting, and a little humbling.

You take in a deep breath and Logan must sense the change in your demeanor. He flicks the cigar to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He holds his arm out, “Ready, kid?”

You nod, hurrying to his side and slipping under his grasp. He lets his arm hang heavily around your shoulder, hand squeezing your bicep gently to try and quell your nerves. You’d be swooning at the touch if you weren’t about to throw up from anxiety.

You used to have a life. Until your father had blown it up. You haven’t been around this many people in ages. Well, you haven’t been around people who are just having fun and not sucking up to every politician’s kid they meet.

The music gets louder as you step over through the threshold of the bar. The soles of your shoes stick to the floor. People laugh loudly all around you, some of them shouting up at TV screens for whatever sport is currently playing. You’re sure half of them don’t even normally watch the game. They just need an excuse to get their wives off their backs.

The thought brings a small smile to your lips. Logan glances down at you and frowns, “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and move out from under his hold. “Yes, Logan. I’m going into a master’s program, my frontal lobe is fully formed.”

He huffs a little at the attitude, cheeks twitching with a suppressed smile. He nods towards the back of the bar, “Find a seat, I’ll get us drinks.” He walks towards the bar without another word and you resent him a little for it.

Without him beside you, it’s like everything comes crashing down all at once. The songs playing grate on your ears. Every laugh feels like they’re screaming in your face. You’ve never been more in tune with your sense of smell and you hate it.

Your hands tremble by your sides and you nearly miss the man in front of you spilling his beer down his shirt. It looks completely unnatural, the way it just flips out of his hand. And you know it’s your doing.

You shove through him and his friends, running to the back and sliding into the first booth you see. You dig your nails into your palms, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate down a bit.

Logan slides into the seat across from you, placing a beer in front of you. It’s barely touched the grimy wood of the table before you tip your head back and drain it. You’ve never been a particular fan of beer or any alcohol for that matter.

But right now you need a buzz before you accidentally level the whole bar. You slam the bottle back on the table, taking in a deep breath, and sitting back. Logan gives you a hard stare, glancing between you and the empty bottle.

He clicks his tongue and stands up, “I’ll go get another one.”

You bite your lip and give him a sheepish, “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take long for the buzz to settle in. There’s a slight tingling in your legs and the tips of your fingers. It almost feels like how you get when you’re starting to get aroused. But you don’t know if that’s from the alcohol or the way Logan looks in his slutty little t-shirt.

Definitely tipsy, you think to yourself, nudging your third beer to the side.

“Always been a lightweight?” He teases, watching you with amusement in his gaze while he works on what must be his fifth whiskey.

You shake your head with a soft smile. “No, I used to go out with my friends all the time.” You laugh a little at the memories and lean in a little closer like you’re sharing some horrible secret. Logan rolls his eyes but acquiesces, leaning in to listen to you speak. “We made up alter egos for our drunk selves. Wanna know mine?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows at him with a stupid grin.

His brows pinch together and he frowns, “I don’t think so.”

You laugh and lean back in your seat. “You’re the worst!” He places his glass down on the table and fixes you with an odd look. You shift around uncomfortably, “What is it?”

“What happened to your friends? Why are you hanging out with me and not them?”

“Oh,” your gaze drops to the table and you suddenly find the stains on it very interesting. It’s practically abstract art. You swallow harshly around the lump in your throat and shrug. “Um, just all the stuff with my dad happened, and,” you shrug, “I don’t know. My life kind of fell apart.”

You try and shake off the funk, bring back the happy-go-lucky feeling you were in only minutes ago. “I had to move out of the dorms and head back home. My friends stopped talking to me. My boyfriend dumped me. It all just kind of blew up.”

Logan frowns and you swear he seems angry on your behalf. It’s a nice feeling, having someone care enough to hold a grudge for you. “You ever tell him how it was all affecting you?”

You snort, “Of course I did. He was overjoyed. He never liked my friends, especially not my boyfriend, they encouraged me to be too independent. He thought I was losing the values he raised me with. He just never cared to learn that I never agreed with them in the first place.”

Logan doesn’t say anything for a while and you let your gaze drift to the karaoke stage. Two women are singing a bad redemption of Led Zeppelin and it makes you smile. You don’t see the way Logan’s eyes linger on the curve of your lips and then drop to your chest.

You never seem to notice how you make him squirm. There is something so interesting about you. Something so different from the families he worked with before. He doesn’t know if it's the whole mutant thing, if you two are somehow kindred spirits in that regard. He doubts it, he’s never really cared much about that.

But he knows that there is something magnetic about you. It draws him in and makes him hate his own rules. He promised not to get involved with another client. It always ends messy, most times bloody.

You turn back to him and smile. Your voice is a low purr as you ask, “You wanna get out of here?”

Of course, he’s never been one to follow the rules.

“I am so sorry about this. Really.”

Logan glares down at you while you straighten out his tie. You duck your head so you don’t have to meet his gaze and he lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Forget it, kid.” He says it with a smirk but it doesn’t make you feel any less guilty.

This will be your first public appearance since the incident. It’s a gala, of course, because your father hates you. He’d demanded you find a date, someone to look pretty on your arm because he doesn’t want you talking while you’re there. You’re meant for pictures and nothing more.

Considering the fact that no one wants to talk to you on campus, the acid incident not helping at all, you had no luck finding a date. You’d had to beg on hands and knees for days to get Logan to agree.

You don’t know what it is that finally made him cave but you’re grateful for it. You think your father was expecting you to fail. To come crawling to him and be forced to go with who he wanted you to go with.

You were not going to spend the whole night listening to some political major try and explain your own father’s campaign to you. You’d rather swallow acid than go through that for another night. Your father, of course, doesn’t know that Logan is taking you.

You’re planning on ambushing him with it. He can’t do anything about it now. He wants you to have a date for some reason and there’s no way for him to find a backup now. You take a step back from him and turn to look in the mirror.

Side by side, you do make an incredibly attractive couple. He looks amazing in his suit, his muscles just slightly pushing against the fabric. And as much as he hates the tie and constricting material, he makes it work.

And you feel pretty for the first time in a long time. You actually got to do your own hair and makeup for once. You’re a lot less heavy-handed than the assistants your father hires. You feel comfortable in your own skin, finally, wearing the deep red dress your stepmother had gotten for you.

“We look good,” you muse.

Logan looks down at you and smiles slightly, “You do.”

You give him a confused grin, “I said we.”

He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I know what you said, sweetheart.” Your heart nearly beats out of your chest at the proximity. Gooseflesh raises on your arms where he’s touching you and your knee buckles ever so slightly.

You can perfectly imagine his husky voice whispering something much, much dirtier to you. He pulls back with a slight chuckle and forcefully turns you around. “Come on, kid, we’re gonna be late.”

He nudges you towards your bedroom door and you nod your head mutely. He keeps doing that to you. These little things that could be so easily dismissed as you reading into his actions. But you know, deep down, you’re not reading into anything.

But you don’t know what to do with this information that he might possibly be into you. Or at the very least, attracted to you. He made it clear early on that he wants nothing but professionalism between the two of you, yet he continually breaks his own rule.

Your father and stepmother are waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you both. Your stepmother smiles when she sees you but your father’s face screws up in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? The goddamn bodyguard?”

You shrug and slip past him, already walking to the front door. “A date’s a date.” You pause and grin over at him, “What are you going to do about it?” It’s a taunt, one you don’t give him a chance to respond to.

You’re already slipping outside and heading to the town car. Something about Logan being with you emboldens you to act in ways you never would. Even when he’s not there, when you’re just having family dinner and your father says something off-putting. You fight back, you don’t let him steamroll you and your opinions.

You feel better than you have in ages with Logan beside you. Still, the ride there is incredibly awkward.

The hotel is grand and luxurious. But they all are. You feel guilty complaining about your life when this is your weekend. What do you have to be upset about when you regularly stay in five-star motels and wear designer dresses without glancing at the price tag?

Sometimes you feel guilty around Logan. You wonder if he ever resents you for your privilege. You might be a mutant like him, sure, but you’ve never had to struggle to make ends meet. Or try and scrap together enough money to get your next meal. You’ve never had to worry about where you’re going to sleep next or if you’ll have a roof over your head.

Your struggles have been so different that you worry if something ever did happen between the two of you, you might not work together.

But those are spiraling thoughts for another time. Right now, you’re just trying to get through the front door without someone bombarding your father with questions on his stance about whatever.

When it’s clear that he’s going to be there for a while, he sends you and Logan off to the ballroom on your own. You feel bad for your stepmother, having to stay behind and pretend she’s interested as they bore her with stories that have no real meaning.

“Poor woman,” you mutter, watching her struggle to keep the smile on her face.

“You don’t call her mom,” Logan muses. You turn to look at him and he just shrugs. “Just a little weird.”

“Well, she’s not my mom.” His head tilts in confusion and you elaborate. “My bio mom left the second she figured out she gave birth to a mutant. We lie to the public, stepmom’s interfere with the perfect nuclear family ideal my dad’s pushing for.”

“If he cares so much about family then why don’t you have your dad’s last name?” A good question, one you had to field a lot when you first started school.

You give him a sly grin, “Took my mom's maiden name the second I was eighteen, just to piss him off.” There’s no true reason behind it other than being vindictive and petty. “He’s been trying to get me to change it for years but he can’t force me to. Besides, I like having my name separate from theirs. Lets me pretend I’m not a part of the family. Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all, we just never really had the chance to bond.”

Someone passes by you. A couple you know you’re supposed to recognize but you can’t place their names. The man calls out your name, coming toward you with his arms open wide. You can see Logan tense up slightly beside you, bodyguard instincts coming out for a moment.

You squeeze his hand briefly before stepping forward to hug the man. “So nice to see you, again.” You tell him. He grins and squeezes you a little closer to his chest than necessary.

Logan clears his throat, glaring at the man’s drifting hands. Before either of you can react, Logan is pulling you back, hand resting lightly over the small of your back. He holds his hand out, forcing the man to shake his hand and take his attention off of you.

You can’t hold back the smile on your lips when you see how much smaller the man is under Logan’s intense stare. You’ve gotten used to the men at these events treating you however they want. They don’t see you as a human, you are your father’s accessory and their toy. You envy Logan for how easily he can dismiss these men, take away their larger-than-life personalities, and reduce them to the sniveling rats they truly are.

He doesn’t even speak, simply tugs you towards the ballroom and away from the man’s wandering hands. You can’t help the stupid smile on your face while you look at him. He glances out the side of his eye and huffs, “What?” He snaps, tone impatient.

You shrug and shake your head. “Nothing, you’re just…” You trail off, unsure how to continue. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable by telling him how you really feel about him. How deeply you appreciate him, how horribly you desire him. You’re afraid it will all just blow up in your face. That you’ll have truly been reading into everything and gotten his intentions all wrong. After all, he’s made it abundantly clear that there’s meant to be nothing between the two of you except a paycheck.

You take in a deep breath, smile faltering, “Nothing.” You finally spit out, slipping out of his grasp and walking quicker towards the doors. His hand lingers on your back, fingers trailing slowly down your spine until you’re completely out of his reach.

The chatter inside gets louder the closer you get to the entrance. You listen to the indiscernible voices, the quartet playing in the corner, and the clink of metal on the glass as they all eat. You straighten out your shoulders and put on your best smile, mentally preparing yourself to keep it stiff on your cheeks for the rest of the night.

Logan catches up to you, the both of you stopping the second you see the inside of the ballroom.

People Against Mutants

Evolution or Monstrosities

Parents for the Removal of Mutant Children

Your eyes widen as you take in the banners and signs hanging off the walls. More and more uncreative rhetoric all for the annihilation of mutants. Of people like you and Logan. Your smile drops immediately and you know you should have expected something like this from your father. He’d been refusing to tell you what this gala was for, saying offhandly he was just raising some money.

You thought it was another charity. Not this. Not people, quite literally, calling for your head. For Logan’s head. You suck in a sharp breath and glance towards the silent man beside you. His jaw is clenched as he takes in all the finely dressed people around you. They’re all laughing and chatting like they’re not actively campaigning for the destruction of children.

“Bar?” You ask, already walking towards it.

“Sounds good to me.” His hand is on your back again and you’re grateful for it. The glower on his face, the attitude that screams I don’t belong here keeps people away from you. He shoulders through the men huddling around the bar, forcefully clearing space for the two of you.

And when they turn around, posturing like they’re going to say something, he only has to look at them for them to retreat with their tails tucked. It’s ridiculously attractive seeing someone command these men so easily.

“Whiskey,” Logan grumbles, he looks back at you and you slide beside him, leaning your elbows against the cool counter.

“Just champagne, please,” you tell the bartender. He nods, quickly making your drinks and handing them to you. You turn with the flute in your hand, surveying the room. It feels less like a gala and more like a production of false niceties that will never end and never be genuine.

“Don’t know how you deal with these fuckers all the time,” Logan mutters, glaring as a man slams into him and keeps walking without apologizing.

You let out a short huff of laughter, “Honestly,” he glances over at you and you shrug. “I’ve got no fucking clue either.” He scoffs and takes a swig from his glass. But you can’t take your eyes off of him. You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, weighing you down until you feel like you have no choice but to spit them out.

“You,” his brows quirk up and he glances over at you. You take in a deep breath and start over, nerves making your palms sweaty around the glass. “You make it bearable.”

Logan’s face falls and he sucks in a deep breath. You see the expression on his face, you know what he’s going to tell you. And you hate how apologetic he looks. You especially despise the way he’s making you feel pitied. He’s never done that before and you don’t want him to start now.

“Don’t,” you tell him before he can say anything. You let out a self-deprecating laugh and place the champagne flute on the bar so you don’t have to look at him. “I know what you’re going to say, alright. So, just, don’t.”

Logan purses his lips and grabs your jaw. You try and jerk your face out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you, he forces you to look at him. He only lets go once you reluctantly make eye contact. You’re surprised by the look on his face. There’s no pity in his gaze like you’d expected.

This is something else, something darker and more twisted. You can’t put your finger on what exactly you’re seeing but you know it makes your heart race and your thighs clench. “Listen, sweetheart, I-”

“What the hell are you doing?” You jump away from him but Logan just clenches his eyes shut with a short huff of irritated breath. You clear your throat and turn to face your father. He’s glaring between you and Logan, but smiles warmly anytime someone looks your way. “I didn’t bring you here so my contributors could see what a fucking whore you are for the help.”

“Dad!” You exclaim, eyes widening in horror. But Logan doesn’t seem bothered by your father’s words. If anything it seems to incense him, his hand drifting from your jaw to drape itself over the nape of your neck. You try not to show just how much the possessive grip is affecting you but you know they can both tell.

Your father’s face pinches and he nearly stomps his foot as he looks between you and Logan. He looks like he wants to say something else but your stepmother, thankfully, calls his name. She waves him over towards her and you hold your breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do.

He takes in short puffs of air, straightening out his suit jacket and glaring at you. “You’re not going to be a fucking wallflower all night, got it?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s stomping off. He calls out a warm greeting to someone across the room and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

You give Logan a tired smile and nod towards the rest of the party. “Time to mingle.”

He laughs, loudly, enough to make people’s heads turn. You can feel your skin heating up from embarrassment and flinch away from the sound. “Sorry, kid, mingling ain’t part of my contract.”

Your jaw drops as you glare at him. “Are you serious?”

He turns back to the bar, flagging down the bartender for a refill. “Deadly,” he tells you firmly, barely looking at you. You roll your eyes and walk away from him, glaring at his back the whole time you do so.

He thought coming to one of these things, being stuffed in a scratchy suit, would be his worst nightmare. He was proven wrong when he heard them talking to each other. Bitching about golf and their mistresses wanting more attention. Their kids nagging them and their wives being bitches.

All of it made him want to down a whole bottle of whiskey and then blow his brains out. His worst nightmare turned into ever having to hold a conversation with one of these pricks.

Then, he turns around, surveying the room for wherever you were lurking. He expects you to be by your father’s side or hiding somewhere in a corner. Instead, you’re standing close -extremely close - to some pretty boy.

His hand is on your waist and you’re laughing at whatever boring fucking story he’s telling you. Logan tries to pick up on your conversation but there are too many things happening at once already. His senses are on overdrive and he’s already struggling against a migraine.

He feels something brewing in his gut, something he’s been trying to just shove down for months. He doesn’t know what it is he hates about this picture but it makes him sick to his stomach. He hears something crack and looks down to find the glass of whiskey split on one side.

