#People wonder why I don't feel like a fucking adult

[dontcallpanic]

I love these points SO, So much! I was sat here going yes, yes, exactly! Yes!

Poor Derek not knowing how to get a house or a safe space - that really got me actually and I was wondering if it was also linked to not wanting to have too many good things. So if he has a house or a space he likes, when he inevitably looses it (in his mind) that feels so much worse than somewhere he doesn't care about so much being destroyed. Imagine getting to the point where he restored the Hale House and then it got torn down again... Ffffddd

Also Fuji your point about him having to take out Peter to protect Scott makes so much sense! But also oh god imagine having to be in that position where you have to kill your last remaining family member (from his perspective) to protect this guy that keeps getting you arrested and blaming you for literally everything! I was also wondering about it becoming one of those goals you get fixated on. Like yeah if I can only just get through X or if I can just get more powerful, if I can get stronger, if I can get better, then I can fix it all, then the problem will go away, then I can protect everyone.

Oh also - did you know there are more F's to the trauma response list - some of which I think also fit Derek. They're Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fuck, Friend and Flop. It's to take into account how we often have to play nice, or fuck or play along with perpetrators just to survive. To account for the fact that behaviour can externally look like one thing but internally the motivations are /extremely/ different. And again we don't get a choice in what our brain will select. It's just whatever it decides is our best chance of survival. And again it's definitely not going to look well adjusted, because it's not exactly a well adjusted situation. It's already deeply fucked up.

Oh and Derek having to show that he's useful just to be allowed to exist always breaks my heart. You put this SO Well. Being useful I would guess feels safe to him. You can also see him doing the needing people/pack but being so terrified of loosing them or hurting them that he pushes them away first pattern that you would totally do if you had been through all that. And then throws his own body and life around like some kind of wrecking ball because neither things are of high value in his mind.

Also your line about pleading with Stiles and Scott to stay alive by saying how useful he is totally broke me. You're spot on with that and it's just tragic.

I'm genuinely staggered by the lack of empathy and understanding but I was also thinking about what Pdxtrent said about him being one of the best representations of trauma in media (and I totally agree) and in a really awful way it kind of makes sense that he wouldn't get a lot of empathy or sympathy because real life survivors get treated this way all the time too. His response feels so True to life, it garners a true to life response from many people. Especially because he doesn't play the victim (and I love that for him) most people/survivors dont - actually! Again, you can't always tell motivations just by watching someone's outward behaviour - although you can obviously get a good idea, but there's also a whole internal world driving that behaviour that you can't see. I feel that this is where Derek is at - and at least past of the reason why he's deeply misunderstood.

There's also something there about the extreme expectations placed on young adults but that might be for another time!

Derek Hale has PTSD. I think people tend to forget that he wasn't an ass for the hell of it. He put up a rough asshole front to protect himself. He has the ugly symptoms of PTSD. Does it excuse some of his actions? No. But he does deserve some understanding and empathy.

No matter what age you see him as, he just isn't a 'grown ass man'. He had no idea how to take care of himself. He was still mentally that 15 year old who lost everything and was traumatized beyond reason.

Derek continuously kept being kicked while he was down. The poor guy couldn't catch a break. Like have a heart y'all. He was never a villain. An antagonist at one point, yes. Villain, no.

Trauma literally rewires your brain, and that poor kid got enough trauma before the first episode. Derek needed lots of therapy, he needed friends, and he needed a pack.

Derek could literally trust no one. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He tried his best with what he had, which wasn't much, and he fucked up at times. But he kept trying to do and be better.

[thediktatortot]

.

[artemx746]

Do people not realise that a person doesn't suddenly gain full maturity and knowledge of everything when they turn 18?

[spacemancharisma]

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[fionnaskyborn]

there's something to be said about the very specific feeling of frailty you feel when you come face to face with just how little you've experienced. twenty-odd years on planet earth and you haven't really watched all that many movies. an unlived life facing an uncertain future. i do not know where to point the finger of blame because i live untethered from my past, floating in the present with no clear point of reference no clear definition of who i am or what happened to me and how i turned out the way i am (fucking. can you guess why five is my favorite game. insert that one lyric from that one modest mouse song.) but you're still here, and you can still learn, and you can catch up, but it still feels like you're a pitiful little nobody looking for excuses trying to explain why you're still new to the whole being alive thing. i've got a good head on my shoulders, though, for all that's worth, so i think i might be fine.

in other news, i watched scarface tonight. it was certainly a movie. don't really understand how the movie made it big, but it did have some damn good music. i mean, i don't know. i'm still learning about the world i live in. maybe it really is as much of a masterpiece as people make it out to be and i'm too dumb to see the reason why it's considered a classic. maybe i'm right. i can't tell at the moment. it's kind of a beggars can't be choosers situation - if you ain't watched that many movies, then you can't really be a good judge of quality. but, oh, well. it's one more movie watched. it's a win because i watched a movie. and i'll watch more movies.

[theoogtree]

Sometimes I see a post that's like. stating what has been common knowledge to me for over a decade and I'm sure has been common knowledge to other people for longer as if it's like some hot fresh new Discourse no one's ever talked about yet and it makes me think like. What things am I just starting to realize and learn that other people have known forever. Something something Human Experience of learning and growing is different for us all but happening for us all

[taylor-titmouse]

hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator

i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.

this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.

i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:

DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE

hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.

and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.

you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.

okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.

YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS

good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.

porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!

as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.

while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!

to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!

YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY

hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.

god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!

this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).

okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!

also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.

abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.

I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT

kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.

please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.

as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I (26, NB) dropped a long-term friend (23, not disclosing gender, I'll call them X) for being a proshipper, and now they're trying to get in the way of my other friendships.

A little more than a month ago, an old friend from when I was an itty bitty teen on the internet (we met when they were 12 and I was 15 or so) messaged me on twitter asking if we could share discord since they're more active on that platform, and they missed hanging out. Ok, no prob!! I missed talking to X and life was going kinda icky for me at the time. We exchanged discords and started talking more frequently, before we would talk through twitter dms maybe one day every few months, and we went from almost no contact to talking every single day. It was like being a teenager again; we still shared similar interests and we really fast clicked over old and new fandoms we were in. We talked about college and how they're starting to get the hang of their new job but needed support, talked about our family lives, etc., and in general I felt really comfortable and happy to be chatting again with someone I've known for so long. We were inseparable for weeks.

However... of course, as adults, and having known each other for YEARS, we started talking about fandom ships and fics we enjoyed. We didn't have the same taste in pairings, but that was okay. Until it wasn't anymore.

I shared my NSFW twitter with them, and they followed me. A few minutes later X told me, "I see you have "proship DNI in your bio, I just want to let you know that I am a pro-ship and enjoy some things in fandom that you might think is gross. I hope that's okay."

I was kind of weirded out, and told them that as long as they didn't like anything that would be criminal in real life, that's fine. They told me they *did* enjoy things in fiction that they "wouldn't condone in reality" and even though they "don't talk about it publicly" they still wanted me to know. For some reason. ?? Even though they KNOW that I have an irl history of abuse as a kid, they still told me this.

I was so fucking uncomfortable and really, really sad, and honestly I felt betrayed? I stepped away from my account for like, an hour before messaging them back and saying I didn't want to continue talking to them anymore. That I didn't know they were that kind of person and I'm not comfortable being their friend. I didn't read their response to me because I soft-blocked them.