“Shit,” he hisses, slamming the glass on the bar behind him. He shakes his hand out and tries to unclench his fists but it’s hard. He couldn’t have possibly been standing here long enough for you to suddenly find the love of your life. Why the fuck are the two of you so close?

This was so unlike you. Rarely did you ever have something good to say about the men you would encounter at these things. He’d heard you bitch about it enough times. Something about this isn’t adding up and he doesn’t know if it’s his own jealousy or intuition.

Still, he finds himself pushing away from the bar and stalking towards you both. Closer, he can finally see what the problem is. Your hands are on the guy's chest but you aren’t leaning against him, you’re actively trying to push him away.

It makes Logan’s blood boil, jaw clenching as he tries to keep himself at bay. He didn’t want to cave some kid’s head in in the middle of the gala. But the closer he got the clearer he could hear your hissed warnings to take his hands off of you.

Logan finally reaches you and the look of sheer relief on your face makes him want to bring the claws out. He’d love to see that smug smirk ripped off his face, but he holds back. If only so he doesn’t traumatize you.

“Alright, bub, hands off,” he warns.

“Why don’t you just leave us alone?” He had to give it to the kid, he’s got balls. Rarely did anyone ever buck up to him like this. Normally, he might entertain him a bit, drag this on longer than necessary to get a kick out of it.

But he still hasn’t taken his hands off of you and Logan’s not interested in fucking around tonight. Without a word, he grabs the kid by the collar of his jacket and tosses him away from you.

He lands roughly on the floor with a loud gasp and people turn to look. Logan pays no mind to the onlookers. He places his hand on your back and leads you out of the ballroom, unwilling to have eyes on you for the rest of this conversation.

“Logan,” you start, tone nervous.

“Don’t,” he snaps. He regrets it immediately from the way you jump in surprise. He lets out a rough sigh, running his hand down his face, and walks through the first door he finds. “I’m sorry, kid, I just-”

“Logan,” you cut him off. The tone of your voice is enough to get him to finally look at you. Your arms are crossed and you’re glaring at him. “Why the fuck did you drag us into a closet?”

His brows furrow in confusion and he glances around, finally realizing what he walked into, “Fuck,” he hisses. He gropes blindly around the room for a light switch. There’s a small click and then an unflattering fluorescent light is shining down on you both. He’s managed to drag you both into a small, incredibly cramped, cleaning closet.

You’re grimacing as you push a few mops away from your head. You look over at him and something about the look on his face must be funny because you start to laugh. “What were you thinking?”

Your smile makes one curl up on his own lips. He can’t help it, something about you eases a bit of the tightness constantly lurking inside him. “Thought it was one of those stuffy conference rooms.”

You scoff and reach for the handle, “Just a stuffy closest, good going, Logan.” You roll your eyes and tug on the knob. Your brows furrow together as you jiggle the handle every which way, desperately pulling on it.

“Move over,” Logan mutters, nudging you to the side. He wraps his hand around the handle and yanks on it, expecting the door to swing open. When it doesn’t his face falls.

“Did you miraculously unlock it, genius?” You demand sarcastically. Logan feels his shoulders tense up, frustration levels steadily rising. He’s already got a shit temper, he doesn’t need you adding to this.

“No,” he snipes, “but I don’t see you coming up with any wonderful solutions.”

You throw your hands up in the air, wincing when your elbow collides with the shelving unit behind you. “I didn’t drag us into this mess! Why did you even come in here?” You demand and he can see how angry you are.

It shows in the way you tapped your heeled feet against the floor and glower at him like he’s the bane of your existence. He doesn’t know what happens, what comes over him, or why this is the moment he chooses to break his rule.

Your back slams into the shelves behind you and you gasp as he surges towards you. His hands come up to cup your cheeks and before you get a chance to question him, his mouth is covering your own. Logan buries his hand in your hair, ruining the perfectly styled curls. You don’t seem to mind much if the way you arch into him is anything to go by.

His tongue runs across the seam of your lips, tasting the cherry-flavored gloss you’d applied earlier. He wants to devour you. Consume you body and soul, take everything you have to give, and then keep going. He doesn’t want to stop, but he’s not sure he wants the first place you have sex to be in a janitor’s closet.

He pulls back, tugging you back when you try to chase his lips with your own. “Shouldn’t do this here,” he mutters. He’s struggling to hold back. And when you look up at him, lips swollen from his kiss, and you mutter why, how is he meant to resist?

He tugs you away from the shelves, pushing you against the door so he doesn’t have to see your face twist up in pain every time the corner digs into your lower back. Your hands drop down to his belt, lips desperately carving a path down his neck.

He’d laugh at your eagerness if he wasn’t just as desperate for you. He reaches for the hem of your dress but it’s one of those floor-length gowns with no slits. He struggled for a minute before getting too impatient and just muttering, “Fuck it.”

You gasp when you feel the metal of his claw against your leg, eyes dropping down to watch as he makes himself a slit. He slices the fabric along your thigh and then just rips it. “Logan,” you hiss as he hikes the silk over your hips.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” You glare at him, eyes darting between him and his pants before you finally shake your head. He laughs slightly, hand drifting under your dress and reveling in the way you shiver under his touch. “Yeah,” he whispers, “that’s what I thought.”

His fingers move gently along your thighs, easing you into his touch. You let out breathy whimpers, tucking your face in his neck the closer he gets to your core. He lets his hand drift lower, searching out the band of your underwear.

He’s pleasantly surprised when he’s met with nothing but you dripping for him. “Shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?”

You freeze and keep your face stubbornly buried in his neck. Logan laughs slightly, tugging you back and forcing you to look up at him. You mumble something under your breath. It’s said so quickly he can barely understand you. “What was that?”

“Ugh, god, Logan.” You groan and let your eyes drop down to his shirt, fiddling with the end of his tie. “I was hoping this would happen.”

When he doesn’t say anything your face shifts, worry gnawing away at you. You glance up at him and are surprised by the intensity of his gaze. He’s staring down at you like he wants to eat you whole. His pupils have consumed all the color of his eyes, there’s nothing but want on his face.

“You wanna know why I agreed to come with you, kid?”

Your mind is completely dulled just by being this close to him. It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying before you nod your head. “Why?”

The look on his face reminds you of a wolf guarding its territory. It’s predatorial, animalistic, it makes you want him even more. “I didn’t want any of these little boys getting a chance to have their hands on you.” His gaze drops down to your lips and he leans in until your breaths are mingling together.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He dips his head down and his kiss isn’t as intense as it was the first time. His lips move lazily over your own, tongue stroking against yours like he’s savoring the taste.

You can taste the whiskey he’d drank earlier, can still smell cigars on his breath. It should be revolting, you’ve never liked kissing smokers. But there is something so intoxicating about him. Everything he does is enchanting to you.

It’s a naive train of thought but you trust him wholly. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him willingly. His hands continue their exploration down your body and you can’t help but arch into his touch. His fingers stroke languidly over your center and you moan into his mouth.

Your lips part with little gasps and your head thunks loudly against the door. Neither of you notice or care, you’ve all but forgotten the gala outside. The government employees and rich socialites that you’re supposed to be entertaining.

And when he slips a finger inside you, you don’t care who hears you call out his name. The rough pad of his finger creates a feeling you’ve never been able to produce on your own. There’s something so exhilarating about this whole situation.

Stuck in this tiny closet, no air to breathe but each other’s. No room for anything other than your bodies pressed as closely together as possible. You're completely surrounded by him and you never want to leave.

“Logan,” you gasp out his name and shove at his shoulders. He momentarily stops his ministrations, giving you a worried look. “Please, I just want you.” You tug at his wrist, hissing when his fingers leave you with a lewd pop.

He looks hesitant, but you can see the way he’s straining against his boxers. You let your hand trail down his stomach, palming him through the thin fabric. His hips buck into your hands and he lets out the most attractive noise you’ve ever heard. You’ve always liked guys who aren’t afraid to be vocal.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers. He swats your hands to the sides, tugging his boxers down and squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise. “Come on, up.”

You jump and he slings your legs around his waist, lining himself up with your entrance. He drags you slowly down his cock, resting your back against the door and giving a hesitant thrust inside you.

You can’t help the low groan that leaves your parted lips. It’s like you’re full of nothing but him. You’d been mentally prepared for the stretch he would present, but you probably should have given him more time to warn you up.

You don’t care though, this is all you’ve been craving for months. To feel nothing, taste nothing but him. You’ve been praying that he feels the same way you do, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he does.

He looks completely wrecked, head resting on your shoulder while you both take a breath. It’s overwhelming, this feeling of finally having what you’ve always wanted. Someone you can give yourself to completely and still feel safe with them.

You drag your hand up his back, burying it in his hair and reveling in how soft it is. You tug him back by the roots, tilting his neck until he’s forced to look at you. Your gaze drops to his reddened lips and you smile at the gloss you’ve smeared across his chin.

“Come on, Logan, don’t tell me you’re all talk.”

His eyes narrow but you can see the amusement swimming within them. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Oh, yeah?” You goad, grinding your hips down against his and biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You’re trying not to make a noise, trying to make sure he doesn’t see just how much he’s affecting you. But you can already feel your orgasm forming, it’s a low tingle in the tips of your toes, a burning hot desire rushing through your thighs as you clench around him.

“Yeah,” he promises, thrusting sharply into you. This time the moan is forced out of you, your lips parting unbidden as you slump over him, burying your face in his neck. He doesn’t waste any time, using your hips as handles to pump you over his cock like you’re nothing more than a toy.

The door rattles behind you, each thrust of his hips makes it shake in its frame. His hands fist the back of your dress, grip so tight you think it might tear. You don’t care. He could rip it off of you and you’d walk outside naked right now.

You don’t care what happens, not when he’s beside you. There’s a feeling of security that comes from being around Logan and you can feel it in this moment. You trust him to take care of you in every way.

Maybe you shouldn’t. After all, you two haven’t known each other long. But there’s not much you’re worried about when he’s moving steadily inside you. You can taste the desperation you share for each other in each pump of his hips.

He whispers it into your ear while you claw at his back. The shelves around you shake and you worry you might bring them down if you can’t rope yourself in. But you can feel the wave building in the back of your throat, your vision blurring as you tighten your legs around his waist and begin to match his rhythm.

“There you go,” he mutters, pinning you to the door and keeping your hips still while he moves inside you. “Come on, I can feel you clenching around me, sweetheart.” He manages to hold you up with one hand, the other diving between your legs to rub tight circles around your bundle of nerves.

It doesn’t take much longer for your muscles to seize up, back bowing as you clench desperately around him. “Oh, fuck, Logan,” you shout his name, and his hand quickly comes up to smother your cries. He squeezes your cheeks until your eyes snap open and he drags you down to meet his gaze.

“Don’t want to lose my job, need you to be quiet for me,” he grunts out, his tone breathy and strained. He loses his rhythm, movements speeding up erratically while he lets out low groans and whispers of your name. You almost cum again when he finally finishes inside you.

Your limbs are twitching in overstimulation by the time his hips still. You feel completely boneless, body slumped lazily in his arms. He wraps both arms around you, squeezing you a little before slowly lifting you off of him.

It’s a relief of pressure when he pulls out. His cum leaks out of you, dribbling down your thighs and dripping onto the floor of the closest. Your face screws up at the feeling and you internally cringe. No condom was probably a stupid call.

But you don’t really want to think about the repercussions right now. Not when he’s stroking your hair and rubbing a soothing hand down your back, waiting until you can form a coherent sentence before he lets you go. “Alright?” He asks, voice bordering on something smug.

“Mhm,” you push away from him, legs shaky as you try and straighten out your dress. It’s a loss cause, trying to hide what happened in here at all. You’ve got a tear going up to your hip and you’re pretty sure there are holes in the back. Logan’s tie is gone and you don’t even remember taking that off. His shirt is completely wrinkled and your lip gloss has stained his face.

You’ve both got horrific sex hair and the room reeks of it. You don’t know how you're going to sneak out of here. You still try and relax your hair, patting down the flyaways while Logan retucks his shirt.

It’s silent between the two of you, heavy but not awkward. You don’t think either of you knows what to say now that you’ve physically acted on what you want. A sudden thought hits you, makes your heart clench painfully and your tongue ties up in your mouth.

He’d confirmed that he wanted your body. That he desired you sexually. But you don’t think he actually said anything about a real relationship. There would be problems, of course, your father for one would have a lot to say about it. But you don’t care about that. You don’t care about any of the consequences, you just want to be with him.

You open your mouth to ask him what he wants when the door swings open. Both you and Logan whip towards it. But where you look like a deer caught in the headlights he looks like the epitome of male pride.

Especially when he realizes it's your father on the other side. “Dad-” You start, but you have no idea what you could even say. Your dress is in tatters and both you and Logan are still mussed up. There’s no hiding what happened here.

He doesn’t let you finish, holding up his hand. His voice is eerily calm as he says, “I thought I heard something banging around in here.”

“You did,” Logan scoffs, crossing his arms and glaring at your father. You feel your heart jump to your throat, staring over at him with a horrified look on your face. How could he think that was okay to say? It was so dismissive of what you believed had happened.

This was more than just a quickie in the dark to you. This meant something, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that it was the same for him as it was for you. And that just makes you feel like the stupid little girl everyone seems to believe you are.

Your father says your name but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye. “You’re feeling sick,” he tells you, no room for argument. “Your date had to take you home. It was just too much too soon after the incident at the rally.” When you don’t say anything he shouts out, “Understood?” That makes you jump.

“Yes,” you clear your throat and face him. “Yes, understood.”

Your father has made his stance on mutants clear. He hates them, despises them to their very being, and wishes he could kill every last one. And as much as you were raised with those ideas, they were never truly turned on you.

But he’s looking at you right now like he wishes you were never born. You feel like shit on his shoe. Something to be hidden away and buried. It makes your shoulders slump like a hundred pounds was just tossed onto your back.

You try to run past him but he jerks you back, fingers so tight around your bicep you feel the skin tear. You gasp in pain but don’t say anything, too afraid to argue. “Put his jacket on, I won’t have you looking like a whore.” He releases you with a rough shove and storms off.

You can feel something burning at the back of your eyes. A moment later Logan drops his jacket over your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest and running his hands over your arms. “Come on, kid,” he mutters. There’s something resigned in his voice that makes your heart drop, “Let’s get you home.”

The walk through the lobby feels like you’re walking through a dream. You’re not completely present for it, or the ride home. Your mind and your heart are warring and you feel like you’re going to be torn apart if you keep lingering on what just happened.

You just can’t understand how you could go from having everything you wanted to feeling like the scum of the earth in less than two minutes. Logan doesn’t speak as he drives you home. His knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel and you’re afraid to even try and start a conversation.

You don’t want to hear him tell you that he didn’t desire you past your body. You don’t want to discover that you’re just another notch on his belt. He seems to do this a lot, sleep with the girls he guards. The idea of just being another job, another fun night, makes you absolutely disgusted with yourself.

When he pulls into the driveway of your house you both just sit in the car. Neither of you knows what to say. And the air between you is so thick with tension you feel like you could choke on it. You stare down at your hands, fingers fiddling with the ripped seams of your dress.

You pick at the threads and feel his stare on you. You can’t do this. You can’t deal with the possibility of rejection. Not after what happened between you and certainly not after what your father said.

You undo your seat belt and Logan watches as you go through the movements of getting up. His eyes never leave you and it’s like a physical caress, his stare. Normally it would make you warm inside, comforted by his presence. But right now all you can feel is the chill of where his cum has dried between your legs and the icy-hot stab of nausea in your gut.

You throw the door open and you’re nearly out when he calls out a quiet, “Goodnight.”

You don’t look at him, you can’t. You slam the door shut and walk silently to the front door of your house. You don’t look back, don’t respond, you just slip inside your house and finally let the weight of the night come crashing down on you.

You don’t cry until you hear him pull out of the driveway.

Your father and stepmother usually stay at the hotel the night of a gala. Most nights you come home and enjoy the house to yourself for once. Tonight, you’re woken up by the front door slamming so hard your walls shake.

You can faintly hear your stepmother’s voice trying to console your father. She’s muttering something to him you can’t make out. You shoot out of bed, running to pull some sweatpants on. After you’d cried yourself out you’d taken a shower.

You’ve scrubbed your skin raw but you swear you can still smell him on you. You rush to your bedroom door, turning the knob quietly and slowly peeking your head outside. Your father’s at the bottom of the stairs, the second he spots your open door he’s screaming your name.

Your stomach twists painfully and you can feel panic starting to overwhelm you. Your hands shake and your legs are stiff as you slowly step into the hallway. You’re a grown woman. You shouldn’t feel like this because your dad is going to yell at you.

But he’s been so good at forcing you to rely on him. At forcing you to bend and break to fit his beliefs and mold. You don’t know what to do if you’re not striving for his approval. And right now it’s very clear that he’s never been more disgusted by you.

If the look on his face isn’t enough to twist the knife deeper, his words are. “I have never,” he screams at you. You take a step back, keeping the stairs between you, refusing to meet him in the middle. “Been more embarrassed to call you my daughter. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me? Do you know how many people saw you being dragged outside like a fucking whore off the corner?”

You clench your eyes shut, turning your face away from him as the shame becomes a physical thing inside you. You can feel it making its way up your throat. Because he’s right. Tonight you were nothing more than a slut without any self-respect.

But you’re also pissed off. You’re fucking enraged at yourself for being so stupid as to ever believe Logan wanted you for anything more than your body. You're mad at Logan for knowing how you feel about him and taking advantage of it. And you’re so fucking tired of doing everything you can to make your father proud and it never being enough.

“Have you ever once asked me what I want?” You raise your voice, screaming down at him with a ferocity that surprises even you. His eyes widen, frame trembling with unreleased rage. You plow through, not stopping because you know if you do, you’ll never get this out. “No, you haven’t. Not once. Because you don’t fucking love me! And it has taken me years to accept that, to finally realize that you’re incapable of loving anyone but yourself.”

You gasp, the noise wet and painful as something warm trickles down your cheek. You stare down at him with your eyes wide in realization. “It’s so clear to me now, I feel like an idiot for missing it for so long. You never loved me. You’re incapable of it!”

You’re embarrassed at the way your voice cracks. As much as you want to pretend you’re stronger than him, not afraid of him. There’s still a little girl inside you who wonders why Daddy doesn’t love you.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you want, Dad. I don’t care what you want my life to look like or if I embarrassed you. I’m glad I did, glad someone finally saw a sliver of the truth you try so desperately to hide-”

“Enough!” He shouts and it startles you so bad that you jump back, your abilities reacting and a vase behind you flying off the shelf. You duck as glass shatters across the stairs and floor. You glance at the scene with shocked eyes, looking down at your father to see that he’s not even a little bit surprised.

Instead, he just looks so deeply disappointed that it makes you shrink into yourself. The anger within you is extinguished in a second. He rubs his face, shaking his head and turning his back on you. “Dad?” You call out, voice trembling.

“Go to your room,” he tells you quietly. “I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You hover by the top of the stairs for a moment, not quite believing him yet. And when he realizes you're still there, that you’re not taking him seriously, he finally looks at you again.

“I wish every goddamn day that those doctors had just put you down. I’d rather have a dead daughter than one like you.”

You stand there, stunned, even after the rest of the house has gone to bed. You clean up the pieces of glass while you try and swallow down your tears. Let the sharp edges dig into your skin and tear until you can feel any type of pain besides the one inside you.

A week of solitary confinement. You’re surprised that you haven’t just been kicked out of college. You’re sure that your father’s many donations to the university are the only thing stopping your professors from dropping you from the class.

You don’t care if they do or not, though. You never actually care about what you studied. You’d just always hoped that it would be a way for you to escape the tight grip around your neck your dad has on you.

You’ve figured out that no matter how hard you fight, you’ll never escape him. He hates you and yet, he can’t let you go. You’d laugh if you weren’t busy wallowing in your depression.

Someone keeps leaving food by your door but you can’t find it in yourself to be hungry. You’ll nibble on something, but you feel like you’re going to throw up when you so much as breathe the wrong way.

You haven’t heard from Logan since that night. You knew your father would fire him the second he woke up. But you’d held out hope - foolishly - that he might still try and reach out to you. You have this childish image in your head of the prince coming to rescue the princess from the dragon.

But you’ve been naive your whole life, you don’t want to keep going down this road. You don’t want to keep expecting the best of people and live your life in perpetual disappointment.

You haven’t seen or spoken to your father since that night. Wordlessly, he’d banned you to your room. No one’s said it, but you know you’re not allowed to come out. You don’t know when he’s going to deem you useful again and drag you back out into the public eye.

Contrary to his belief, no one had seen you leave that night with Logan. You hadn’t been in any tabloids or shitty news articles. Besides emotional estrangement from your father and losing the only guy you’ve ever really liked, there were no consequences to your whorish behavior - as your father so lovingly puts it.

You roll over in your bed and picture yourself taking a shower. It feels like such a workout but you can’t stand lying in your sweat and tears for much longer. With a long drawn-out groan, you throw yourself out of bed and enter the bathroom connected to your room.

You know you’ll feel better afterward, but everything besides sleep sounds like too much work. Still, you force yourself inside and finally clean the grime of laying on your ass for a week off.

You walk naked through your room, making a beeline for your dresser. You feel a little better after washing yourself off and moisturizing. But not much. Physical health can only do so much for how you feel inside.

You hope this will blow over soon, you’re not sure how much longer you can take feeling so awful. You hate pitying yourself, and that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You huff irritatedly, digging around your drawers for your favorite shirt.

A hand clamps around your mouth, rough and big, yanking you back into a muscled chest and keeping you quiet. You still try and scream, hands clawing at the skin of their hand until you feel blood.

“Fuck, quit that, would ya?”

Your erratic movements slowly come to a halt. You still feel your heart pounding against your chest, adrenaline warming your blood and making you feel like you're on fire from the inside out. But, you recognize the voice, recognize there’s no danger to the situation.

That doesn’t make you any less pissed off. When Logan is sure you won’t keep attacking him, he lets you go slowly. You immediately whirl around on him, uncaring that you’re still naked. Energy moves quickly through you, becoming a physical thing under your skin.

He smiles at you and you push the energy out, throwing him across your room. He flies into your bookshelf, crashing to the ground with a loud slam. “What the fuck are you doing?” You scream at him.

There’s no one home right now, luckily, or else you both would be screwed. He shakes his head off, brushing pieces of wood out of his hair and slowly getting to his feet. “Well, I was coming to say hi-”

“You say hi by ambushing naked girls?” You interrupt, grabbing the clothes closest to you and pulling them on quickly.

Logan rolls his neck out and shrugs. “No, that was just a plus,” he gives you that insufferable smirk and you want to scream.

This is the first time you see him in a week since you had sex together and your father officially disowned you. And this is what he’s leading with? Seriously? “You’re a real fucking prince, Logan.” You shake your head with a scoff and glare at him.

He narrows his eyes, looking to be in disbelief at your attitude. “What happened?” You expect to hear irritation in his tone. Anger that you’re being such a bitch right now. Instead, he sounds concerned, like he can see right through you.

You hate that. You used to love having someone who could see past all the pretenses and walls, but it just hurts now. “Nothing,” you tell him, unable to hold eye contact any longer. “Look,” you take in a deep breath, and your brows furrow in confusion. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

Logan doesn’t look like he wants to drop the topic just yet but he relents. He nods towards your window and you fix him with an astonished look. “I climbed, I didn’t want your dad to risk seeing me on the security cameras out front.”

You feel suspicion brewing inside you, tone turning defensive. “Look, if you came here because you want to fuck again, I suggest you go find another girl. I’m not interested anymore.”

“Well,” he scoffs, “I find that hard to believe.” How easily he just dismisses your words. Like they hold no real importance. It makes you want to scream. Instead, you just flick your wrist, throwing him into another wall. You don’t know how you’re going to explain these holes in the wall to your father but you don’t really care.

“Enough,” he snaps, brushing himself off and glaring at you. Your lips curl up in amusement, the first thing you’ve felt besides anger and depression for the last week. “Look, I was coming here to get you the hell out, kid. Clearly, I’m not wanted.”

He walks towards your window, intent on climbing back down the side of your house and leaving. You almost let him, if only to see him scurrying down the wall. Instead, you take a step forward and stop him with a small, “Get me out?”

He sighs, running an aggrieved hand over his face and propping the other on his hip. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Look, I can’t stand the thought of you cooped up in here, isolated from the rest of the world. It’s not fair, I was gonna see if you…” He trails off and roughly swallows.

Your interest piques. Whatever is this hard for him to get out has to be interesting. “Logan,” you call his name softly. “See if I what?”

He huffs out a rough breath, turning around and staring you down. There’s something in his eyes, something reflected in yours. He’s looking at you the same way you always look at him. “You wanna come with me, kid?”

Well, you’d have to be an idiot to say no.

You don’t leave a note. You don’t give them any clues or hints as to where you might have gone. They can draw their own conclusions about what happened to you. They can tell the news whatever twisted lies they want.

You don’t care, that’s not your life anymore. Your life is packed away in a backpack in the back of Logan’s trailer. Your new life is in the passenger seat beside him. You’re equal parts terrified and excited to figure out what you’re going to do with the rest of it.

a/n: can you tell I know fuck all about politics?

Also, smut, wow, this was hard and rough to write. I don’t know why it’s such a struggle. I just feel guilty writing such dirty words, it’s absolutely diabolical that I have no problem being crazy over a guy whose age gap with me is the same age as my parents, but I can’t write smut.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp♡

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine imagine #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman

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yanderemommabean · 4 months ago

Text

Yandere Aliens x Reader

Content and Warnings: AFAB reader, multiple alien species, dubious consent/no consent, tentacles, some humiliation- 6k words. This was a commission, and I hope you enjoy as much as they did!

Meeting with new alien species was almost always a headache in your division. Earth was just stretching its legs into travel compared to how long these other beings have been around, and they always seemed to make that a point in any meeting you were forced to go to, and had to put up with their mocking and condescension.

Others point out that it's more like an affection, like one would have for a cute pet, but you shut them down and roll your eyes. They see humans as useless and fickle, there’s nothing more to it. And even if it were something like affection for a pet, how does that make it any better? Why would you want to be seen as weak as a furry friend?

Regardless, it’s your job to show that your species is more than capable of handling what they throw, and sometimes even spit, at you. Part of that job is showing up alone, digital clipboard in hand, and facing them head on with hopes you’ll gain more allies.

Today, a meeting is being held with new generals, new crusaders, and hopefully new partners to Earth's own space expedition force. It’s not that you have zero allies…It’s just, more than a handful would be preferred with some tensions rising.

As you walk into the giant room, you’re met with a handful of massive and tall creatures. Some with tentacles, some slimy, some beastly, and others…Just otherworldly in a sense that only H.P Lovecraft could really get behind. If you really want to give him any credit. According to the allies back home, they gave the man inspiration and he didn’t credit them at all.

There’s an odd aura in the room when you finally sit. It’s as if all of those predatory eyes were following your every breath as you waited to begin and state your case for allegiance. It’s as if you were some specimen to behold and admire rather than a serious being who needed to get proper allies and ties to your organization.

You make your way to begin speaking, but feel a chill go directly up your spine. While flickering through some of your digital paperwork, a rather invasive tentacle began to try and slither over your shoulder, and down your arm.

There’s an odd warmth to them, and dare you say they feel sentient. They’re purple and thick, coated in a sheen of what you can only call slime as they curl and tighten across your arm and try to get to the base of your wrist.

“I-I would uhm, appreciate it if you didn’t touch me” You manage to cough out, lifting the hefty weight of its slimy appendage off of our body while trying to remain composed. The muscled tendril seemed agitated as it was withdrawn back to its host, some low rumbling heard across the table as you cleared your throat. Whether or not it was a normal greeting didn’t matter, if you truly angered the species you can try to apologize later.

“Hello, and greetings. It’s my honor to address this council today for our plans to-” There’s those tentacles again. Two of them wriggling up your legs and weighing you down as you stumble over your words and ultimately fall, allowing the wretched things to crawl over more of you, while the being they belonged to seemed to purr and trill in triumph.

“No, Uhm, listen. We really can’t be this affectionate and touchy. I’m here on serious business to get you all to see why you should join earth's alliance. C-can one of you help? It’s becoming inappropriate…”

While you struggle, a deep voice chuckles from across the other end of the table, amused and entertained. “Draaknals. The species that can’t keep their parts to themselves. How cute that they’ve found a little toy they want to explore. I have to say, I’m feeling a tad jealous. Humans are such adorable creatures, I’ve always wanted to have one in my lap myself.”

You can’t even speak before you feel yourself being lifted up, anti-gravity dragging you towards the lap of the creature who was mocking how you were (more or less) being openly molested.

You’re met with the large lap of the elder alien, chuckling as its hands roam over your body and begin to rip at your suit, making your blood run cold and your face drain of color. The way they pluck at the fabric is all too playful for what you feel is trying to be done. Something like a present being unwrapped or like a pet being pestered.

“Ah. They’re softer than I had originally suspected. So warm and cute, so easy to hold and to carry around. The noises they make when they struggle are down right adorable.”

Adorable?! You’re a warrior from earth who went through hell for training! What the fuck do they mean adorable?!

Cold air rushes over your body as more and more of your clothes are torn, exposing your supple skin to the room as the remaining participants coo and chirp about. “I can see we agree. I wish to explore more of this being's body as well. Listen to how their heart picks up, how they suck in with cute little breaths. It’s addicting! We should see what other noises these creatures can make for us.”

The room hums with their noises of agreement, some chirping aloud and others gurgling their responses. As if this is what the meeting was truly about.

You’re quickly handed to the towering being next to you, whose hands are more than ready to start poking and prodding, cooing aloud about how soft your stomach is as they gently drag their nails over your skin, daring to cut it if they so wished.

They map over your body like you’re an artifact to be admired. Dipping into your hips, over your stomach, walking right up to your chest and just under your chin, tilting your head to get you to look up and meet their intimidating gaze.

You can’t even think let alone catch your breath as the room seems to spin, your head dizzy and panicked. How can you stop this? Get things back on track or at the very least escape? There’s no way you can fend for yourself in this! Giving in to some of their desires would be fine on its own, but the other species here are known for more brutal tactics, how can you possibly negotiate with that?!

You strangle out a gasp when you feel those wet tendrils back on you, gently flicking over your now hardened nipples. Wet and warm, they tease and rub over them sensually, curious and playful at the same time. The little flicks send soft shocks to your core, your toes tensing and your neck straining as you try to get them away from your face. You can’t stop the mewls and whimpers you make as the alien coos and clicks to its constituents, seemingly pleased with how easy it is to humiliate you.

“Xorvex…Do you feel that?” Another asks, tugging at the remaining patches of your suit with a grin. “I can sense how aroused this little human is. I’ve heard they can reach climax within minutes with just the right stimuli. Oh how envious that makes me. I wish my mates could orgasm with that much ease, over and over…It’s a delicacy.”

There’s a chill down your spine once again as you hear that. The creature's tooth filled grin only makes you want to hide and huddle away. Like a lamb cornered by starved and bored wolves. A sort of danger where you know it won't be over quickly, and that they’ll take their time despite your pleas for rest or freedom.

Maybe if you play along things won’t be so harsh? Perhaps you being this way can show them you mean no harm and they can join your forces? It’s asinine to think of in the moment but what else can you think to calm yourself? Panic would either entice them, make them pissed, or even bored. That or turn some on even more but if you’re already literally fucked, that’s not the worst outcome.

You yelp, undignified and pathetic. Your bare body now for the taking as they huddle around you and begin to indulge however they please. What feels like a wet tongue glides over your abdomen, coating your skin in saliva, over and over as you’re held in these creatures' massive hands. They mutter and murmur about how “delectable” and “tasty” you are, and you fear you might truly be eaten- only to have that fear dismissed.

For better or worse.

That wicked and slick muscle decides to curl against your thighs, the tip gently flicking over your mound as you stutter out gasps of shock and unexpected arousal. The appendage parts your lower lips eagerly, flicking and slurping as you can only writhe and feel your muscles tighten. Your thighs tense and shake, but are held open by the council member who admitted they adore when their mates can climax over and over. They exclaim joy and amusement with how easy they’re taking you apart, and you feel utter shame as you pitifully fail to fight.