While I was getting over that and trying to move on, a few days later I was talking to another mutual friend of ours when they asked if I was still friends with X. I got chills remembering how I broke off with them, and said no, we weren't talking anymore. That they were the kind of person that made me really uneasy and uncomfortable to be around. The mutual friend, I'll call R, said that X was "feeling kind of down about losing a friend recently" and talked about it in a discord server they share. X didn't mention my name but R wondered if it was me who dropped them since I was really touchy about boundaries online. I freaked out a little thinking about them talking about me, and asked what else they said, and R told me "not much, just that they felt sad but it was your choice in the end because you two were different" and I don't know why but it left a bad taste in my mouth. Were they trying to make people seem like I was the bad guy or something?? Idk.

I told R the reason why I stopped talking to X, and that X is a proshipper who likes things like inc*st and rape, and R wasn't as supportive as I thought he would be, saying that he understood how I felt but if X was being honest and open about their interests, it probably meant they trusted me and didn't want to "lie" to me. I don't understand how that's even relevant if X is a fucking proshipper. I don't want their trust in the first place if that's who they really are, and I felt betrayed that someone I knew for so long was hiding that for me until we were bonding again. R basically dropped it there and said "idk then" and I told him I was going to shut off my notifs for a bit. I really don't want to talk with him again right now especially since he didn't seem THAT bothered by X being a proshipper who's into really criminal shit.

Since then, friends of mine who are also friends with R (because he's a friend of X still, for some reason), haven't been replying to me as much anymore and I'm super sensitive to noticing these things, at first I told myself it was nothing, but there's an obvious decrease in our interactions. I can't help but think that X actually said bad stuff about me, and R didn't want me to know, or maybe X convinced R that I was a terrible person or something. I still haven't read X's reply to me because I genuinely do not want to interact with them ever again, but for the past few days I've been so angry and hurt by my other friend's actions that I can't help but want to blame them, since this all started when I left them.

AITA for dropping a friend because their interests made me SEVERELY uncomfortable? I don't know what to do.

What are these acronyms?

[coffee-and-tea-time]

HEAR ME OUT: A LIMINAL SPACE BUT YANDERE

…we seem to have drifted from our original plans with this account-

I call dibs on the dilf then

No, back off, he's mine🤺

Word count: 1.6k (the very first long post) (subtle brag)

TW: hinted yandere behavior but soft since it's the introduction, monster/non-human, written in you/yours, don't expect it to make much sense it's a liminal space that we created with things that came along the way and a bit of the backrooms wiki, human! reader is confused but interested (willing? Mostly confused)

“ugh… What time is it?”

You go grab your phone, annoyed that your stomach managed to wake you up. Maybe you really do need to eat something before trying to go back to sleep, though it's too comfy being in the warmth of the blankets…  still, a loud grumble from your belly ruined your plans, with no other option left, you sight and reluctantly got out of bed with your phone in hand, however, as you were making your way to go to the kitchen, you heard the distinctive ping of your phone's notifications which made you turn around to see… you have your phone in hand, why is there a replica of your phone on your bed?

You get closer, thinking it's surely something else and your eyes deceived you because of the dim lighting, when you grab that second ‘phone’ you got even more confused, is a perfect replica of your own, you even compared them both side to side wondering if you finally went insane but you didn’t get enough time to question your sanity as you start to feel extremely dizzy, like everything around you is spinning around so damn fast you can't even tell if you were the one moving or see properly at all, you close your eyes in hopes that it will prevent you from getting nauseous.

"Why is feeling so fucking chilly?"

You said in a shiver as you feel yourself fall, this time you know you are really moving, why? Because your face hits the snowy ground… Snowy ground? 

You move yourself a little too fast for a person that just kissed the ground with so much force, all you can see around you is softly falling snow through what looks like a residential street. 

The night sky a little too black, there were no lights that you could clearly see from just a swift look around, no stars, and… no clouds, the sky was pitch black, yet the houses were illuminated with a slight glow from moonlight even as the moon was nowhere in sight. 

The place was eerie to say the least, the overwhelming quietness of it all almost a warning of danger. There were no sounds of people, no distant murmurs of far away conversation, no barks from pets, no chirping of shivering birds.

This place is nothing like any place you've ever been in but it still gives you a nostalgic feeling. 

What can you do to return to your home? 

You start walking, maybe you should knock on a house with the lights on? It can be dangerous but there aren't a lot of options, one thing is sure, when you return home, you're gonna go to the hospital for a check-up, mental or physical? You aren't sure yet.

You thoughts were stopped when you catch a silhouette not so far away, seems the darkness makes it hard to see properly, but it's seems like the shadow of a little girl making a snowman, the sight relieves you somewhat and you decide to approach, asking the little girl is far more secure that knocking on randoms doors.

"Excuse me, little miss! It seems like I got lost, is there an adult with you that can tell me which street this is?"

You said out loud, it seems like the little one hears you when she tilts her head a little and moves her arms around cutely, the girl seems eager for you to come closer although you can't really tell if she is looking at you or not, it's odd, even as you get closer, you still see a shadow more than a child.

And then, you feel a soft and cold touch on top of your head, the faint snowing plus the silence makes you feel like you could hear as the soft snowflakes fell around you, like your sense of hearing heightened from the sheer lack of any other sounds. 

That being said, you couldn't help but jump when the loud sound of the door opening abruptly met your ears and even more when you hear like somebody is running behind you, you quickly look back but all you can see is snow and darkness. 

You return your gaze to the child, and got even more taken aback to find a shadow shaped like a abnormally tall man with horns sticking out of the dark smoke that seems to shape his 'hair' in front of you, and in the blink of an eye, you were picked up by 'him', he ran faster that you ever thought was possible, before you can even breathe, you already were inside of a house still in the man's arms, his hands under your armpits cupping you up like a soggy cat.

You try not to panic, as you let your eyes inspect the place, only one thing is sure: if it is dangerous, it is better not to test his patience, horror movies taught you better than that.

You feel something really cold hugging your leg, you gaze slowly going downwards only to find what you think is the little girl you saw earlier… seems like your eyes didn’t trick you before, it is in fact, a silhouette, a pitch black outline of a child.

What in the world is going on?

Well, at least they seem to understand you, the little one let go of your leg and gestured, trying to explaining you everything with charades, you would find it very lovable and adorable in any other occasion; your focus on the kid quickly interrupted by the man's hold of you shifting, his hands coiling around you and pressing you to his chest in what felt like a hug, your feet don't even touch the ground, you can feel thought your pajamas the cold emanating from his.. body? Well, unlike his gastly looking hair, the rest of his body did feel more solid, seems like even shadows can have a sleeper build… 

Wait, what?

Before you can think of anything else, your stomach growls, right, you were about to fetch yourself some food before you ended up here, though, their reaction to the grumble of your stomach amused you, how the tiny blank eyes of the little girl widened, them both freezing in a second of shock before the man ran again with you in his arms.

You can sense the toddler running after you two as the man runs into what seems like a rather luxurious kitchen, your bare feet finally meet the rather warm floor again although you still don't have time to relax as the shadow man tries to hurriedly feed you a spoonful of baking powder.

“I’m sorry but I can’t eat that…”

You anxiously try to explain why you can’t just eat baking powder, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way and lucky for you, he seems more concerned than anything, his.. mouth? twitches making more of a weary expression, at least you think so as he hurried to open all of the cabinets and even the fridge, letting you look through everything to search for something you could actually eat.

You sense a gentle tug on your pajama's shirt, when you look down, you were met with the little girl shyly offering you a fruit that you can actually eat, so you gladly accept it, you can’t help but find the shadow duo cute as they start cheering between themselves, seemingly celebrating that they found something that you can eat, you kind of want to take a photo but well, you don’t have your phone and probably if you had it, you would be calling for help rather than recording cute moments.