“Right there…Yes. Good little human. I don’t understand why they try to make such adorable creatures like you fight in these wars. You’re clearly meant to just take our seed and be filled to the brim. Leaking as much as you are, I’m shocked you aren’t considered a case of neglect! Oh, but don’t you worry. We’re going to satiate every little devious human need you have.”

There’s a cold pinch, and your eyes shoot open, mouth agape. The tendril easily slides inside of you, pumping in and out with practised ease as the Draaknal from earlier chirps and growls in approval. You can’t even protest, the Xorvex and the Akaex having their mouths share yours, tongue stealing a taste with every breath you try to take in, making your core all the more molten as pleasure overtakes rationality.

The room is filled with wet sounds, all creatures invested in how to take you apart and make you their little plaything for as long as they deemed worthy. They coo in your ear about how unique you are, how they adore how you squirm and fight, and how good you look when being toyed with. Your thighs clench and tense as the tongue-like tendril continues to pump into you, like the alien in charge of it simply couldn’t get enough and wanted more, more, more.

One of the taller ones grunts and growls at the room, communicating something you couldn’t make out, only knowing that the tendril stopped and slipped out of you with a humiliating wet pop. They snarl back and forth to the two who first had you, before they sigh and back away, allowing you to be lifted upwards, placed on your back on the large pristine council table.

You feel the cool metal on your bare back, eyes darting all over the room as your brain tries to make sense of anything. You’re facing the chair of the council member who took you, and you start to think maybe you’ve been rescued-maybe they put a stop to this! But all that hope is brutally crushed as soon as the head member begins to speak again.

“Our friend here is right. We can indulge and get things done. A little sharing wouldn’t hurt. Just be sure to leave enough for the rest.”

There’s little you can do. Trying to fend for yourself will get you killed. Trying to escape is useless. They’re just taking what they want, as they want, all while in awe like you’re some sort of…Pet. Or perhaps more? There’s such an odd fascination, it’s hard to pinpoint how all of them truly feel. But regardless, it seems they’ve decided to make you their plaything.

There’s a warm mouth over your dripping mound, and once again you feel the white hot pleasure shoot up your spine as they let their long, thick tongue explore. Up and down, starved and greedy. Hands come to cup just under your ass to lift you up, shoulders on the table and legs falling backwards so the things tongue can truly get in as deep as possible.

You outright sob, hands trying to latch onto anything as the ecstasy burns and reaches its boiling point, wanting to rip away but at the same time, wanting to chase that high. There’s more growls, more chuffing and satisfied groaning, vibrating right into you and making your toes curl.

You can’t stop it. The blinding sensation racks through your core, and you find yourself making loud, stuttered gasps as you climax. Your mind is blank, everything white and blurry, breaths uneven as the council coo and purr about how good you look, and how interesting it is to see a human go through such bliss.

You don’t get much more time to think. You’re quickly passed onto the next alien, whose fingers are eager to explore, some in your mouth, others teasing your chest, and others curiously spreading you open as you’re sitting in their lap. “So pink…So soft. Just begging for us to taste. Maybe this is how they captivate a mate back home? So inviting!”

“Maybe they make it this way on purpose? To be bred until there’s sure to be offspring?” “No no, some humans mate to show love and romance only! I hear it's this soft and sweet to keep their mates addicted.” “I won’t believe it until the human is passed to me. Waiting turns to do research is less than favorable…But It’s such a rare opportunity, I can’t turn it down.”

It’s as if they don’t even care. Passive to your protests but adoring how they can make you squirm and writhe. Like they’re observing an endangered species and have to gather whatever intel they can.

Your pussy clenches down against the invading fingers, and you pathetically cry out. Your hips are grinding down on their own, wanting more yet also screaming from being so sensitive, handled like a doll. That shouldn’t make you all the more wet, it shouldn’t make you clamp down harder, but here you are. All parts horny and desperate and still somehow trying to fight it.

The long digits crook and curl, knowing exactly where to hit and how hard. You feel a yelp forced out of you, the pleasure way too intense too soon, but your body is acting on it’s own. Your eyes are rolling back, saliva is coating the digits in your mouth, and there’s fuck all you can do when you size up and feel yourself spraying all over the beings hand.

There’s amused purrs and trills, some even laughing in awe, like they watched a marvelous spectacle, and you’re then handed off again. Truly like a toy. Why does that turn you on? Why is any of this making you act like some desperate animal in heat?

You feel a sense of shame as you listen to the previous one lick its fingers, audibly groaning and sucking like it’s never eaten something so delicious.

There’s garbled noises and growls, something you wish you could decipher, but your gut tells you what you already know. This is far from over. Predators were surrounding a wounded lamb and ready to take whatever piece they could get their teeth on.

“Why are we focusing only on the earthlings' pleasure? Honestly I never understood your kind. Your species always gives and gives and wonders why it’s dwindling in population. The human here should serve us. Be useful.” The large, red, muscular creature grunts this towards the entire council, and is quick to snatch you away and bring you to the next seat. Its uniform is dazzled with badges of war, some honorable, others just decoration for how brutally they fought their enemies.

They’re an Undrut. Known for their brute strength, short fuse, and shoot first ask questions later attitude.

“Please-” You choke out, feeling their massive hand around your throat. “-Wait a moment! Just let me-NGH!” You hiss, eyes slamming shut as the Undrut hovers over you and begins to slip its larger, thicker fingers into you.

“So tiny and pathetic. Made to be protected, not to serve. You should be in a nest, letting someone stronger bring you food, bring you safety, bring you comfort. You’re much too squishy and feeble to be out here with us, the battlefield would only chew you up and devour you.”

There’s a wet “schluck” sound, and you’re terrified to look down and see the massive length pressing right against you.

“Easy, Agorox. Humans are fragile like you said. Being brutish will just kill this one.”

The being chuffs, rubbing its glistening head over your sore and gaping cunt, snarling out to the smug voice beside them. It seemed annoyed, but taking the council members' words into consideration. You shiver as the hand tightens around your throat, just barely, its fingers clenching here and there as Agorox rubs the head of his long, thick cock against your soaked folds.

Agorox hummed, bending closer to whisper in your ear as you felt more of his weight on you. “If you were on my planet, you’d be seen as the highest honor for a mate. We love to show off how well we provide.”

He pulls back with a chuckle. “Such a cute little species” He mused, the head beginning to push inside. Your tight rim can barely accommodate, stretching around his length as your voice goes tight, air feeling stuck in your chest as that monstrous length tries to fit inside of you.

The Undrut chuffs and snarls, but now in arousal, sliding his ribbed cock deeper and deeper inside of you as your walls pulse and throb, sucking him deeper. The size was enough to make anyone sore the next few days, but your body was acting as if you’d never felt this type of relief before. Every ridge pressed exactly where you needed, every inch stretched you just right. You felt like you were close to an actual heaven despite being locked in some sort of lewd, depraved hell.

“That’s it. Such a good, obedient human.”

You feel a wave of warmth wash over you at that. Something about the deep voice praising you made you want to melt into a puddle. A box to unpack for another day perhaps. You don’t really care for a psychoanalysis when an alien is eight inches deep and your mind is slowly breaking.

“Every inch. I know you can take it, earthling” Agorox hisses, pressing his hips flush to yours, watching in unbridled arousal. The bump that pokes from your abdomen has the alien on what you humans would call “cloud nine.”

The others watch in awe, watching as you take inch after inch like you’re made of elastic. Your body twitches and jolts with each deep thrust, slowly gaining momentum as you finally let yourself go. The pleasure from it all, knowing you couldn’t fight them off-What was the harm in giving them what they wanted?

“Nhh” Your throat felt tight as even more of that length speared you open. You couldn’t help but watch as well, nearly obsessively as it’s cock just disappeared inside of you. You push yourself downwards, wanting to rock against the creature and get truly bred, the noises you made being practically punched out of you.

Something primal was crawling out of the recess of your mind. You wanted this. Yo unwanted every thick, addicting inch, and every ounce of cum that this creature could provide. Part of your more sane mind had to assume it’s just something this species can cause with saliva or something. The other part doesn’t care and wants to be filled and to be climaxing right this second.

Agorox growled low in the back of his throat, impressed that you dared to be so bold. He doubles over you, thrusting inside with more and more abandon, watching as you arch off of the table and claw at anything for some sort of grounding or purchase.

“Amazing. Soft and brittle yet they can handle a warrior like me. Look at them. Taking me in over and over, waiting for my seed” he chuffs, grinning widely as he lets his massive hands come to hold your waist- so tiny in comparison that his fingers could touch.

The way he began to fully plow into you, you started to see tiny stars behind your eyes. You couldn’t even wrap your thighs around this creature's abdomen, as much as you wanted to, wishing to pull him deeper and hold him there so you could feel every bit of what he’s giving.

Maybe it’s how this creature mates, but something about the idea of him pulling out any time soon made you want to wail in distress. It made your stomach twist. You arch your hips to meet his aggressive downward thrusts, making you clench and throb all over again as he used to his liking.

Agorox grunted and chuffed as he fucked you, deep and fast. Over and over, hurried and greedy as he watched his cock disappear into you, bulging right in your stomach. “Take it. Be a good little human and take my seed. Every. Last. Drop. Waste any of it and you’ll see why my kind is feared.” There’s a deep, rumbling sound from deep in the red alien's chest, and soon you feel your core being filled with warm, slick gushes of cum. Viscous, deep into your cervix, coating you inside and even out as no earthly creature such as yourself could truly hold that much. You start to feel a bit bad for any other smaller creature that takes an Undruts fancy.

It’s so debauched and filthy, it sends you into shame while also tipping you over the edge, climaxing once again. Your core spasms, tensing and hot as your thighs lock, and your voice goes hoarse in a cry. Head lolling back as curses and pitiful whimpers echo against the walls. All for the amusement of the council. A spectacle of Earth.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Humans can only handle so much, you know this!” a member scolds, but it’s half hearted at best. There’s tendrils sliding against you again, and you’re placed back to the being who started all of this in the first place, and feel a sense of dread knowing what they wanted from you next.

But with how you’re clenching around nothing and covered in a dubious mess, can you really say you didn’t want to continue?

“My my, what a display. The little human was easier to break than I had hoped, but I’m by no means complaining. Do you think they break like this with their own mates? I read that some humans have to have this happen multiple times before reaching their preferred mind space.” “Once again, there’s fictional stories humans write for fun, and there’s facts. I know which ones you tend to pick up, Urlen.”

“Oh, pardon me for enjoying the finer things of human creation. I should be executed for such a crime.”

The two banter back and forth for a bit, all while the tendrils caress over your body, slithering and exploring, just much much more eager and bold. The heft they have is an odd comfort to you, like some macabre weighted blanket, and you have to wonder if they’re onto something about being in a subspace or even fully mind broken.

You’re hyper aware of everything that’s happening. Every touch and every caress has you jerking and feeling like you’ve been shocked. Yet you find yourself tilting your head back and allowing it all to happen, no longer caring how they treated you. If this is how they want to learn about the human race, who are you to stop such a pleasurable science? Not that they cared for it either way it seemed.

Damned aliens always take and take without question. You knew that coming in and just assumed they were pompous, but no. You couldn’t be more wrong. They were starved for knowledge and attained their info by any means- and it seems this group adored hands on.

The tentacles begin to slide across your lips, tickling your mouth open before taking full advantage. They didn’t taste awful either, and you find yourself becoming all the more relaxed as the tentacles fill you up from every hole, curling and pumping over and over as the alien host coos and purrs inside of your head.

“Such a pretty species. Such eagerness for pleasure. How you can handle this size…I’m amazed. Perhaps having you as mates would be wonderful for my more hungry brothers and sisters.” You wince, feeling the tendrils prodding deeper into your aching pussy. The burn is more pleasant than before, but you can’t help but feel they’re pushing you to your limit, as if truly trying to test how much you can bend before you break.

You gag and choke on the appendages forcing their way down your throat, but the way they go about it has you clenching and jerking, your core turning molten. It was perfectly lewd, your hands itching to reach down and play with your clit as they used you how they pleased. It was heady and hot. Everything is ten times more sensitive, every touch like an electric shock across your heated skin. Your tongue relaxes and allows the tentacles to use your mouth and throat, the weight somehow nice and easy to get lost with as you suckle and lick wherever you can.

“Yeeessss. That's it. What a beautiful way to fall apart. You humans are so interesting…denying yourselves this bliss with your odd religions and your strange customs. Wouldn’t you love to just be like this? I could arrange a perfect marriage for that if you’d like-” “Now's not the time. They’re here for our research, not your political moves.” The tendrils leave you as the creature goes back to hissing and snarling at Urlen, the head of the council, who was looking all parts of the cat who got the cream. An odd smugness surrounds his aura as he watches how you’re handled and devoured.

Like he’s the one who tossed the meat to the lions. The one who ran the circus.

“It’s such a shame that the meeting is drawing near an end. I was having so much fun, I wanted to take you apart even more. But that’s alright, dear human. I can indulge just a bit more before we have to be off.” You blearily look up to him, your legs not at all wanting to work as he stands over you and lifts you up with ease. Your skin buzzed with heat and electricity, everything so intense and making you lose your breath. Slick dribbled from you, cum coating your inner thighs as it drips, down to the floor, all the more reason for your cheeks to bloom in molten shame.

There’s another shiver, and you’re placed right on his lap, massive length now proudly standing and rubbing between your ass cheeks as Urlens hands massage the meat and flesh. Possessive and greedy, cupping and digging his larger fingers into the flesh like he was angered that he couldn’t do it before now. However, if he was angry, he covered it up with that superior-to-you tone.

“Goodness. If I hold you just like this, right against my cock, I can feel your heart rate. Beat after eager beat, waiting for me.” Urlen shows his teeth in a grin, rows upon rows of sharp teeth just waiting to sink into your flesh and claim you. Marr your skin for the very bragging rights that he got ahold of you.

Oh how utterly greedy that would make him. And at such an established event! But…Isn’t that all the more savory? Erotic? He can’t fully help himself. There’s just something about breaking you down like this that has his entire being elated and wanting more.

You wheeze, back bowing into a taut arch as the head of his thick, wet cock presses inside. Urlen’s deliberately going slow, inch by agonizing inch, making you savor the pleasure as you feel exactly how deep he’s reaching inside of you. You swear you can feel him right in your guts. Right against every overstimulated bundle of nerves. “Down here-” He purrs, and there’s another sweet gasp from your lips. “This feels good too, right? So swollen and stiff. Look at how you jolt and quiver…How many nerve endings are here? How many times can I play with this while you take me? Does it help reproduce? Or is it just for creatures like me to milk you of bliss until you hurt?”

Christ, do they ever shut up?! You can’t even think of a response, you're completely on auto pilot and chasing that high once again. You need him to keep going, to play with your clit while you ride on his massive cock, completely abandoning decorum. As if you had any to begin with when this all first started.

There’s only guttural grunts and moans after you whimper for him. Looking much too cute to just leave needy and desperate for release. Over and over, you feel your body pressing down to take his length as you claw into his dark blue skin.

You were chasing that high, uncaring for how you looked or how you sounded, Your hands traveled up and down your own body, relishing in the debauchery of it all, bouncing and feeling your chest, your stomach, pressing right on the bulging skin as you felt all shame finally leave. Urlen and the others are a mix of pleased, intrigued, and in awe. If they didn’t have any interest in humans before, they do now. Though, perhaps not for the reasons you were sent here for.

“Fuck! Ngh-Wait! “ You feel your voice rising in pitch, panicked as you’re shoved on your back, the cold table sending you into the opposite direction and nearly ruining your orgasm as Urlen stands over you, rutting into you slowly.

He wants you to feel it. Feel how deep he is, how he’s spearing you open. An odd primal urge overcomes him as he watches you take all of him with ease. Like you craved him just as badly.

“Can’t believe you can take away our composure like this. So soft, small, easy to use. You truly have no idea how good you look do you? How utterly insane your kind drives me. It’s pathetic you ruin me with such ease!” he bites out, angling his thrusts so he could watch himself plunge into your soaked and swollen pussy. The way you clamp down and suck him in, how warm and tight you are, it’s enough to make even his kind lose his mind. No wonder humans love this for a pastime, for a reason to lose themselves- This pleasure was addicting!

His species could feast for eons with this information.

You're a victim to a body quaking orgasm once again, sobs leaving your lips as breaths are punched out of you, pleasure so intense you’d think you were being punished by these creatures and not being experimented on.