You start to relax on the chair as you eat, the adrenaline slowly wearing off of your body and with that comes the pain, right, you slammed on the ground a few minutes ago, you feel your body between a state of numbness and pain, you can't help but to winche because of that, which make the duo approach you again quickly.

“Sorry, i-is nothing, I just… need some sleep”

You come up with a quick excuse, even though they are weirdly kind and seems harmless, just in case, it's better to avoid mentioning any injury or damage since you still don't 100% trust how they'd react, you trust the outside even less though. Your mind plays back to that running you heard behind you before the shadowy man took you away, the memory still sending shivers down your spine. To escape from them without proper knowledge of how things work here sounds dumb.

As you were lost in thought, the tall man scooped you up once again, this time his cold touch felt gentler than before, you start to wonder if he sees you as a cat of some sort but there is no use in asking since these creatures don't seem like they know how to speak.

He walked you upstairs into what seemed like the master bedroom and gently tucked you into the bed with a soft pat on your head, you start to sense that these shadows love being affectionate, a little touchy feely; Maybe is the contrast of his cold body with your warmer human body, you can’t really blame him, the smoke that he has for hair seems really soft to the touch too…

For better or for worse, he stood up straight again and start checking the lock on the windows, making sure they were well covered, only opening the door to invite the child in, who quickly layed besides you handing you a little book, a bedtime story, with a smile, You find endearing the fact they so eagerly want to hear a story, but a chill runs to your spine when you hear the tall man locking the door and then laying down on the other side of the bed beside you.

The night ends up peacefully although the exhaustion wins over your sense of self preservation, you slowly drifting off to sleep after reading the story to the little girl.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

[vaguely-concerned]

when spite describes itself in lucanis' journals, it seems to consistently use the wording 'a small shade'. self-identified 'just a little guy (threat)' fhsak. I really like that wording, though. a shade, something cut off from the wholeness and living light that is the fade and made a shadow cast by someone else in the real world. 'small', under threat, vulnerable, sort of scrappy (and perhaps a little pathetic but in a 'don't touch me I'll bite!!!' kind of way haha).

I'm so in my feelings over how in the last journal it/he describes the two of them as 'a small shade and a wounded spirit sitting together', though. he's so confused and frustrated about what's going on with lucanis at the beginning, but once rook explains that lucanis isn't intentionally fucking with him, he's just hurting, spite seems to understand and accept that pretty readily (if not without some initial 'ugh FINE physical reality rules are so DUMB bitch you guys live like this' frustration lol). lucanis' early statements that spite doesn't, can't or won't learn are obviously bullshit and the game basically tells you so the moment he says it haha, but you know what. that is some deep learning spite is doing, and in like a year of being in the physical world too. I know plenty of actual real adult human beings who are not capable of that level of insight.

and also, as an aside... I think it's pretty conclusively proven in the series that spirits do have the ability to change and learn all on their own when they get the opportunity to and that it gets turbocharged for good or ill when they're exposed to the physical world. but I also wonder if some of it is the other side of the two way connection. just as spite flows into lucanis, surely that must happen after some fashion the other way too. does spite have some access to/come into contact with lucanis' kneejerk empathy response? to be in opposition to something or someone is not the same thing as not understanding them or where they're coming from, after all. in fact sometimes that can amplify the 'no no trust me I get it I understand. but fuck you doubly for it actually you still suck that why only makes it worse', so I don't feel that would go against spite's nature, even. lucanis already has such an interesting relationship to his own empathy all on his own -- he's a prime example of how 'empathy' and 'compassion' are not inherently the same process and one need not accompany the other. when he's in contract mode, empathy is just a knife, a way to understand people deeply so he can stab them better and more efficiently. when he's in family mode, empathy is accompanied with enough tenderness and compassion and warmth that it makes me feel ill to consider and makes it a bit hard for him to stay with, sometimes. it's the same skill/instinct, but shows up differently based on the context he's in. sure why not drop a demon in there and see what happens I guess lol. 'smells like tears and lying' anyone. spite's response to meeting compassion out in the world is 'GOD no don't make eye contact keep walking this is so fucking cringe', but uh. there's no way for him to escape it within the bounds of the person he's been frankensteined into, is there. aaaah it's so interesting.

there's something so fascinating to me about two souls who are so close they can't help but reflect and bleed into each other, but also remain two separate entities who can look at each other. and be mutually protective about it, clearly. augh.

[emperor-kumquat]

Fuck It

I am a gay trans immigrant in a deep red state in America. I came here for my partner's sake and have been making the best of it. The culture shock was hard, coming from Canada. In fact, we loved mocking Americans back home so it was hard for me to even like Americans. My instinct was to judge them as stupid. But it is never fair to judge people as all the same for something they can't help like nationality.

Each day, I looked for the goodness in the hearts of Americans. I tried to see that we weren't so different. I started to meet neighbours while taking care of the stray cats. I began volunteering at the city's animal shelter to start making a change. I wanted to see other good people and feel kinship.

Seeing the election results has just... hurt me. I feel so betrayed. I step outside and now know more than half of the adults out there don't care about what happens to me. I will work alongside volunteers, wondering if any of them voted for Trump. I will watch them do good deeds for animals, and wonder, how could you vote for someone who hurt people and the planet?

People in America will lose their rights. Women, immigrants, LGBTQ+, the disabled, and minorities across the board. Wars will be funded and slaughter will increase in other countries. Pollution will skyrocket with Republicans and their love of cars and oil. That affects everyone... Haven't we had enough forest fires and storms? We cannot deny climate change any longer.

I am not running away yet. I am staying. I will not be silent. I will be openly trans. They don't see us enough. They think we are boogeymen. They don't even know us. This is why it is so important to have a Pride flag and wear Pride things. We will not hide and be scared and ashamed. We will not be erased and keep hearing lies about us from the hateful ignorant.

I will protest alone with signs. And if or when things get really bad. I will be LOUD.

Fuck everyone who voted for Trump without a care for people like me. Fuck you to hell. You have no heart. Unfollow me. I assume on Tumblr most people are Democratic so that's all good, but I just have to get this off my chest.

I don't want anything bad to happen to me, but if I disappear, this is why. Republicans are hateful and many are violent. It's not a lie when their campaigns lie and fearmonger about specific groups of people.

Fuck, fuck, fuck you, Trump-supporters.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot

"Does he even pay you?"

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings

Length: 7k+ words

There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.

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"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.

"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.

You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.

Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.

Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.

While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!

The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.

Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.

He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.

"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.

Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.

Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.

He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.

'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'

'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'

'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'

You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.

You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.

He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.

Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.

Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.

Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.

He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.

He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.

"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.

"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"

"I know." You admit quietly.

"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."

"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.

"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.

"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.

You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.

Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.

When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.

It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.

Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.

He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.

He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?

People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.

"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.

He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.

Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.

His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.

"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.

Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.

He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.

You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?

Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.

He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.

He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.

"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.

"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.

What is your job, really?

Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.

It's good money. A hobby you cherish.

Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.

You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?

Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?

You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.

"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.

"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.

"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.

"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?

"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.

"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.

"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.

You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.

You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-

who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.

"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.

"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.

It will. Sadly.

"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.

No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.

He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.

Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.

When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.

The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.

"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.

"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.

"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.

"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.

So that's the reason?

"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.

"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.

"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.

"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.

"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.

"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."

"How?" You ask baffled.

"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.

"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.

Suddenly, he wants you out the room.

Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?

Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?

"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.