Well, maybe it was that sincere in the beginning. Now you’re sure that veil has fallen. You may not know a lot of alien customs, but you know when feral arousal overtakes a group.

It’s like it’s never ending. Over and over his length plunges inside of you, causing you to squeal and shake, the pressure building inside like you’re about to burst. Eyes rolled in the back of your head, thighs aching in the most delicious way possible, white hot bliss making your brain turn to static as you truly let go, unable to care about whatever else could be happening.

There’s an audience of coos and praise as you feel yourself squirt, chest heaving in uneven breaths, your soul feeling as if it was pulled out of you and pulled through a wringer. You just came. Again. Not only that, but you squirted. Lewd, debauched, and all parts erotic.

You can’t feel an ounce of shame with this. What’s there to be ashamed about? They want to explore your body, let them. It’s much easier than trying to act as if this could ever go back to a place of decorum and sanctity. Let them play and feed.

And oh, do they. You’re filled to the brim by Urlen, somehow able to handle more copious amounts of his seed than you thought, the mess running out of you like a river when he pulls away and his cock stands proud. Your essence clearly drips off of him, giving it a sheen as it bobs and twitches, still eager to slam back inside you given the slightest sign that he could.

Everything turns to a blur after that. Handed to another member, tongues cleaning you out while they mutter this and that about your species, cooing about how cute you are, how delectable you are, how good you handle their sizes as you're forced into orgasm, after orgasm, after orgasm.

It’s like some Roman punishment. The hero now the victim as you’re enjoyed and devoured, losing yourself to these creatures like you pissed off Aphrodite (or dare you say you earned her favor? This isn’t exactly the worst way to go.)

You’re once again with the tentacles, sucking on whichever decide to take your mouth as another creature is slamming away, purring deeply as they take you. You don’t even care to know which species. It’s all the same. Pleasure, euphoria, mind numbing orgasms- Why would you care who’s giving it to you?

The tentacles leave your mouth, letting you take in much needed breaths as the final alien takes you for a ride. Deep, fast,and rabbit-like. Taking and taking, chasing their own pleasure as you sit in your own little mental bubble.

There’s a final thrust deep into your cunt. The alien pulls away and grins as its fingers go to spread you open, showing your clenching hole to the others, as if you truly couldn’t ever get enough. Their fingers tease your sore and red rimmed hole, chuckling when you jerk and whine from the touch, like a predator toying with its meal.

You’re given a moment to breathe after that. The demons in these other worldly creatures finally satiated it seemed. You’re face down on the large table, eyes bleary and skin covered in sweat, saliva, and a mix of all of their essence. Hair mussed, teeth marks lining your body, and every drop of energy gone.

How the hell did you survive?

“I’d say this meeting went well” Urlen muses, dragging his fingers down your spine in a similar way someone touches a marble statue. Mapping you out and wanting to admire you all the more. You wonder if it's a way to try to comfort you- Then again who are you kidding? They passed you around without preamble and gave you one of the hardest brain resets a human could ever experience. But still, it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

“All things considered, I say we join your earthling alliance. I can see a wonderful future with us as allies. If you give us this hospitality with every meeting, how could we ever in our right minds say no?” There’s a pitiful whimper as Urlen lifts you up, placing you on your ass as his fingertips tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “And, I’ll be more than happy to have you as my personal translator. My little ambassador…You can show me all of your customs and ways of pleasure. All for me to feast on.”

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #mommabean #yandere aliens #yandere exophilia #yandere noncon #yandere dub con #yandere smut #yandere lemons #reblog if you liked it so others can enjoy

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flamingpudding · 1 year ago

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Jail Buddies

Once a month, Jason makes an effort to meet Dick on purpose. Sometimes even more. After all, he was a good little brother checking in with his brother. Though he had a rather uncontroversial way of doing so. One that involved getting led into a jail cell of your local police department and loudly demanding to speak to Officer Grayson.

Okay, maybe it wasn't like that it was an effort to check on his brother and just one of his many listed dumb moments of recklessness he got caught for. And he was maybe using his brother to get out without having to call Cass, Steph, Duke, Tim, Damian, Alfred or Bruce, in that order depending who was willing to bail him out every time Dick had his 'Little Wing you won't learn if I keep bailing you out.'-Phases again. Or if Dick was being petty because of a recent prank war.

Either way, while Jason was waiting for Dick to make his entrance in his cell he noticed the teen boy sharing the cell with him staring at him wide eyed. He arched an eyebrow, and decided on a whim to make friendly conversation.

"So what got you here kid?"

The teen blinked as if just realizing Jason had addressed him before grinning a bit feral, his blue eyes having an unnatural glow. "Vandalism."

Jason's eyebrow rose again, but the teen continued.

"Trashed mu place and gave my guardian's car a pretty paint job and some other stuff."

"You vandalized your own place? And got arrested."

"Fruitloop decided an overnight stay was a better punishment then leaving me unattended."

The teen shrugged and Jason couldn't help but feel like he just had heard a red flag. He opened his mouth to question the kid more but than his brother finally made his entrance.

"Little Wing! What did you do this time!?" Jason could see that Dick was out to start a rant but changed tunes when he noticed the teen.

"Danny or Dan? You are here again? When did they bring you in? Trouble at home?" Dick asked, and Jason clearly saw the telltale signs of information fishing bat style.

"Danny and the usual." Danny, as Jason now learned the kid's name was, shrugged nonchalantly like this wasn't the first time he and Dick had had that exchange.

"Seriously buddy? I had a rebellious phase as teen too but to regularly trash your home to the point that someone calls the police or vandalize your guardian's cars, buildings, advertisements or anything that has to do with him is not a solution kid." Jason arched an eyebrow at Dicks tone, feeling slightly reminded of whenever Dick lectured one of them.

"Oh I know. But it's a nice stress reliever, plus you guys are nice here. I get pizza as dinner whenever I stay the night." The kid grinned and Jason couldn't help the snort that earned him a little glare from Dick.

Instead of arguing further his brother let out a suffering sigh and let Jason out of the cell, waving him towards the exit and following him shortly after giving the kid one more look that looked like a mix between stern and pleading to stop being a rebellious teen.

Once out of earshot, Jason then chose to ask. "So what's the kid's deal?"

"Nothing, just a rebellious teen reminds me of Damian when he first appeared. He has a twin and a little sister as far as I know, both of them also known here. Their guardian is an upstanding man, though." Jason heard the hidden but.

"Did someone look into it?" He hummed more as a cover.

"Higher ups don't know, but i am running an investigation." Translation Bruce is unaware, but Dick was using Bat resources for looking into the kid's residence.

"Nice kid, didn't think he was a regular." He only commented.

"Nice and polite, you wouldn't think he did some of the things he was brought in for. Distrustful though, despite his friendly nature."

Jason nodded as Dick went through the papers to bail him out, a thought popping up in his head. Clearly, something was up with the kid that had his brother worried, and it looked like he was stuck on just doing his investigation. So, being the thoughtful little brother he was, Jason decided to help his brother.

In his uncontroversial ways, of course.

"Yo Danny, also here?" Jason grinned as he was led into the same cell the teen was in a week later.

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nightcourtnovels · 3 months ago

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Little Matchmaker

Azriel x reader (Part 2)

Summary: Azriel is watching Nyx during a visit to the Day Court and Nyx runs off and finds you. Later that night, you and Azriel meet again at a party and Nyx can’t help but continue to play games.

~~~~~~~~~~

The elegant glow of the Day Court palace sparkled under the soft amber lights of the evening, where laughter and the faint clinking of glasses filled the air. Feyre, Helion, and Azriel stood together in a quieter corner of the grand hall, sharing an easy conversation as the party swirled around them. Azriel’s thoughts were elsewhere, though. His attention was drawn to Nyx, who was nestled in Feyre’s arms. The little prince was squirming with excitement, his bright eyes scanning the room.

And then, as if he had been waiting for this very moment, Nyx caught sight of you. His face lit up in a radiant grin, and he waved his tiny hand frantically, as if he were trying to grab your attention.

Helion, following Nyx’s gaze, let out a soft chuckle.

“Ah, I see. The little one has charmed my scholar,” he said with a playful smirk.

Azriel couldn’t help but glance at you, and for a brief moment, everything around him faded. You were stunning in that pale yellow dress, your gold jewelry glimmering in the soft light of the party, and your hair falling in perfect waves. A rush of warmth spread through him at the sight, and despite himself, his heart gave an unexpected flutter.

Nyx, oblivious to the effect you had on the older male, giggled, calling out excitedly, “Hi, pretty Y/N!”

Everyone in the group laughed softly, and you turned toward Nyx with a smile. “Hello, little prince. How are you this evening?”

Nyx beamed, his eyes sparkling with pure innocence. “I’m good! This is my mom!”

You straightened up, now addressing Feyre. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Feyre. I’ve heard a lot of wonderful things.”

Feyre smiled warmly, shaking your hand. “The pleasure is mine, Y/N. We’ve been hearing all about you from Nyx. I’m sure we’ll get to know each other better soon.”

Helion, still grinning, leaned in. “If you two ever find any free time, you should visit Y/N in the libraries. She’s my best scholar,” he said with a wink.

Nyx’s excitement surged. “Can I go, Mommy? Can I go visit her?”

Feyre chuckled at Nyx’s enthusiasm. “Maybe, little one, but I’m very busy tomorrow.”

Azriel, who had been silent this entire time, suddenly found his voice. “I can take him,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out more awkwardly than he would have liked. “As long as that’s okay with you, Y/N.” His voice softened, as though he were unsure of his own suggestion.

You smiled gently at his discomfort, your eyes warm. “I would be more than happy to, Azriel.”

Both Feyre and Helion exchanged knowing glances, their faces barely concealing their amusement. The two tried to suppress their smiles, but the underlying laughter was unmistakable. Meanwhile, Nyx, ever oblivious, was too busy grinning at the thought of another adventure.

Nyx bounced excitedly in Feyre’s arms. “Yay! A date!”

Azriel’s eyes widened, his cheeks turning slightly red. “It’s not a date, Nyx,” he said, a little too quickly. “It’s just a visit. To the library.”

But Nyx, unphased by the correction, shook his head. “Daddy takes Mommy on dates all the time with me.”

You stifled a giggle at Azriel’s discomfort, his face flushing a deeper shade of red.

“Well then, Azriel,” you said with a teasing smile, your tone light and playful, “it looks like it’s a date then.”

Azriel, now thoroughly flustered, glanced down at you, utterly unsure of how to respond. He then let out a long breath, trying—and failing—to hide his own smile.

“You’re something else, little one.” He leaned down to ruffle Nyx’s hair gently, who giggled, his innocent eyes filled with delight.

Y/N’s heart fluttered as she watched the two interact, a fleeting sense of longing that she quickly shook off when she heard the High Lord of Night speak. Rhys had called over Feyre and Azriel, motioning them to join him. Y/n smiled fondly as they said their goodbyes with promises of library visits soon.

Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy watching the beautiful family together. She wanted that, wished for it, but it seems fate has always had other plans for her. Ever the observer, Helion noticed her turn of emotions and quickly changed the subject.

Helion chuckled softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Azriel so… flustered. You might be a bad influence, Y/N.”

Shaking off the dark thoughts, you smirked as you caught Azriel’s gaze from across the room. He looked away quickly, clearly still flustered by the exchange. “I think I’m just bringing out his true self,” you replied.

Helion laughed. “Careful, Y/N, you just might break his heart,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know... If he keeps looking at me like that, I might just let him break mine.”

Helion chuckled again, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “You’re a dangerous one, aren’t you?” You shook your head, lightly smacking him on the shoulder. “Let’s get some drinks.”

~~~~~~~~

As the night wore on, the atmosphere remained warm and lively, the guests engaging in lighthearted conversations. You found yourself lost in the ebb and flow of the evening, when, unexpectedly, a figure appeared at your side. Azriel stood there, close enough that you could feel his presence, but not too close. He looked at you with a hesitant smile. “How’s your night going?” he asked, his voice soft and genuine.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “It’s going well, much more interesting now,” you teased, your voice light with humor.

Gaining his confidence back without the little prince to torment him, Azriel raised an eyebrow, his lips curled into a subtle smirk. “Interesting, huh?”

You shrugged innocently in return.

“It seems you’ve enchanted Nyx,” Azriel said with a quiet chuckle.

You grinned, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Don’t worry, Shadowsinger,” you said with a wink, “it’s only a date if you want it to be.”

Azriel’s smirk deepened, and for the first time that evening, his usual composed exterior cracked just a little. “Have you thought that maybe I do want it to be,” he replied, his voice low and full of meaning.

You blushed at his words, your heart fluttering, and with a soft smile, you couldn’t help but wonder where this would go—if anything at all. But for now, you’d let the night unfold as it would, and perhaps, just maybe, a date was exactly what it was.

For the rest of the night, the two of you found an easy rhythm in the conversation, the air between you charged with playful energy. Every word you exchanged seemed to bring another laugh, another hint of warmth between you. Azriel’s gaze never left yours, and with each glance, you could feel the gravitating pull between the two of you.

#acotar #azriel #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader

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mydearzero · 23 days ago

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The Babysitter | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader - Chapter 10 | Dr. Sofen

Summary: You didn’t have any superpowers, nor were you even qualified for the position, yet somehow a mishap between Alexei and Yelena ends up in getting you a new job. Bob-sitter.

Contents: No Y/N, fem!reader, college student!reader, therapy, depression, anxiety

Read it on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 9

WC: 2.4K

A/N: my apologies if there’s any formatting issues, this was written on my phone instead of my laptop lol

Bob’s first therapy session had seemed to be a success. He was doubtful it was going to work, but admitted it was nice to own up to his darker thoughts to someone who could be impartial about them. It was reassuring that he was finally getting professional help. Maybe in a few months, he’d be ready to start training his powers with the rest of the team, making him a real asset.

Alexei had already begun boasting about battle strategies, though it felt a bit tasteless. You liked the man well enough, but he really needed to learn about boundaries and appropriate timing. This was not the time to start talking about ‘using’ Bob to their advantage, no matter how powerful he was.

You sat in the waiting room, waiting for Bob to finish his next therapy session. You’d met her for the first time that day; A tall, blonde lady named Dr. Sofen. Her friendly smile gave you some peace of mind.

The waiting room was decorated to look inviting, but really wasn’t very much so. The artwork lacked emotion. The paint was chipping off some of the walls. The water cooler dripped irregularly. The hour you waited for Bob felt more like six. You were shaking your leg, waiting for the minutes to pass when the door finally opened again.

Bob was profusely thanking Dr. Sofen, who shook his hand and led him into the waiting room. You made eye contact with him and were slightly startled to see he’d obviously been crying. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks red. His hand was shaky as it left Dr. Sofen’s, who called for the next patient.

“Hey,” his voice was a little shaky as he addressed you.

“Hey, you ready?” He nodded and you walked out of the stuffy waiting room.

“How’d it go?” You asked as you pushed the doors to get outside. You held the door open for him and he quickly walked through it before answering.

“Yeah- uh. Nice, I guess. However nice therapy can be,” he laughed. He rubbed his eye with his palm, trying to alleviate the dryness caused by tears.

“Do you want to talk about it? Kind of ironic, maybe, since that’s what therapy’s for, but I’ll listen if you want,” you rambled. He thanked you, but declined. He’d done enough talking in the last hour.

You walked with him to the subway station, ready to get back to the tower. This had only been his second session, but you could tell it drained him. Not too surprising, considering the trauma and emotions he was trying to work through.

It was clear he was trying not to fall asleep on the ride home. Try being the key word. His eyes slowly drooped shut, head bobbing along to the movements of the wagon. Eventually his head found your shoulder and stayed there. A small smile crept up your lips as you felt it happen. You were glad he felt safe enough with you to drop his guards and fall asleep in public.

You only woke him up when your stop was nearing. He rubbed the little bit of sleep from his eyes. When you reached your stop, you got up and reached for his hand. The crowd was denser than usual, so you held it as you led him through the crowded cart. You damned yourself for the tingles running through your fingers where your skin met his. This was your job, you couldn’t go feel like this about him. It really didn’t help that he’d grown so attached to you.

You walked into the tower and waited for the elevator together. His face had cleared up during his nap, no more evidence of his tears visible. The elevator ride to the penthouse was comfortably quiet. You were curious as to what he and Dr. Sofen talked about during their session, but wouldn’t push him to talk about it.