"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.

"Cool." You say.

"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.

"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.

"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.

"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.

"No." You deny.

"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.

"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."

"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.

"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.

"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.

"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.

"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.

"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.

"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.

"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.

"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.

"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.

"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.

"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.

"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.

"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.

"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.

"Not really." You deny.

"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.

"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.

"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.

"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.

"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."

"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.

He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.

"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.

"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.

"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.

"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."

"..feel how much I love you."

You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.

"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.

"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."

"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.

"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.

"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.

"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.

"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.

"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.

"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.

"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.

"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.

"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.

"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.

"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.

"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.

"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.

"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.

"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.

"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.

You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.

And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.

And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-

promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.

[areyouwell]

Philophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of love. Children or adults with Philophobia may experience cases of extreme loneliness due to this condition.

Ch.3

Ch.1 <--

Ch.2 <--

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!F!Reader

Warnings: uhhhh mild (?) descriptions of grief, logan romance or Lomance ™️, unfortunate Harry Potter inspiration... you'll see what I mean :(

Word count: 15.6k (oh fuck me)

A/N: i didn't think it would be this long genuinely i am gagged like what in the dissertation is this??? bisexual icon reader because slay boots that's why. also i don't see Logan as this harsh, dominating alpha male he's a sad grumpy man who just craves intimacy in any way he can get it, or he is in this fic <3

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside (lmk if you wanna be added lovelies)

Since when did you gnaw at your cuticles? How long had you been picking at your lips? Anxiety had plagued your body throughout your morning workout, deafening music doing nothing to drown out those starving nerves eating through your insides. Fuck you didn’t want to do this, why the hell had you let him convince you this was a good idea. You’d barely eaten anything all day in fear that if you put anything in your mouth that wasn’t water, it would just come back up again. 

You hadn’t spoken to anyone today. Sure, you’d seen people, and they’d tried talking to you, but you mainly just nodded absently through the conversation, only contributing an occasional hum or bland “Yep.” Rumour had of course spread that you were to begin teaching again today, especially after Storm had caught you leaving the Professor’s office that morning, looking as if you’d just confessed to first-degree murder. Charles had, of course, thought it was a wonderful idea to get you back into teaching. However, he offered you several words of warning around trying to use whatever new extent your powers had reached and had given you strict instructions to only use what you were used to.

In all honesty, you hadn’t intended on using your powers at all, but you guessed it all depended on Logan’s teaching methods. And you had a feeling they were quite hands-on. You pulled again at the loose skin on your lip you’d been picking again, feeling the sharp skin as it came loose, iron dusting your tongue, crimson dusting your fingertips as you could do nothing but wait, listening to the mocking ticking of the clock. You clamped down on your bleeding lip, that metallic taste now flooding your mouth as you absently sucked on the hurt. It helped keep your mind from racing. 

“You look like you’re gonna throw up,”

You loosened a breath as Logan strode down the hallway to the danger room, looking as self-assured as ever. Self-confident asshole. 

“Would you think less of me if I told you I already have?” You half-joked, hoping he didn’t see right through you to the truth in your words. You’d thrown up this morning, after your workout. Though any hope that he took you at face value died when his harsh features softened.

“Never,” he responded, and you felt a wave of calm wash over your chest. You weren’t doing this alone, you had to remember that. You were helping, not leading the class. Nothing more than a teaching assistant. The idea put you at ease, though not more than Logan’s presence did. 

The school bell rang out on the floors above you, and though it sounded distant, it very much sounded like your funeral toll. You scraped your nails through your hair. “I take it back, I don’t wanna do this anymore. Why did I agree? Why did I let you convince me?” You gestured to him wildly, your other hand braced on your hip in an attempt to catch your escaping breath. “I mean, fuck I haven’t done this in years. Years, Logan! And I wasn’t even good at it back then!” you panicked, exasperated at the whole situation. 

Though your entire train of thought came to an abrupt halt when he gently took your flailing wrist in his hands, one of his thumbs smoothing circles against the back of your palm. “You’re gonna be fine. You did this for five years before you left, and teaching ain’t one of those skills you just forget,” he squeezed your hand gently, and you couldn’t find anything else to look at other than his earnest eyes.

“How did you know I taught for five years?” you asked quietly, careful not to make any sudden moves in case he remembered he was still holding your hand and let you go.

Logan shrugged a little. “People talk, and there was a lot of talk around you when those rumours started,”

“Not that you believed them, of course,” you found peace in the teasing, and your heart skipped a beat when you recognised relief on his face.

“Not a single word,” he winked, and you laughed slightly. It seemed Logan had a knack for bringing you back from the brink of whatever kind of breakdown you were moments away from having. You took a calming breath, feeling your nerves settle.

“Alright, what’s the lesson for today then, Professor,” 

Logan rolled his eyes, snorting a laugh at the deliberate use of that title. “Thought we’d start easy, just do teamwork exercises, nothin’ too intense. Thought it might play into your strengths more,” You felt like you could cry. Theoretical teamwork you were fantastic at, teaching others how to work together you could do until the sun went down. There was a small kernel of hope in your heart that you wouldn’t have to put any of this into practice. That was where your teaching fell a little short. 

“Okay… yeah, okay, I can do that, just as long as we don’t have to do it too. More of a ‘fuck this I’ll do it myself’ kinda gal,” you admitted with a sheepish laugh.

If he was being honest with himself, Logan didn’t peg you as the kind of person to just go off on her own. He didn’t know why he assumed you’d be good at teamwork, maybe it was because you’d been part of the X-men for far longer than he had, so automatically assumed you’d just be inherently good at it. What he hadn’t taken into account, was the fact that you’d been away for two years with nobody but yourself to rely on. Maybe this wasn’t such a good start after all, especially since his teaching methods were very… involved.

“Demonstrations are a part of the class…” he said with a raised brow, though before you could reply fuck a definitive ‘fuck no’, the lift at the end of the hallway slid open, and your students for the day all filed out, deep in conversation with each other and each wearing a black suit, modified and trimmed to fit each mutation. Marie and Bobby lead the small group, followed by Peter, Julian, Jubilee and, to your surprise, Kitty, who sent you an enthusiastic wave.

You cocked your head to the side, wondering why on earth Kitty was still taking classes before Logan leaned down to your ear. “Thought ya might need some moral support.” He’d noticed how close you and Kitty seemed to be, and so had asked her this morning if she’d attend his class. She, of course, gave him a bunch of knowing looks and sly comments but agreed in a heartbeat. And your smile of wondrous disbelief was worth every bite of his tongue. 

Your eyes flickered between his as you searched for the right words, having to settle on a whispered “Thank you,” before turning back to the students, still a little lost in your daze as Logan started to explain the point of today’s class. A comforting warmth had settled around your heart with the complete knowledge and belief that Logan had your back, there was no way you could doubt that at this point.

“Now, Jubilee and Julian, I know you two are newer to this than the rest of the students here, but from what I’ve seen so far, ya won’t have much of a problem. Any questions ‘fore we start?” Logan asked, looking at each student individually, though deliberately missing Kitty out. She knew far too much for her own good, and the sole reason for her presence was for your benefit. The class shook their heads, each of them as eager as the last to start the exercise. And with a quick glance to you, he saw you give him a determined nod. “Alright then, let’s go,” he nodded for them all to make their way inside, the simulation already having started to take shape. 

You took a deep breath, before following suit, Logan closing the doors behind you. “Y’alright bub?” he asked quietly, and you flashed him a nervous smile.

“Never better,” it was an obvious lie, but at this point, you didn’t feel the need to hide it. He’d already proven himself trustworthy with your thoughts.

“You’re doing great,”

“I haven’t done anything yet!”

“And you’ve been great at it.” He smirked at your frown, once again flicking the centre of your forehead. Though you waved him off, it did help to smooth the wrinkles that had formed between your brows. “Trust yourself a little more, yeah?”

Your smile was anything but genuine, and honestly, you hoped he saw how spiteful it was. “I’ll try,” was all you said, before jogging a little to catch up with the others. Logan sighed as he watched you disappear through the dense forest. He’d picked this simulation for a reason. Mainly because the whole mission took place during the night, and through the aforementioned forest. Plenty of shadows for you to disappear into if things got too much or you needed a break. There was a small part of him that hoped you realised that, and an equally small part of him that hoped you’d never catch on. 

“A stealth rescue mission with a time limit, my favourite…” you heard Bobby quip sarcastically, and you silently chuckled. He always did have some kind of comment to make, whether it be helpful or just simply funny. You heard Marie giggle, and looked between the two of them, noticing the way her gaze fell to his lips most of the time. You really fucking hoped you weren’t that obvious with Logan.

Though one look from Kitty told you that you were. God fucking damnit.

“Okay… so how do we go about this? We don’t even know where we’re going or what we’re looking for, and it’s not like we can see much cuz we’re in a damn forest!” Jubilee lamented, and you had the urge to tell her to watch her language. Maybe getting back into teaching wasn’t so hard after all.

“Not one of us has any kind of enhanced sight? Jubilee, can’t you sense electromagnetic fields or something?” Marie asked a little desperately. None of them seemed too keen to fail at the first hurdle.

“That’s not how my mutation works, Rogue. I can produce and wield light and energy, not sense it,” she responded, opening her palm and creating a small ball of sparking, multicoloured light in her hand. 

“Okaaay… Julian?” Rogue turned to the boy, who shook his head in response. 

“Telekinesis,” was all he said. 

You sighed, folding your arms across your chest. Maybe you could help them out, just a little… “So if not one of you can do something, maybe a few of you can?” you prompted, causing the group to turn to you. Taking a breath, you stepped forward, a smile of understanding pulling at your lips. “You’re establishing strengths and weaknesses. That’s good, keep going down that track,” you encouraged, watching as they all formed back into a circle, considering your words. It filled you with an old, familiar sense of pride, and Kitty quickly shot you a double thumbs up, before dipping her head back into the circle.

Logan stood behind you, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree. Honestly, he had no fucking clue how they were going to figure out where to go or what to do, and if it were him in this situation, he’d simply just pick a direction or follow his nose. You, however, seemed to already have a plan figured out. It was impressive.

Much like everything else you did.

“Okay, so we all agree?” Marie asked to a chorus of nodding heads. “Right, Bobby you set up the slide, Peter, see if you can find a log big enough to shield Kitty from Jubilee. Julian, you just get ready to catch her,” Each student set about their tasks instantly, Bobby placing his hand on the floor. You observed as sheets of ice started blanketing a wide path in front of him, curling the far end into a slope. Peter returned with a hollowed-out tree trunk that looked more like a bobsled than anything else, and you had a feeling he may have done that on purpose. 

Jubilee looked as if she was about to vomit. “Are we sure this is a good idea?” she asked, wringing her hands out in front of her. You felt for the girl, knowing what that kind of stress felt like. Julian placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded silently, encouragingly. The sight was achingly familiar, and you couldn’t help but glance at Logan behind you.

Though you weren’t expecting him to already be looking at you.

Something you would unpack later.

You turned back in time to see Bobby freezing two sharp blades to the bottom of Kitty’s boots, and the understanding dawned on you. Oh, fucking hell these kids were insane. They were about to launch Kitty above the treeline.

Your eyes widened, hands balling at your sides in a physical display of restraint. This could only end badly. You couldn’t see a scenario where this went well, and you’d fucking encouraged them. To hell with the exercise, you wouldn’t let them endanger themselves like this. You took a step forward to stop them in their tracks before a large hand settled on your shoulder. 

“Give ‘em a chance,” Logan whispered, and you looked over at him. He blinked at your expression, not having seen this kind of fear on your face yet. You told him you worried too much when you were a teacher, but this was heart-stopping terror. His arms ached to pull you in, chest itching to feel you against it, but he couldn’t. Not here anyway. “I won’t let anythin’ happen to ‘em, okay? I promise,” his palm moved to cup your jaw, thumb tracing a line from your chin to your ear. 

You closed your eyes, listening to that strange, primal need to be near to him, leaning into his touch ever so slightly and willing yourself to believe him. To believe in them. The smell of him consumed you; pine needles, woodsmoke and whiskey. Was it a deliberate cologne or did he just naturally smell this good? You didn’t know and to be quite honest, at that moment, you didn’t care. 

“Okay…” you voice barely above a whisper, opening your eyes to find yourself instantly captivated in his intense gaze. Pupils blown in the darkness, flickering from your eyes to the rest of your face, before finally down to your lips. And there they lingered, to a point where you could no longer deny that what you felt was just friendship. And you didn’t want it to be. You didn’t want to just have a friendship with him. You wanted him in ways you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Maybe ever. “Logan…”

Your voice was a symphony to him, a cooling balm for his ears. Saying his name like that, in a way, he felt like it didn’t deserve to be said, shattered his resolve. Leaning down, he angled his head to the left, shivering at the way your breath fanned his lips. Fuck, he could taste you, taste the cherry-flavoured chapstick you used. He could taste the slight hint of mint where you’d brushed your teeth that morning. Taste something else he couldn’t identify but was distinctly you. 

A hair’s breadth between you, all it would take was a micromovement before his lips were on yours. You wondered if he could hear your pulse quicken. If he could hear your heartbeat race. Could he see the desire in your eyes? Could he smell just how badly you wanted him? 

All these questions you were millimetres away from knowing the answers to before Peter’s voice shattered the illusion.

“Ready?” he boomed, and you jerked your head back, searching his face for an unspoken explanation as to what the fuck was happening before you whipped your head around and finally came back to reality. You didn’t have time to so much as scream before Jubilee extended her hands toward the vertical hollow log, held by Colossus, containing Kitty. Peter stepped back, allowing the blast of explosive energy to hit the centre of the log and send her rocketing forward, the wood suddenly lighting up green as Julian caught it briefly with his telekinesis, leaving Kitty to shoot up the slope alone, her makeshift skates scratching on the ice.

Logan’s hand fell from your neck back to your shoulder, squeezing gently in reassurance as you watched her disappear through a gap in the canopy above, your heart in your throat. 

“You got her Julian?” Marie called, and you looked at the boy, his hand outstretched, a low hum accompanying a faint green light above. He was holding her up there, giving her as much time as he could for her to survey their surroundings and find where they needed to go. It was a sight to behold, though you couldn’t quite let out your held breath just yet, Kitty was still a good eighty feet above the ground.  

“Found it!” you heard her shout from the sky before the green glow stuttered slightly. Your eyes flickered from the skies to Julian, who’s hand was trembling from the strain. He was still a kid, effectively, and he still hadn’t developed his mutation properly. Taking a step forward, you made to pull away from Logan, already formulating a plan to catch Kitty with your own mutation. If you timed it right, you could minimise the impact by dissolving and reforming both of you. You’d done it a few times before, but it took a toll on both you and the recipient, having to keep a tight hold on their consciousness whilst in shadow. It took more concentration than you had right now, but you didn’t see any other way.