When you arrived back at the penthouse it was empty. It was the middle of the afternoon, so it wasn’t too surprising. Yelena had mentioned something about training, anyway.

Bob was chewing on his bottom lip, something he did often when anxious, you’d noted.

“What’s up?” You questioned, concerned his therapy session was bothering him more than he’d been letting on.

“Maybe I do want to talk about therapy with you,” Bob decided. You sat with him on the couch, soft music playing in the background. You didn’t recognise the song, it must have been one of Ava’s obscure playlist left playing.

“You can tell me. I’m not sure if I’m gonna be the best at giving advice, but I can try,” you offered. You leaned your elbow on the back of the couch and turned your body to face him. He mirrored your position, leaning comfortably into the couch.

“I don’t need advice, I think. I’m just curious where it’s all going. It’s hard to not be a pessimist about therapy when nothing in the past has seemed to work,” he sighed.

“You’re probably thinking what difference talking about your problems could make, right?” He nodded in response.

“Hmm, it’s difficult. It doesn’t work for everybody. Especially if you’re an over-thinker, which I’m getting the feeling you just might be. You already know where all your problems stem from. You know how you feel and why. All you need help figuring out how to stop feeling like that. And the answer to that differs for everybody. But I’m sure Dr. Sofen will work through the options with you,” you tried reassuring him, but it was likely nothing he didn’t already know.

“It’s just… I’ve felt like this for so long. For as long as I can remember, really. I guess I just don’t know who I am without that part of me,” he looks away.

“It’s hard to imagine yourself happy?”

He nodded and laughed lightly, though not out of amusement.

“I am happy with you guys. But I have these highs, and even during them I just can’t fully enjoy because I know within no-time I’m gonna be feeling so much worse. It’s hard to enjoy anything that way,” he explained.

“And then you get the lows… Every time you hit one of those you feel like it might just be the last one because you’re not sure how long you can keep going like that.” Your heart hurt for him. He could explain it well, he understood his feelings. He just wanted a solution.

“In the past… I’ve done things I’m not proud of,” he turned his body away and looked down at his hands, trembling in his lap.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you told him. You were curious, sure, but really didn’t want to hurt him any more than he already was.

“No- it’s okay. It’s not like you can’t go online and find my record,” he grimaced.

“You have a criminal record?” You gaped. He nodded before elaborating.

“I had a meth problem. It was quite bad. One of the ways I tried fixing the problem myself, I guess.” He always spoke with such uncertainty, you noticed. I guess. I suppose. I think.

“Well, I’m glad that’s in the past. Thank you for telling me, though. That can’t have been easy,” you put a soothing hand on his knee.

“It’s not that bad, actually. It’s not the talking about it that I have a problem with. I’ve just been… ‘bad’ for so long that at this point it feels like a new neutral, you know? People pity you for being depressed, but if it’s been long enough you don’t really know what the difference is. I can’t currently imagine what genuine happiness feels like. That’s the hardest part. Trying to imagine the future without being nihilistic about it.” He sighed deeply.

“I’m really sorry that that’s the cards you were dealt. Life is not fair. If there’s anything I can do for you…” you smiled at him, but he looked away again.

“I know you don’t mean it like that, but it’s that exact look, the pity, that makes it difficult to talk about. Either way, I’m glad you’re here. It’s not exactly the right way to go about it, I must admit; forcing me to just never be alone. But it seems to be working, to some extent.” The smile he gave you was genuine, less sad.

“I’ll try to work on the ‘no pity’ thing, but it’s gonna be hard when you give me those puppy eyes,” you joked. It instantly lightened the mood. Then Bob’s phone buzzed with a notification.

“Walker asks what we’re doing for dinner,” he lets you know. It was a nice interruption of the conversation for him.

“Who’s gonna be in tonight? Do you know?” You asked. Bob shrugged.

“Bucky and Yelena are on the floor below, training, I think. Alexei’s probably around. Ava’s out, and I’m assuming from his text Walker wants to join.”

“Take-out?” You suggested. You didn’t really feel like cooking, and a lot of the team had made it clear over time they really weren’t the best cook. Unfortunately you’d learned that the hard way. Bob usually tried and was proving a decent chef, but after the session today you felt like he could use some greasy comfort food.

“Oooh, can we get Indian food?” Bob’s eyes lit up.

“You don’t have to ask me for permission, silly,” you pushed his shoulder playfully. “If you want Indian, let’s order Indian. Not sure if Walker can handle any spice, though. Last time I made curry he coughed up a storm.”

“Even more reason to order extra spice,” Bob grinned mischievously.

Bob placed a large order at his favourite restaurant nearby while you put out some plates and cutlery. He’d let Walker know it would be Indian, and he suddenly had other plans.

Yelena and Bucky arrived in the elevator, sweaty as all hell.

“You both better shower before dinner gets here, no sweaty elbows at the dinner table,” you warned, pointing at Bucky, especially. He was extra greasy.

“Okay, mom. Didn’t know you were our babysitter, too,” Bucky raised his hands in mock defense.

“Hey, you better watch how you talk to my babysitter,” Bob threatened jokingly. You were glad he was able to see some amusement in the arrangement.

You thought back to what he’d said earlier, about it not being the most correct way to approach the issue. He had a point, but with how busy the team was, you understood they didn’t have many options. You were glad it had gotten you where you were now, though. The team was a nice change from Mrs. Lowinski’s cats, even if they were just as stinky at times. Especially Alexei.

Speaking of the devil, the man came bouldering into the dining room. “Lena said Indian food. I hope you ordered many naan!”

Yelena followed him closely, drying her hair with a towel. “Jesus, I’m starving,” she moaned.

“The food here yet?” Bucky’s voice rang from the hallway.

“Not yet! Any minute!” Bob replied. The setting was strangely domestic, considering the collection of people present.

Bucky walked into the dining room and you couldn’t help but stare at his detached metal arm. He noticed the look and quickly reattached it, swinging his arm around for good measure.

“Not really comfortable in the shower,” he explained.

“Ah,” you nodded. You couldn’t exactly speak from experience and agree.

The intercom system announced the arrival of the food delivery boy, who came out of the elevator with more bags of food than he could realistically carry. Bob quickly scurried over, took all of the bags from the boy and slipped him some money.

“Thanks, David,” he smiled. First name basis with the delivery boy?

“No problem, Bob. Thanks again for the tip,” David grinned, quickly walking back into the elevator before it could go back down without him.

You unloaded the many bags of food onto the table, making sure the stack of naan was close to Alexei.

“So, how’s Dr. Sofen?,” Yelena asked Bob.

“She’s great! Really understands what I’m going through, surprisingly. We’re still starting with basic info before we can go any further or deeper with the treatment, but it’s a good start,” Bob nodded, shoveling butter chicken into his mouth like it was his life’s mission.

Yelena smiled contently. “Good.”

“Think you can start training anytime soon?” Bucky questioned. The question clearly didn’t only surprise you. Bob choked slightly, coughing before he could answer.

“Training? I thought that was months away,” he spoke sheepishly.

“Well, extensive training, yes. But there’s other things to train besides the control over your powers. We need to get some muscle on you,” Bucky pointed at him with his fork.

You didn’t know how to tell Bucky that when it came to muscles, Bob was all set. Not the time. Don’t think about that. Suddenly your plate was very interesting.

“I’m- uh… I think I’m… good? In that department?” Bob sounded unsure himself. Damn right he was good in that department. You stayed silent.

“You are small like deer. Need to become like bear,” some rice fell from Alexei’s mouth into his beard as he spoke.

“Did we not fight here in this very building? I’m confused,” Bob said. “I won, by the way.”

“Well yeah, but that was as Sentry,” Yelena interjected.

“I mean, the flying and stuff was Sentry, but I’ve got muscle,” Bob was starting to sound defensive.

“Bob’s good, guys. Don’t worry about him building muscle,” you finally cringed out. Bob’s head whipped towards you, eyes wide.

“And how would you know that?” Yelena laughed.

“Well- he- I- He sleeps in my room, sometimes. I know you all know that. Emphasis on ‘sleeps’, by the way,” you sputtered. You weren’t about to admit you’d accidentally peeked in on him changing.

“Still doesn’t really explain-“ Bob stood up and lifted his shirt. Your eyes went wide as you now got a full view of his abdomen, right next to your face.

“Well would you look at that,” Bucky said with an impressed face.

“Robert! You are already like bear. But in deer clothing. Very good strategy,” Alexei slapped him on his back.

Bob flushed red, clearly embarrassed he’d just done that. He lowered his shirt and sat back down, poking around his plate and not saying anything.

You exchanged a glance with Yelena. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. You frowned and shook your head, communicating with her silently. She nodded and winked back. Whatever that might’ve meant.

Somehow, Bucky did let up about the training, for now.

CHAPTER 11

The taglist is full, sorry!

TAGLIST: @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @hopes-peak-akademy @rattheraddestrat @i-shall-abide @puer-aurea @kennywantskfc69 @spectacled-studies @hiddlebatchedloki @chimchoom @spidermiraculous-blog @s00ty-feet @28cnn @tinythebunni @softpia @roeroeroeyourboet @secretkittydreamland @cultish-corner @greenbean-4ever @t-rexs-world @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @ifilwtmfc @renren-006 @10ava01 @kawaii1369 @hawkinsavclub1983 @paleepeaches @lnmp89 @frozenhuntress67 @my-name-is-baby @a-moranguei @daisyyy47 @petersluvbug @articel1967 @purplefluffycows @midnightecko @lizzylynch1 @keira-kaz2y5 @lightinbug @thefriendlyferretwriter @xblueriddlex @funkyfable @papapappapapapa @darling-eos @neenieweenie @poppingaround @ren-ni @badbishsblog @makepastanotwar13 @spongelll @qardasngan

#robert 'bob' reynolds #bob reynolds x fem!reader #bob reynolds x you #bob reynolds x reader #bob x reader #robert reynolds x you #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds fanfic #robert reynolds #robert reynolds imagine #bob thunderbolts #thunderbolts fanfic #thunderbolts fic #sentry x y/n #sentry x you

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slytherinshua · 4 months ago

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✎　 STUBBORNLY, PATIENTLY 　( 윤가민 )

genre hurt/comfort , yoon gamin x fem!reader cw spoilers for study group up to episode 8 , the fic takes place during the events of/references events of ep 8 , not proofread wc 1475 request for @lexeees and @candewlsy note slytherinshua kdrama fic era is back too 😼😼😼 i always pull through for my man minhyun and i love study group hehe (i rly need to watch the last few eps lmao) net @kstrucknet

“Shit. We’d be having endless meat at a buffet if we went with the plan.”

You could recognize Jiwu’s annoyed tone from halfway across the Earth.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s fine— the owner said he planned to get a new machine.”

Jun, who somehow took the role of the mediator in more situations than you originally thought possible for the red-haired boy.

“Gochujang, you’re actually the one to blame!” Your eyes drifted to the window of the convenience store, watching Jiwu’s arm fly out to point an accusatory finger at Jun. “Why did you have to be so stubborn?”

Their voices muffled from your ears as your gaze shifted to the left, seeing the figure of your boyfriend slumped over the table. You predicted he might be feeling down today. Last year after exams, he spent the day in his room, not answering your calls. If you were lucky, you’d get a reply to a text, but the occurrences were about as rare as the correct answers on his test. You often schemed with his mother on how to cheer him up, as you both hated to see him in that state. Often the only solution was waiting it out, especially when he refused to open his bedroom door.

This year, however, was different than previous ones. Not only did Gamin have even higher expectations for himself coming into the exam, but he was also surrounded by friends who didn’t quite understand the pressures Gamin put on himself yet. As his expectations climbed higher, he also had a steeper way down to fall when they were crushed yet again. He needed something to ground him— and that wasn’t going to happen surrounded by the loud voices of Jun and Jiwu bickering.

The chime of the convenience store bell caught the attention of Sehyeon and Heewon, but the noise wasn’t loud enough to break the dark fog that was clouding Gamin’s head. Your touch usually did the trick, though.

“Hey. Was wondering where you guys might be after exams ended,” you said with a smile, addressing the rest of the group as your hand moved to your boyfriend’s shoulder. He looked up at you, a million thoughts swirling behind those glasses.

“You should’ve come with us, Y/n! We went to the arcade and—”

Heewon’s cheery voice was cut by Jun’s interruption.

“—Gamin absolutely plundered the strength machine, but it was my fault—”

“That all sounds fun, but there was no getting around my part time job today.” Your explanation earned a chorus of hums and nods. Apart from studying with the group, you also worked part time at an animal shelter, caring for stray kittens. Heewon had begged for you to take her to see them sometime soon, and you were fairly sure Sehyeon would want to tag along as well. Everything had just been so hectic leading up to exams that you could barely find time in your schedule.

However, when it came to your boyfriend, you could always find time. And it was clear that Gamin needed some of it today.

“Gamin, let’s go back to my house. You can sleep over tonight. I already told your mom,” you whispered into his ear, hand soothingly rubbing circles on his back. He gave you a curt nod, the saddened expression on his face still not wavering.

“We’ll catch you guys tomorrow, okay?” You helped your boyfriend up and led him out of the store, waving a quick goodbye to your friends.

The walk back to your apartment was silent. You held onto Gamin’s hand tightly as you thought of ways to make him feel better. You’d given him the same talk time and time again. He knew how important he was to you, that he had value in your eyes no matter what he did. But, to him, having his hard work give him the same underwhelming results year after year ate away at his motivation. It would be tiring for anyone. Sometimes you weren’t even sure how he still bounced back days later.

Your apartment always smelled comforting to Gamin. Hours had been spent here together— studying, talking, laughing, kissing. There was something freeing about hanging out at your house, like it was hidden away from the rest of the world. You lived alone, and it was nice to get out of the way of the adults sometimes.

The same routine fell into place the moment Gamin stepped inside the door. He didn’t have to think hard for his legs to lead him to your bedroom, or for his body to fall onto your bed. Your familiar ceiling allowed some of the most comforting memories to flood back to his brain. The first time he saw you, or your first kiss. Every time he had been there to comfort you, and every time you had helped him study.

You soon joined him, laying down right next to him, your head resting on your outstretched arm and your eyes gazing at him with concern. You wondered what was going through his mind at the moment as his body lay completely still and soft even breaths escaped his slightly parted lips. The silence was gentle but delicate. At any moment it would crack and things would break. You could sense it. But you waited until it was time, hoping that now the little action of seeing your face and feeling the comfort of your soft mattress would be enough to start working away at the storm the day had rained down on him.

“Gamin,” your utterance was barely above a whisper. His eyes glanced at you and then settled back up at the ceiling. If he looked at you for too long, he was sure his resolve would break. “I love you. Remember what I said? A big change will happen eventually. Just be steady.”

Sometimes you felt like you were repeating the same words over and over again, unsure if they would really help him. But you would never give up on him. You’d always be right by his side, being his comfort, being his strength when he gave out.

“I know you. You’re so patient, Gamin.” At the call of his name for the second time your fingers brushed his wrist. Hands finding each other once again and all at once his persistence fell.

Gamin never cried. It was almost unnatural to him. Every hardship had to be faced with a smile and unbreaking tenacity. He couldn’t pinpoint the last time he had truly cried. Not that he hadn’t struggled or felt pain or felt like giving up. But rarely were the circumstances so that he felt comfortable enough to do it. Only with you. Only when you were the sole person there to see him.

His tears rolled down the side of his cheek slowly. He was still quiet through it all. The only sign being his grip on your hand tightening, almost desperately wanting to hold you closer.

You often watched your boyfriend, observing his eyes or his lips or his hands as he focused on something. His quirks and motions kept pulling you in. You didn’t know it was possible to be so mesmerized by a single person before you met Gamin. His determination, his drive, his resilience— there was so much about him that was admirable if you looked beneath the surface. Yet he had always been ignored and pushed aside for his grades and intelligence in school. He was dropped into a box that didn’t fit him, confined to a space that only restricted him further. But Gamin loved studying; he loved learning. It was something no one could take away from him, even as the world beat down on his back, testing to see when he would give up and finally stop trying.

But he wouldn’t. Gamin’s stubbornness was both his strength and weakness. It hurt, but it made him who he was.

As he wept silently in your arms, melting ever closer to your embrace, you could only feel pride simmering in you at his hard work. His effort would pay off in due time. You knew it would. For now, he would have to continue being patient, lingering at the feeling of the sweet kisses you gave him as comfort until a day when he felt a bit stronger to stand on his own.

As his tears dried and quick soft kisses were pressed to his warm skin and lips that he could barely muster the energy to reciprocate, he tried to smile. Tried. Moments like these were usually something he enjoyed. Quiet comfort with you holding him so close. But it was still hard to ignore the sickening lurch in his stomach from anxiety at the thought of exam results. It seemed like this time of the year would never get easier for him.

k-drama taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @candewlsy,, @cosmicwintr,, @blossominghunnie,, @parkjennykim,, @seunghancore,, @emmylksblog,, @bananabubble,, @hrtsvivis,, @hursheys,, @lexeees,, @cupidslovearrows

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gibberishfangirl · 1 year ago

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WIND BREAKER | my brother in christ, you are scaring the hoes

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of everyone confusing your friendship for a relationship

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! hardcore crushing, blushing, dramatic behavior, silly content of the boys having a crush on you and you being oblivious to what’s happening

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

✿ you both had no idea about the rumors, sakura only found out through his friends

✿ “wow sakura, why do you get so flustered around couples. don’t you and (y/n) do the same thing?” “WHAT?”

✿ he doesn’t tell you about it, his whole face burns up to a painful degree at the idea of you two being together

✿ hates how much he doesn’t mind the idea of you two being together

✿ he’s more nervous around you and you have no idea why

✿ unintentionally plays into the rumors by being more protective of you

✿ the whole experience opens his eyes to the fact that he sees you more than just a friend

✿ cannot stop thinking about how it’d be like to your boyfriend

✿ takes offense to anyone who tries to hit on you moving forward

✿ yeah you two aren’t actually together but everyone thinks you are. which means people think they’re hitting on his gf which isn’t cool with him at all

✿ doesn’t really understand where the interpretation came from (as if you two aren’t always on dates and hanging out alone)

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

✿ he figured those kind of rumors would have spread around sooner or later

✿ isn’t too bothered by them and doesn’t correct or address them

✿ who cares if people think your dating? if it keeps you safer he’s fine with it

✿ you started to notice something was up when valentine’s day was coming up and no one had asked you out

✿ you always at least got a chocolate or something but this year, nothing. which made you feel bummed out

✿ he was actually really irritated by the fact that you were upset no one was trying to pursue you

✿ jealous jealous boy

✿ he’s well aware of his feelings towards you but underestimated how much he likes you

✿ definitely keeps every other guy away from you on purpose

✿ he will smile sweetly when your looking at him but as soon as you have your back turned and another man is looking at you, he’s glaring at them

✿ the rumors actually made you feel more flustered than him

✿ once you two got asked how long you’ve been going out you were the stuttering mess and he was calm and happy answering their question

✿ the rumors actually started to motivate him to making his feelings known to you

✿ slow burn but he doesn’t mind how long it’ll take for you two to be together

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

✿ he’s flattered by the rumors and politely tells people you’re just friends

✿ lowkey proud that people believe he can get such a pretty girlfriend

✿ even though you both shut down the rumors quickly people still can’t help but think how cute you two would be together

✿ yeah you’re just officially known as that one couple that are dating but don’t know they’re dating yet

✿ at some point you two just gave up at correcting people and went with the flow

✿ you two seriously were dating but didn’t know it

✿ the realization hit him one night and he couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week

✿ you’re still unsure of what feelings you have towards him since he’s the only guy friend you’ve ever had

✿ he doesn’t mind waiting for you and is okay with taking things slow despite knowing his own feelings

✿ you’re painfully oblivious to your own feelings and his feelings

✿ worst case scenario of gaslighting yourself into thinking “no he doesn’t like me, he’s just being nice.”

✿ constant dates that aren’t official dates

✿ you both can’t help but think “this wouldn’t be so bad” during them

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

✿ of course he knows about the rumors, he’s the one who started them

✿ okay, he didn’t necessarily go around telling people you were together but he didn’t correct them

✿ he didn’t correct them on purpose

✿ doesn’t have much of an excuse, he just likes how nice it sounds for you to be called his

✿ no one ever bothered to ask you about it since Togame was always with you anyways

✿ you had some airhead moments whenever people flat out complimented you two as a couple

✿ “aw, you two look so cute and happy together.” “thank you!!” you’d smile in return and then look at Togame and say “did you hear that? she thinks we’re cute friends, how nice!”

✿ once you found out people thought you two were together you were super flustered and ran to go tell Togame the shocking news

✿ “JO- did you know people think we’re dating !???!!!” “no way.” “it’s crazy right? i had no idea!” “me neither.”

✿ anyone who had eyes could tell what was happening and knew Togame had a crush on you by just seeing the way he looks at you

✿ too bad you aren’t just anybody

✿ strangely enough, you didn’t mind being confused for a couple it made you happy in some way

✿ no confessions happened but this definitely opened your eyes to your own feelings about your friend

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

✿ someone save this man, he’s hopeless in the cutest way possible

✿ he was also under the impression that you two were together

✿ sure neither one of you ever actually asked the other out or confessed but did that really matter?

✿ he was more surprised to find out you two weren’t together

✿ “what?! people think we’re dating? Choji’s just a friend.” you’d exclaimed to a friend who came up to you two and finally asked if you were official.

✿ “just a friend??? i thought we were doing so well together.” “what are you talking about?” you’d look at him with the most confused expression

✿ he was confused as to why you were confused

✿ you were left absolutely dumbfounded

✿ you were completely unaware to his feelings, you’d assume he was just being nice the entire time

✿ he practically treats you and Togame the same, how were you supposed to know it was more than a friendship

✿ his confession that wasn’t much of a confession had you blushing madly, how are you so bad at reading signals??

✿ no, you were not gaslighted into thinking you two were together this whole time

✿ “wait so let me get this clear… we aren’t dating?” he’d ask for what felt like the millionth time

✿ “no! you need to ask me out like an actual person, not just assume we’re dating because we hang out a lot.”

✿ it was definitely a longgg day for you

#divider by anitalenia #sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #hayato suo #suo hayato x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #choji tomiyama #choji tomiyama x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader

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voidlesscreator · 1 year ago

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Alfred's Relative??

It had been three days since the letter addressed to Alfred had come through the mail. From what Alfred had told them, it was a letter from his father saying that he would be stopping by the manor to visit him.

Tim had wanted to run checks on the letter since it was ‘suspicious’ that Alfred’s father was only writing to him now and was planning on visiting, but the old butler shut it down fairly quickly by telling him about how his father was busy and unable to send any letters or call for years.

Since neither Tim nor anyone else in the batfam had any reason to doubt Alfred’s words on the matter it was quickly dropped, though they were all waiting for the day the butler’s father turned up to see who raised the man who kept them all- in his best ability- alive.

— — — —

The day was like most others, Damian was busy tending to his pets early that morning, Tim was awake for the whole night and had crashed with his laptop still running his research despite him being out cold. Jason was staying the night due to Alfred’s insistence and was getting ready to leave when the doorbell of the manor rang out.

Since Jason was closer to the door than Alfred, who was busy in the kitchen prepping food for the rest of the manor’s residents, Jason went to open the door. He had heard from Dick about Alfred’s father coming to visit, so the doorbell ringing was most likely him.

From how old Alfred was, he was honestly expecting some frail old man, that would be a more likely choice then dead- which is obviously not the case if he is supposed to be visiting.

…

Jason was wrong apparently, because there was no way that this young man with a build similar to Bruce’s but more lean was Alfred’s father- there was no way.

“Can I help you?” Jason quirked an eyebrow as the man looked at him in surprise(was that concern mixed in there?) before snapping out of that look.

“Ah! Sorry, I sent a letter to my son a few days ago that I would be visiting- Is Alfred here?” The man gave Jason a smile -with clearly too-sharp teeth. This was a record scratch to Jason, quite literally since the man looked like he was Dick’s age, maybe a bit older but still.

“Wait what-”

“Master Jason, who may be at the door this early in the morning?” Alfred’s voice sounded out behind him, and there was a brief moment when Jason was turning to look at the butler where there was a sudden gust of wind before he saw the man at the door now hugging Alfred who was halfway across the foyer.

“Oh my Ancients! You’ve grown so much since I last saw you little Alf!” The man squealed as he began looking Alfred over. It was… an odd sight to see, especially when the man in question was his apparent father but looked half his age.

“Ah- yes father. It has been a few years” Alfred was still as collected as he usually was when he spoke, but it was clear that he was comfortable despite the man pinching his cheeks and cooing with an almost inhuman trill to his voice.

What in the Lazarus pits is this guy’s deal?

#dc x dp #danny phantom #alfred pennyworth #danny phantom x dc #dc comics #alfred is danny's son #jason todd #danny is a himbo but ancient #danny could rival bruce's brucie himbo persona

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gloxk · 2 years ago

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Please give us sum eren & armin toxic hc Like armin and eren would be two different types of toxic. Ex!boyfriend eren blowing ur back out n sending it to ur bf or whoever ur talking to n ex!boyfriend armin not being able to take you talking to someone else so he fucks you a party or smth idk go crazy. 🤰🏾.

“Yeah my ex is crazy.”

A/N: No bc they are two completely different types of toxic. Like idk how to explain it? I js feel like eren is the type of ex to be petty and trifling. But armin..omg..armin goes off the fucking deep end. But i love my lil psychos🤭.

WARNING!: A lil fluff , toxic behavior, unhealthy relationships, smut, unprotected s*x, Blackmailing, Mentions of offing someone, obsession, controlling, plus other things . +17 mdni

EREN! Please for the love of god don’t let Eren find out you fucking with someone else. This man will go from nonchalant to crazy. “Oh word? This what we doing?”. He disregards the fact yall broke up a whole month ago.

He would definitely blow up your phone after seeing a post on instagram. “Who is he?” & “He fuck you better then me?”. Oh and please don’t tell him yes. Because let me warn you. He will be right there at that door knocking.

“You know you fucking lyin. But ight we gon see.” He hung up the phone and you laughed at him. Who gave this man an ego? Did he really think he was the only man with good dick?

You were confused when you heard a knock on your door but to your surprise, it was eren. “What the fuck?” he pushed right passed you walking into your apartment. “Nah, don’t fucking play with me y/n.” You could tell he was pissed just by his voice.

This man wasted no time bending you over the couch and fucking you right there.

“Nobody could fuck you better the me.” He grabbed a fists full of your hair pulling you up to his mouth.“You belong to me. Don’t ever let me find out there’s someone other than me fucking you like this.” and to be quite frank, nobody could fuck you like eren.

Eren talked you through the whole thing. He knew he was rough with you, but god he couldn’t help it. So that’s why he praised you for taking his dick so well <3.

He took out his phone and pressed record. His hard thrust drove lewd moans from your lips. “Fuck right there!” you screamed every time his hips slapped your ass. He made sure he got glimpse of your face so the guy knew it was you. He made sure you screamed his name just to prove who you belonged to.

You got so many miss calls while eren fucked you to sleep. Every time ole boy called eren went faster. <3

You woke up alone, your bed empty. Your phone notifications were through the roof. Over 100 notifications from that guy. It was crazy. But a simple text from eren stuck out. “Let me hear word about you fucking w some again. Next time ima put em in a casket.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking or not. But one thing you did know was he made every threat a promise. And he always kept his promises.

ARMIN! Lawd, you let armin find out you even thought about some one else fucking you, it was over.

This man went full psychotic when word got to him about you talking to someone guy. Apparently you were at a party grinding all up against him.

The first thing armin did was collect every drop of information he had on this guy. His home address, His mother’s facebook, His phone number, Job number. He knew too much on the fucker who decided to touch his pretty “girlfriend”.

It pissed him off, how dare you try to replace him. He blew up your phone to the point it crashed. “That’s so fucking cute, y/n. You think that you can just go fuck some other guy?” , “Please don’t make me do something crazy.” . The crazy part was you didn’t even fuck the guy, he was just fucking crazy. He always assumed you were cheating for some reason.

When you didn’t answer his calls he pulled up expeditiously. if you didn’t answer within the 30 minute window he wouldn’t wait to show up to your door.

“Y/n open this goddamn door.” He banged on the door. It was 2 am- oh yeah he knew you had work later, he didn’t care.

As soon as you open the door an argument ensued. “Pick up the fucking phone when I call you y/n” He yelled at you slamming the door behind him. “You ain’t my fucking boyfriend Armin. Ion gotta do shit.”

He never made you regret your words so fast. His nails dug into your hips as his pace increased. “Ain’t yo fucking boyfriend huh? Then why you letting me fuck you raw?”

Your bed was a mess after he made you cum over and over again. After he was done all you could do was mumble incoherently ‘Nobody is better then you’. He was rough but his after care made up for it <3.

He kissed your forehead before he nuzzled into your chest. “You’re the best I ever had.” he soon fell asleep after those words left his mouth.

I love my cute lil crazy guys <3

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souredgrape · 2 months ago

Text

Fake a** Friends

George Clarke x (Fem)reader

WC: 4.1k

Synopsis: in a tight knit group of friends, there’s always one bad egg. However she just can’t seem to let her obsession with a certain man go. The same man you’ve liked for years.

Warning: bullying behaviour. Swearing. Obsessive behaviour. Alcoholism. Smoking. Willne being the no.1 wingman. James being himself.

Sitting in your living room, you were helping Rebecca do her roots, apparently the hairdresser was closed. So you ‘had to do it’ , as she had said. For the past hour you had been listening to her ranting about all the boys she’d be dating recently. You were exhausted. Both of your phones pinged simultaneously, an alert from the group chat. Rebecca looked.

“It’s Georgie!” She squealed, unlocking her phone. “Oh my god he’s invited us all out tonight!” You hummed in response to her loud voice.

“Where?” You asked, pinning up the last of her bleached hair.

“Uhm an Italian restaurant, he’s sent the address. Then he said drinks afterwards. Everyone is gonna be there.” Rebecca told you, replying to him in a sickly way then tossing her phone onto the couch. “I gotta look hot.” She said, looking right at you. “I know you probably don’t own anything sexy, so we can go to mine when you’re ready yeah?” The slight dig was nothing new to you, so you just nod, telling her how long she had on her hair. “I have to wear red, oh and it has to be tight. I need him to ogle me all night.” Rebecca smiled to herself, daydreaming about George like she did most days.

“What about Dan?” You questioned, reminding her of a man she’d been on a date with that week. Rebecca just rolled her eyes, hitting your arm playfully.

“That’s just fun. George is the man I want. And I know he wants me to.” She was so confident. You gave a fake smile, ignoring your own sadness. Because she was probably right. You’d had a stupid crush on him for a while, but you were nothing compared to her. She was curvy in all the right places, a blonde with bright green eyes, her lips and lashes were done. It’s what most guys wanted nowadays.

Whilst she was washing out the bleach, you hunted through your wardrobe, trying to find something nice for the evening. You wandered why you were even trying. With a sigh, you pulled out a dress, looking at it before putting it back. Then you spied a new item you had recently bought. A short black, leather skirt. Yeah, that could work. To go with it you pulled out a long sleeve, off the shoulder top in a colour that would compliment the leather well. Getting dressed, you looked in the mirror, the skirt hugged your hips, the top was tight to your figure too. It was part classy, but nice enough to know you were going out. With this, you put on your boots, tying up the laces when Rebecca came out of the bathroom. She looked you up and down with amusement before shaking her head.

“Do your make up at mine?” It was more of a demand than a question, but you nod nonetheless. “You look adorable by the way.” Rebecca smiled patronisingly.

———

At Rebecca’s house, you were sat at her dresser, applying your makeup carefully.

“How about this?” Rebecca came into the room wearing a fitted, short red dress. It left little to the imagination, with her breasts hanging out and her ass peaking out the bottom. You thought maybe it was a little too revealing for dinner but, if she was happy.

“Yeah it’s nice.” Rebecca scoffed at your compliment, applying a little more red lipstick.

“Nice? It’s not just nice, I look amazing.” She looked over. “Pink eyeshadow? Really?” She asked, looking at you critically. You frowned, holding the brush midair. Letting out a soft breath, you finished off your make up and sat waiting for her. Rebecca was doing a thick Smokey eye, a bold red lip. A little too much for a casual Thursday. But who were you to judge? It took over an hour but she finally finished and you both began walking into town. Rebecca stopped just outside the restaurant, pulling out her perfume and proceeding to spray herself far too many times. You coughed, stepping back. “Oh stop being so dramatic. It’s just vanilla.” She rolled her eyes before walking inside, you following shortly behind. A waiter lead you both to a table in the window, where George was sat with another two mutual friends. Rebecca rushed over. “Hi guys!” She squealed. The group looked up, wincing slightly. George stood, getting out of the booth and giving Rebecca a polite hug in greeting.