“Wait.” Logan stopped you, his hand on your shoulder tightening, stopping you from launching forward. He needed you to see. He needed you to see you didn’t need to constantly be worried about them. He’d taught most of these kids for the last almost two years, he knew what they were capable of. You’d been gone for a while, he understood that, but he needed you to see that you didn’t need to step in all the time. You didn’t have to save them anymore. You didn’t have to be scared anymore. Not for them.

Julian’s hand fell to his side, the boy bending at the waist panting as the green glow sputtered out completely, the hum of his ability fading away. You knew Kitty was falling, but how far you couldn’t say, losing sight of her now there was no longer an aura around her. Logan felt you shift under his grip, but he held firm. You had to watch. 

Kitty phased through the canopy, and you hadn’t noticed Peter positioning himself beneath. A shining coat of metal materialised across his skin as he jumped to her, catching her safely in his arms before landing with a heavy thud. 

You couldn’t quite believe what you’d just seen, Kitty safe and sound with her own two feet touching the ground, a wide grin stretching across her face as her eyes found hers, once again giving you another double thumbs up. You weakly returned her smile, but it was fleeting as the group started jogging in the direction she pointed in. 

A pin could drop and you would hear it clatter to the earthen ground in the lingering silence, your breath audible as you stared at the last place you’d seen the students you’d taught for five years. You were aware of Logan’s presence extremely close behind you, but you didn’t have it in you to care.

“Told ya,” he murmured smugly. You couldn’t be mad at him, he had reason to be smug. He’d taught these kids incredibly well in your absence. You had him to thank for that expert display of their mutations. The back of your head rested against his chest as you relaxed, using him one would a wall to lean against.

“Yeah… you did,” you responded, laughing slightly with relief and pride. It was the sweetest sound Logan had heard you make, other than perhaps the way you whispered his name not moments ago. He wondered what could have happened had you not been interrupted. Though he quickly had to stop himself, gritting his jaw against the images his mind conjured. He absolutely couldn’t be thinking about that during class.

“So, this is why you didn’t wanna get back into teaching?” he asked, taking the first steps to follow the students, though he kept his hand on your shoulder as you fell into step beside him, his arm now basically holding you against him. You didn’t seem to move away, and he hoped you were too caught up in your relief to notice.

Though, of course, you noticed. Your entire body was alight with the feeling of his proximity, of the recent memory of what had nearly happened between you. It was fucking stupid, and insanely irresponsible and you were definitely going to beat yourself up about it at a later date, but there was something so comforting about his embrace that you didn’t feel bad about it. “Yeah… mostly. I don’t think I worried quite this much back then, but yeah. I guess…” you trailed off, not knowing how to phrase your thoughts. 

Logan gave you time and stayed quiet as you gathered yourself. From Scott’s reaction yesterday morning after he’d mentioned you opened up to him, he got the impression you didn’t do this often. A warmth spread through his chest at the idea of him being the one you’re comfortable enough to talk to, despite only knowing him for two days. 

“I guess, I’ve known these kids since they were younger, ya know? Most of them came here after some huge traumatic event in their lives and–” You took a steadying breath. “I don’t know, I just don’t wanna see them hurt even more than they already have been, physically or mentally.” 

As if you could be any more endearing to him. Logan took a minute to let your words sink in, not only listening to you but truly hearing you. He didn’t know it was possible to feel this way for someone so quickly, and if you both weren’t in the middle of teaching a class, he’d pull you into his chest and fuse his lips to yours. Although, being in the middle of a class wasn’t enough to stop him earlier…

“Could you say something before my insides knot themselves further, i’m dying here,” you elbowed him lightly, breaking him from his reverie. He hadn’t realised he’d just been staring at you in awestruck silence, but he understood how since you’d just opened your heart a little, that lingering silence was extremely awkward for you.

“They’re stronger than you think,” was all he could offer, before the two of you finally caught up to the students, and you pulled away from him. Logan knew it was most likely for the best, however, that didn’t mean he was happy about it. 

“You were saying…” you drawled, turning back to look pointedly at him over your shoulder. Logan cocked his head to the side, not entirely sure what you meant, before he heard what you were looking at. Every single one of his students had been caught in one of the various traps around the hidden facility, faceless guards and soldiers pointed guns in their direction. His stomach was full of lead, he looked at you, trying to gauge whether or not you were about to go ape shit. But you just stood, assessing the situation with a sense of professionalism he’d only seen on the rest of the X-men. 

They were all bickering with each other, blaming each other for the situation they’d found themselves in. Peter and Bobby swung upside down from one of the branches above, their ankles tied together and their wrists bound. They were held at such a height that, if Peter was to coat himself in steel, the fall would most likely injure Bobby badly.

Marie and Julian were facing each other, Marie’s hand was dangerously near Julian’s face. One movement and she’d be draining his energy and life force. You could see the fear in both of their eyes. Jubilee was on the ground beneath Peter and Bobby, her hands also tied behind her back. If she were to use her mutation, the two strung from the trees would be blasted to ash. Kitty was nowhere to be seen.

What a predicament they’d found themselves in. You stepped back to Logan’s side, arms folded across your chest, eyes trained on his expression. “We could wait to see what they’ll do…” you suggested though the raise of your brow told him you had another option.

“Or?” he prompted.

“Or, we could show ‘em. What did you say earlier? Demonstrations are part of the class,” you once again tried to mimic his voice, your chin dipping as you reached the depth of your vocal chords. Logan rolled his eyes, refusing to show that he found your terrible impressions endearing. 

“An’ how d’ya wanna do that?” he asked, his disobedient lips morphing into a smile as you winked back at him.

“We teach. And do try to keep up, fossil, I don’t wanna do all the work,” you grinned, and before he could even voice his irritation at you calling him a fossil again, you melted back into the shadows, completely disappearing from his view. 

Logan swore lowly, slowly releasing his claws from his knuckles, keeping his footsteps steady and measured. This was, after all, supposed to be a stealth mission. And who better for stealth than a mutant who could quite literally walk through darkness? Feeling pretty damn happy with himself for his choice of simulation, Logan pressed his back against one of the trees, sliding around the trunk before he had a decent view of the situation. 

He held his position for a beat, preparing himself to move forward again before there was a brief, cut-off scream from one of the masked guards. Torches and guns whipped to where the sound was last heard and found nothing but a discarded weapon and another torch flickering on the ground. 

A beat passed, and this time Logan bore witness to what happened to the other guy. Passing up through the shadows on the ground, a ghostly pale hand wrapped around the ankle of another faceless guard. They didn’t have time to scream like the other before their entire body was dragged into the shadows. He didn’t even know you could do that. You could drag other people into the darkness with you? Since when? You’d failed to mention that little detail.

However as he watched you work, he noticed there was a pattern to your movements. You never went for any of the taller, stockier-looking guards, mainly picking off the smaller ones. Your latest victim fell into one of the trees, and Logan watched as every torch turned to shine against the trunk. From what he knew of your mutation, yes you could move through shadows, but you were trapped if that shadow became isolated, much like the one behind the tree he was certain you were in. 

The way he raced through the forest was both a testament to Logan’s speed and his sudden, overwhelming urge to make sure you were safe, the simulation completely forgotten. Thrusting himself into the light of the torches, Logan branched a gateway shadow for you, throwing his arm out to the side and casting a dark bridge behind the tree. 

Bullets fired instantly, and Logan grit his teeth as his chest and abdomen were used as fucking target practice for these faceless assholes. Though he was used to the feeling, what he wasn’t expecting, was the almost unbearable itching in his back. Were you… wait were you on him? His theory was confirmed when the rounds of gunfire ceased briefly. Logan felt a slight pull against his spine, and the itching stopped as you reformed, your back pressed against his own.

“Thanks,” you breathed, peering around his shoulder, your eyes flickering to each crimson stain on the front of his white t-shirt. “Fuck! Are you–”

“‘M fine. Fight from my shadow,” he instructed, and you nodded once, before dissolving into his pitch-black silhouette on the ground. With a crack of his neck, Logan growled lowly, before walking towards what was left of the armed force. Picking up momentum, he broke into a run, releasing a bellowing roar before tearing limb from limb.

You leapt from Logan’s shadow like a dolphin from water, using his momentum as his own, your foot collided with one of the masked faces before you dissolved back into the darkness he was casting. 

Ducking and diving, slicing and stabbing, you timed every movement perfectly to his own. Logan swung in a wide horizontal arc, and if you’d been a second too slow, he would have sliced you in half. But you soared over his arm, your hands tucked in at your shoulders, striking out with your leg and into another faceless mask, watching as the satisfying crunch of a broken neck snapped their head to the side. You didn’t dive back into his shadow this time as you landed, the clearing around you plunged into darkness as the last of the guards dropped to the ground. 

Breathlessly, you looked over to where Logan was grimacing slightly, the wounds against his chest closing up, various bullets and shrapnel falling to the ground from his body. His eyes met yours before looking at the bodies you’d both just lay waste to. So much for not being able to work as a team.

“Holy shit…” Bobby breathed from above. 

“Language!” Both you and Logan barked in unison before you approached the captured students, a hand on your hip. “Now, can anyone tell me why that worked so smoothly?” you asked, and Logan stood back and watched you in your element. He couldn’t help but think it was a little cruel to teach whilst they were all still in various positions of capture, but who was he to question your teaching methods? He’d never worked so well as a team in his goddamn life. Even he was learning things today.

“You uh, you both knew the capabilities of the other’s mutation?” Julian piped up a little shakily, Marie’s hand still far too close to his face for anyone’s liking. You nodded, raising a brow to Logan in a silent request to free the two of them. He nodded, slicing through the rope around them with one of his claws. Julian stumbled away, and Marie instantly went to put her gloves back on.

“Absolutely. That only worked well because I knew Professor Howlett’s capabilities, and he was aware of my weaknesses. If isolated in a shadow, I’m cornered. He knew that and formulated a plan to get me out of that mess. Thanks, by the way,” you shot him a smile, and he waved you off. 

“Don’t mention it,” he didn’t want to mention how he didn’t know the extent of your current abilities. He had no idea you could drag people into shadow with you. That was very much a surprise for him.

“What else?” you prompted, looking to each student individually.”

“You were aware of the other’s movements. If you weren’t, you’d be sliced into ribbons,” Bobby offered, his voice a little strained from swinging upside down. You sighed, trying to stop your smile. He wasn’t wrong…

“Unnecessarily graphic, Bobby, but yes. I took the time to study Lo– Professor Howlett’s movements from his shadow. It’s important to know how your team operates, and equally as important for them to know how you move.” You explained, before setting about getting them down safely. It took some fiddling before you found the rope that held them up. Logan took it from you, slowly lowering them to the ground. 

“Anything else?” you asked, stooping to free Jubilee. You were already satisfied with their answers, not expecting them to have anything else to offer until a voice piped up from behind you. 

“You trusted each other completely.”

You whirled to find Marie fiddling awkwardly with her gloves, stealing glances at Bobby. You’d been thrown for a loop. The girl was right. That plan never would have worked had you questioned Logan’s judgement at the time, and spent too long thinking about it. You’d put your faith in him, and it worked out for the best. And you found, now you were thinking about it, you’d do it again in a heartbeat. Your only problem was, did he trust you?

“Right,” Logan confirmed. Well, that answered that. “We wouldn’t’ve gotten to that point if we’d spent half ‘n hour bickering ‘bout it. I trust her implicitly,” he looked at you, eyes lingering on your own. “And she trusts me.” He finished quietly, and you smiled in affirmation, offering him a small nod of acknowledgement. The silence dragged on as you both looked at each other, once again completely unaware of your surroundings.

That was until Kitty came barrelling through the stone wall of the facility, sweat beading down the side of her head, her hand clasped on the shoulder of a little girl whose eyes blinked bright yellow, vertical pupils broadening in the sudden darkness. You guessed that was who they were supposed to rescue. 

“Got her! Wh– woah…” she looked around at the carnage littering the clearing floor, her eyes clocking onto the bloodstains on Logan’s shirt and on the leg of your suit. “What’d I miss?” she asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Only the sickest example of teamwork by our professors!” Jubilee exclaimed, and you had to blink a few times, unused to being referred to as a professor. But before you could correct the girl, Kitty clicked her tongue. 

“Huh, interesting. Teamwork from two of the most ‘I’ll do this alone’ people I know,” she said nonchalantly, though it was obvious to you what she meant by that, and your brows furrowed into a scowl.

“And where were you? This was supposed to be a teamwork exercise, Kitty.” You set your jaw, jutting out your chin a little defensively. Kitty gestured down to the kid right as the simulation started to pixilate and the girl disappeared along with the forest. 

“We were under a time limit, right? Part of teamwork is knowing when to prioritise the mission over the safety of your team. Everyone knows the stakes, everyone knows the consequences,” Kitty said pointedly. Logan narrowed his eyes slightly, noticing how this was turning into something a little more personal than a lesson. He saw your eyes flicker with an emotion he couldn’t place before your features hardened.

“That depends on the risk you’re taking, and some consequences aren’t worth it. If this had gone badly, you could have lost your entire team.” You gestured to the students behind who were all staying incredibly quiet.

To the untrained ear, it looked like Kitty was just mumbling under her breath, but Logan very clearly heard what she said. “You’d know all about taking those risks, wouldn’t you?”

You tensed, nostrils flaring slightly. Fury and shame swirled in your irises.

“Class dismissed.” You grit sternly, your shoulders more tensed than he’d ever seen them. One by one the students filed out, Kitty sending you an apologetic glance but you were too busy being utterly furious to notice or care. You stared at the ground, and Logan could almost taste your rage. 

He wasn’t entirely sure how to go about this. Should he leave you to it? Follow the students and make sure they’re all alright? Should he stay silent and let you work through whatever it was you had going on in your beautiful head? 

You decided for him. “That went well…” 

He watched you visibly deflate, exhaustion radiating from your very bones, a hand braced on your brow bone. 

Logan crossed to you, allowing his instincts to rein free. Extending his arms, he gently pulled you into his body, smiling as you sighed in what he refused to believe was comfort. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself as you buried your face in his slightly bloodied jacket.

“Quite the display of teamwork we put on, huh?” His voice rumbled from his throat and you had to bite back another sigh. You couldn’t tell if he knew you needed this, or if this was just a happy coincidence, but honestly? You didn’t fucking care. It felt good to be held by him, and after Kitty dragged up memories from the past, you needed to drown yourself in something other than your consuming sense of guilt, and Logan’s body seemed to be the next best thing. 

He tried his best not to tense as your hands slid to his back, tried his fucking best not to shiver as you clung to his slightly, his arms wrapped around your waist and shoulders securely. 

“Yeah… it was,” you smiled, shifting so your forehead was pressed against his chest, your breath fanning one of the many holes in his shirt. You resisted the urge to run your hands through the hair poking through the bloodstains, keeping them firmly at his back. Unfortunately, willpower alone didn’t seem to be enough, so you stepped back from his embrace, just far enough to remove the temptation from your mind. 