“Hey, you’re late.” He chuckled, helping her to sit down in his previous seat. You stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“Well look at me, this takes time you know?” Rebecca swished her hair right in Wills face. George turned to you with a smile, swiftly pulling you into a hug as well. You hugged back, relaxing, all the tension that had built up over the day just faded away.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, not pulling away just yet. You hummed, nodding slowly. George looked at you unconvinced, but let it go and guided you to sit on the seat opposite to the others. He slid in beside you, handing you a menu then retrieving his drink.

“Why aren’t you sat next to me Georgie?” Rebecca asked with a pout, making Will and your other friend, Lisa, look at her funny. George hardly looked up from his menu.

“I’m comfortable here thanks.” You could see that she was annoyed, and you opted to look at the food options as well. “See, should I be really boring and get pizza, or step it up a notch and get the-“ he paused, pursing his lips “-Brand-…brandacujun…” you laughed at his poor pronunciation.

“What is it?” You moved a bit closer, following his finger to where he was looking.

“Dried cod and potato’s.” He drawled, glancing at you with a knowing look. “I’m getting pizza.” You both laughed. Shaking your head, you sat back and placed your menu down.

“I’m probably gonna get the tomato pasta.” You said, getting a nod of approval from Will opposite you.

“Are you finally trying to bulk?” Rebecca questioned. You turned to her confused. “You’ve just gotten really thin lately, that’s all.” She shrugged, whilst you sat there a little shocked. Instead of replying, you checked your phone, not noticing the shared look of disapproval from Will and George.

A waiter had brought your drinks and food, now everyone sat eating quietly. The only noticeable noise was Rebecca’s long nails clicking her phone aggressively. George looked up from his Pizza.

“Who are you talking to? You’re gonna break your phone screen.” He laughed a bit, gaining the tables attention. You put your fork down, wiping your lips free of tomato sauce.

“Oh uh, no one.” Rebecca quickly put her phone away.

“Oh I see, boyfriend?” George wiggled his brows but was met with a deep scowl from the girl opposite.

“As if! I only have eyes for one man!” She declared. You rolled your eyes, wondering if anyone believed her lies. Will leant over, talking into her ear quietly. “Shut up! That’s not true!” Rebecca yelled with anger, slapping Will on the shoulder rather harshly. However Will just chuckled at that, before looking at you. Confused, you tilted your head but he just shook his head in dismissal. George sat back, his arm resting on the back of the booth behind you. You froze slightly, unsure of what to do. Rebecca was glaring daggers at you.

“Ignore her.” George muttered, tossing his used napkin on his plate. Letting out a breath, you rested back, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I like your outfit.” He grinned, shocking you slightly. Gazing up at the man, you blushed slightly.

“Thank you.” You replied sheepishly, playing with the rings on your fingers, causing George to notice. He shifted closer, gently touching the ring on your index finger. It was a simple silver band with a black stone in the centre.

“This is nice.”

“It was my mums.” You clarified with a smile. George simpered, the hand that was on the booth, coming to rest on your shoulder.

“You’re coming for drinks next right? We’re going to that pub that’s just been done up, booked us a table so we’ll definitely have a seat.” George knew of your anxiety, clearly trying his best to persuade you. And it worked because you found yourself nodding. “Good, I’ll make sure you’re sat next to me.” It was as if he were protecting you, but you weren’t sure why.

“Fuck off Will!” Rebecca suddenly shouted, making everyone look at them. The Geordie put his hands up in surrender.

“Stop saying that shit then.” He shot back. You were confused, but Lisa asked for the bill before you could question anything. Her boyfriend was on his way, she’d said so just before the food arrived. The bill was split and everyone got up ready to leave. George took your hand, helping you down from the higher booth. However, he kept your hand in his grasp as your little group began walking down the street. He looked down at you with a cheeky grin.

“This is fine right?” You nod softly, inching just a little closer. Up ahead, Rebecca looked back at you with a look so cold it almost made you flinch. Instinctively, you tightened your hold on George’s hand, which he noticed and tugged you towards him.

Will cheered as the pub came into view, and Lisa ran up to her boyfriend happily. When you went inside, George gave his name and you were lead to a table in the back, by a lit fire. It was cosy, the seat against the wall being cushioned, the chairs opposite mahogany. Quickly, George ushered you into the side against the wall, slipping in beside you. Will sat across from you again, letting out a quiet groan when Rebecca took the space on the other side of George. Lisa’s boyfriend was clearly confused, sitting by Will and listening to the man as he told him something under his breath. You watched them with furrowed brows, wanting to know what the issue was.

“I’ll go to the bar, anyone wanna help me?” Lisa asked hopefully, Will piped up quickly.

“Rebecca will.” She looked at him annoyed but got up and went regardless. You took the chance to lean forward.

“What’s going on?” You questioned lowly. Will shared a look with George.

“She’s getting on our nerves. She’s obsessed with George, it’s fuckin’ creepy man.” He explained. You sat back slowly, looking around for a moment. “Don’t tell us you didn’t know?” Will scoffed with amusement.

“No I know she has a crush on him.” You said, tapping your nails against the wooden table. “I guess I just thought the feeling was mutual.” You admitted, looking from Will to George. He raised his brows in surprise.

“Oh my god, she’s got no chance.” Will laughed, as if it was the most obvious thing to say.

“What?”

“(Y/n), she’s insane.” George looked right at you trying not to laugh.

“Yeah but she’s pretty.” All three of the men sat there started laughing, your eyes widening.

“She’s fake, and toxic. A new man every week. Her lips are about to pop. She’s not pretty, she’s plastic.” George shook his head as he spoke. “And she had the nerve to comment on your body? Ridiculous.” You went a little red, looking down at yourself for a second. “Does she always say things like that?” He turned to you, and you went very quiet. George looked deep into your eyes, but you couldn’t respond as the girls came back with drinks. Your silence was your answer though. Taking your drink, you sipped on the straw, deciding that the fire was more interesting to look at now. Rebecca was being very giggly, moving insanely close to George. It was clear he was uncomfortable. You frowned, sitting forward and watching them interact for a second.

“(Y/n).” Will spoke quietly, gaining your attention. “He doesn’t want her.” He whispered, taking a drink of his beer. You stared at him, trying to read between the lines.

“I’m going for a vape, anyone coming?” No one responded to Rebecca, so she looked at you. “(Y/n)? You’ll come with me.” It was more of a demand than a question. Unmoved, you shook your head firmly. Her jaw tightened, as she left out the back door in a huff.

“Why does she smell like a coffee?” George wafted his hand around in the air. You giggled slightly, turning towards him again.

“A hundred sprays of Kayali.”

“Oh it’s vile.” He shivered, then smiled at you. “Are you cold? You’ve got goosebumps.” He noticed, gently touching your shoulder. You shrugged softly.

“I’ll be fine. Old pubs are cold.” George hummed at what you said, but still, he moved forward and wrapped his arm around you. You went stiff for a moment, but allowed yourself to relax. They were finally starting to notice that Rebecca really wasn’t that nice. So, maybe you could allow yourself to enjoy this treatment. When you finally leant against George’s chest, and picked up your drink, finally just relaxed, the man was beaming. Will gave him a nod of approval, clicking their beer glasses together. George gave your waist a gently squeeze as you all settled into a comfortable conversation.

———

“-no that was James not me!” Will breathed in defiance, the rest of the table laughing at him.

“No im pretty sure you’re the one who stood there blushing like an idiot.” George cackled, his fingers tracing idle lines on your side.

“One, I was not blushing, two, he called me babe!” Will exasperated, finishing his beer off.

“I dunno man, I say you both just kiss and get it over with.” When George said that, Will gave him a very pointed look.

“You can’t talk.” The two men looked at each other challengingly for a while. Lisa shook her head and you both giggled. Coming back from the bathroom, Lisa’s boyfriend took a seat and said.

“Rebecca is still in the beer garden. She’s chatting with some forty year old bloke?” He let the group know, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest. Placing your empty glass down, you sighed.

“Maybe she bumped into Dan.”

“Who’s Dan?” Lisa asked, standing and picking up your glass.

“Her hinge date from last week. He’s like thirty eight. Seems lovely though. She giggles every time he texts…” you trailed off, realising that Rebecca most likely had very real feelings for the older man, she just didn’t know it herself.

“That’s great for her.” George said.

“It is, but she’s so caught up in fancying you that I don’t think she knows.” Will made a noise of agreement at what you said, and George pouted slightly.

“You’ve gotta prove to her that you’re off limits.” Will decided whilst getting up to help Lisa. George, thinking deeply, rested his chin on your shoulder. You didn’t flinch, but you did smile and let yourself admire his side profile. You always thought he had pretty eyes.

“I think I can do that.” He mumbled, looking around the pub. “You don’t mind if we pop out for a smoke break do you mate?” George looked across at the man who was carefully watching his girlfriend at the bar.

“‘Course not. Go ahead.” With a grin, George pulled you up and guided you towards the front door of the pub, out into the brisk night air.

“You don’t smoke? Neither do I?” You were understandably confused. He walked forward, sitting himself on the brick wall that surrounded the building. You stood in front of him, his hair slightly messed up from where he kept playing with it. Naturally, you reached out and fixed it.

“I know, just wanted to talk to you.” George confessed, placing his hands on your waist and tugging you to stand between his legs. You blushed, but kept calm and looked down at him. “You never answered me, when I asked if Rebecca always spoke to you like that?” He pressed gently, thumb moving against your side tenderly. Wetting your lips, you avoided his blue eyes like the plague.

“Yeah, sometimes.” You let out, but he wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“What does she say?”

“Lots of things.” You scoffed, tucking your hair behind your ears. “It’s usually just patronising shit. Like saying I look adorable or that I just don’t understand because I’ve never had a boyfriend.” George stared up at you intently, subtly drawing you in. “Or that I’m unattractive. You know, men don’t like girls like me, stuff like that.”

“That’s a lie.” He said matter of factly, catching you off guard. When your eyes met again, he let out a small sigh. “She’s such a bitch.”

“She’s our friend George.” You reasoned but he just frowned.

“I don’t want friends like her, that constantly bring you down. That leech off of us and think they’re better than us.” He brought you closer, if possible. “She has the chance to be happy with that man she’s with. Let her figure it out.” George kept his eyes on you as he spoke. You knew he was right, but you still felt a little bad for her. Noticing your mood, George swiftly pulled you down into his embrace. You melted, hugging back immediately. Your arms wound around his neck, burying your face in alongside. Somehow, George guided you to perch on his thigh, his hand rubbing up and down your back. You both stayed like that for a moment, the drama of the table forgotten, not even the cold was bothering you now. He pulled back from the hug, just a little, looking at you with a soft smile.

“What?”

“You’re just pretty.” George smirked, your cheeks warming in a flash. Cupping your cheek, he tilted your chin down, bringing your face just centimetres from his own. Suddenly you felt as though you knew exactly what Will was trying to tell you earlier. Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly leant in. Meeting him half way, you pressed your lips to his, any apprehension you had fizzling away. The kiss was soft and timid at first, testing the waters. It was clear very quickly that you both wanted what was happening, however. George deepened the kiss, his fingers threading through your hair carefully, bringing you flush against him. When you parted, your foreheads rested together, quiet giggles shared between you.

“Think that’ll show her I’m not interested?” George asked smugly, a small scoff escaping you.

“Yeah maybe just a bit.” His thumb stroked your cheek tenderly.

“But you know I like you right?”

“I kinda just got that…” you admitted, leaning into his larger hand, enjoying the warmth.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep showing you.” George mumble before kissing you once more. It was laced with confidence, lips moving together with passion and understanding. His hold on you was tight, kissing you with purpose. The outside world was a blur now, the noise of the night completely fading out. A deep cough unfortunately broke your trance. When you looked up, you were both surprised to see James looking down at you.

“Hey guys.” He had a shit-eating grin. “Will texted and said he felt like a third wheel, which was confusing at first but uh-“ he looked between you. “-I get it now.” James laughed. You were blushing badly, resorting to hiding your face against George’s shoulder as you both stood up.

“Yeah yeah, eat it up, go on.” George was laughing too, but he was also a little red. “Come on, we’ll take you to your lover.”

“You do not get to tease me when you were making out in the middle of the street!” James exclaimed, following behind you and George, who was still chuckling to himself. You clung onto his arm, smiling. Back at the table, everyone was now sat there, even Rebecca. You stood there anxiously, watching Will and James hug and sit down next to each other. George looked at Rebecca.

“Can you let us pass?” He asked politely, as she looked up at him with her bright green eyes.

“I’m sure you can squeeze past me Georgie.” She cooed, not making any effort to move.

“Rebecca, move.” George tugged you closer, clearly getting annoyed. She huffed, getting up to let you both into the seats. George went first, which you were happy about as you didn’t want him next to her. As you passed, Rebecca let her foot stick out, just enough for you to tumble over it. George was quick to react, catching you under the arms and pulling you next to him. “How old are you? Five?” He wrapped his arm around your waist, hand resting on your hip protectively. Rebecca watched, brows furrowed and jaw clenched whilst she sat beside you. Deciding to ignore her, you leant against George and sipped on your fresh drink.

A bit of time passed with little issue, just a few short glares from the blonde. George was extra clingy, but you loved it. His arms were constantly around your middle, his head resting on your shoulder, face sometimes nuzzling your neck. You’d never felt more content in public. For the most of it, you’d been wrapped up in conversation with James for the past twenty minutes, Will and George watching you both fondly. It was nice. To put it simply.

“He looks like a lovesick puppy.” James chortled, pointing at George. Will nod in agreement, putting his pint down.

“Yeah look at ‘im, pining after her.” You blushed at his words, messing with your straw.

“Don’t go shy on us now, you were literally kissing in front of the whole street.” James smirked, causing Will to gasp.

“They did! Fucking finally man. Do you know how long I’ve been listening to him talk about her?”

“Right there’s no need to call me out like that!” George sputtered, a small smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but giggle, finding it endearing. “I could get right back at you and you know it.”

“You wouldn’t.” Will looked worried. James looked confused.

“What? There’s a new girl you’re into?” The tall man asked lowly.

“Actually it’s-“

“Don’t you fucking dare man.” Will cut him off with haste and you quickly caught on, starting to laugh. George beamed, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. You pulled a face.

“Beer.”

“Oh sorry I don’t drink sparkly strawberry drinks like you.” He chuckled, poking your nose softly. You simpered, leaning into him and resting your head on his chest with a content sigh.

“That’s it. I’m leaving.” Rebecca declared, standing up and making the table rock. Everyone looked at her with bewilderment. She turned to you, rage clouding her vision. “You’re such a fake friend, you know that (y/n)?”

“What?” You said, frowning. She laughed falsely, downing the rest of her drink before slamming the glass down.

“You knew I liked him and yet you went behind my back and got with him! You’re such a whore!” Your heart sank at her worlds, mouth going a little dry. Everyone on the table looked at the girl as if she had two heads. George turned you away from her, his arms encasing you protectively.

“Just go. We won’t miss you.” He spat, not even bothering to look at her. Rebecca gaped, not expecting such a cold response from him.

“Y’ never had a chance man.” Will laughed, waving at her with a cocky grin. With an infuriated screech, Rebecca turned and stormed out of the pub. Everyone sat there silently for a moment, before a feeling of calm washed over the table. “Thank fuck for that.” Will spoke first, and everyone laughed a little. Even you.

“You okay?” George asked, running his fingers through your hair. You nod, letting out a breath and feeling yourself relax. “I think we should block her.”

“I’m with you on that, let her be happy with her dilf.” Will decided, pulling his phone out already. You giggled at your friends, their support warming you inside. George kissed your head softly, returning you both to your original position. Everyone around you was so positive, Will had your back the whole night. James was ecstatic to see you with George, even if he did tease you. And George was attached to you now. It was perfect. He even took your phone, blocking Rebecca from your socials. You did hope she’d be happy, in the end. Either way, you were pretty happy with how things were heading. <3

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