Logan searched your tired face, one question echoing in his mind. “What did Kitty mean? When she said you’d know ‘bout takin’ risks?”

All it took was one question for you to shut down completely. Your once soft features petrified to stone, any insight he had into your mind was quickly shut through your eyes as you stepped completely out of his range. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said dismissively, raising your head in challenge. Daring him to keep asking questions. It frustrated him, and he decided he really didn’t like you lying to his face.

“That’s a lie.” He declared, his jaw clenched. This was not how to approach the subject, but he couldn’t understand why you weren’t talking to him. You’d told him the good about your life, you’d told him about your situation with your mutation, why was this suddenly too far?

“Oh, and you’d know, yeah? Though, from what I remember, you weren’t actually there. Because, and correct me if I’m wrong, I’ve only known you for two days. Just because we get on well doesn’t give you a fast pass ticket to knowing everything about my life,” you hissed, and Logan decided he’d had enough. 

“Didn’t feel like we ‘just got on well’ earlier, did it princess?” He bit back, and you blinked.

Did this motherfucker seriously have the audacity to bring that up right now? “Maybe it didn’t to you, but I know my fucking priorities,”

“Yeah? Is that what Kitty meant? Sounds like you haven’t always had your priorities straight.” He knew he’d crossed a line when the stone wall of your features cracked, his words sinking deeper than he ever meant them to. He didn’t know what happened, he didn’t know your situation, but it was obvious now he’d struck a nerve. Obvious in the way your head shook slightly, your shining eyes flickering in utter, disgusted disbelief. 

Any hope you had for whatever was between you and Logan shattered in an instant. You didn’t even know what to say, your mouth flapping open and closed. Taking a few steps back from him, you looked him up and down, as if searching for where that comment came from. You didn’t know he was capable of something like this, and what made it so much worse, was that he was right. You’d made a huge mistake in the past, and people had suffered because of it. People died because of it. 

Logan wanted to reach for you, to pull you back into his embrace and apologise, but he found himself stuck, staring as your features morphed from heartbreaking disbelief to savage understanding. A smile cut across your lips, though your eyes still shimmered with unshed tears. 

“Okay,” your harsh voice shattered the silence as you nodded along with whatever internal conclusion you’d come to. “That’s that then.” Your eyes pierced through his soul. Logan had a lot of moments in his life he regretted, but seeing the way he’d destroyed whatever was building between you two with a single, stupid fucking comment, might have taken the top spot. Perhaps narrowly overtaken by letting you walk away from him. 

There was something to be said about how peaceful the dark was. Floating in nothing but an ocean of shadows, you let yourself imagine. Let yourself imagine what it would be like if you let go. If you stopped trying to develop your mutation and let it consume you. It was only yesterday you were so fucking stubborn about your possible fate. But now… it didn’t seem so bad. 

You sensed a disturbance in the balance between the light and the dark, another shadow moving smoothly in the brilliant white. You knew instantly who it was, and you attempted to still your conscience. 

“You can hide all you want, I know you’re here,” Xavier spoke aloud, though you knew he didn’t need to. He could have reached you even as nothing but a concept. You mentally sighed, only reforming your head, upper shoulders and arms out of the darkness, rising slightly out of the floor. You rested your chin against your folded hands. 

“How can I help, Professor?” you asked, summoning as much mental strength as you could to at least try and appear okay. You’d disappeared into the garden, always finding the darkness outside to be more freeing than that of a dark room. Charles interlaced his fingers on his lap.

“I wanted to ask how your class went today. Logan spoke incredibly highly of you, it’s rare he has much to say about anyone,” he smiled knowingly. 

You couldn’t help your sarcastic scoff. “Oh, I’m sure Logan found plenty to say about me,” clearly the wound was still fresh. Fresher than even you realised. Xavier tilted his head in faux confusion. 

“Are you referring to the comment Kitty made?”

Your head shot up from its resting place against your hands. “How do you know about that?” It was a stupid question, Charles Xavier knew everything that happened in his school. However, you found that he only brought up certain things if he’d been verbally informed. Something about not abusing his power. 

“Logan told me, before asking me what happened.” 

“Still can’t stay out of other people’s businesses, can he?” you snarled, reforming the rest of your body and crossing to sit on one of the benches. 

“He cares for you.” The statement shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but you still blinked as Charles came to sit opposite you.

“He’s got a real funny way of showing it.” You grumbled.

“How much do you know about him?”

“That’s the fucking problem!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “I don’t know a damn thing! He’s asked me everything about my life, from when I was a waitress at some shitty little diner to how I learned how to cook so well. I told him all about growing up with my brother, my parents d–” You couldn’t finish that sentence, your throat closing up. 

“Does he know that? About your parents?”

“He knew they weren’t around, and it was just me and my brother for a while. But what does that matter? He won’t fucking talk to me! Not in the same way… Why are you talking to me about this?” you suddenly realised how strange the situation was, and in your moment of clarity, you decided that for once in your fucking life, this was nobody else’s business. You came out here to be away from people, not to be bothered twenty minutes into your escape. 

“Am I a bother?”

Fuck, you fucking forgot he could read your mind like a damn book. You sighed defeatedly, already regretting being so combative. “Yes and no. Look, Kitty said what she said. It wasn’t like I completely forgot what happened three years ago I just… I’d put a lot of effort into moving forward. I understand the point she was making, it was just–”

“Unnecessary,” Charles finished with a nod of understanding. It was nice, in a way, to be understood without having to voice everything. Even if it was because he could read every single thought in your head at any given time. 

“And then Logan said what he said and it was just… yeah. I don’t know…” you shrugged, hugging your knees. 

Charles leaned forward to place a hand atop your own, causing you to lift your head from the home you’d made within your arms. “This is a school of second chances. Of third chances. I do hope you don’t believe that only applies to the students,” you winced as he slipped into his ‘Professor’ voice, gritting your teeth, suddenly feeling like a scolded schoolgirl again. 

“I know it isn’t. I of all people know that. There’s just so much going on right now, with getting back into teaching and developing my mutation so I don’t just fade into nothingness and whatever the fuck is going on with Logan I just, I have a lot on my mind.” you admitted, though it was a little stunted. Admitting you weren’t exactly in a good headspace wasn’t the easiest for you if your recent outbursts of unadulterated rage were anything to go by.

Fuck, this meant you definitely had to talk things out with him. Maybe even confront whatever the fuck was happening between you, or whatever the fuck could have happened had you both not been in the middle of teaching a class. You didn’t know if you had the emotional capacity for that right now. As much as you wanted to.

Charles squeezed your hand gently. “I didn’t teach you to run from trouble, did I? And I certainly didn’t teach you to hide. What happened three years ago was an accident. It’s time you stopped blaming yourself.” You looked to the sky, trying your fucking hardest not to let the tears in your eyes fall, blinking rapidly and simply willing your eyes to dry. You knew he was right. You’d harboured a sense of guilt so strong it made teaching terrifying for you. Being so afraid something like that would happen again, you’d spent the rest of that year trying to discourage your students from doing the same things as you did on that mission.

No wonder Kitty was so irritated at you. You were such a fucking hypocrite. 

With a shaky breath, you stood from the bench, and Charles moved back a little. You wouldn’t find Logan immediately, you had a lot of your own thoughts to figure out, but you would find him at some point. Besides, he was the one who managed to reassure you in the danger room. He was the one who showed you what those kids were capable of. You shouldn’t probably thank him for that.

You seemed to spend your life recently either wanting to thank the man or wanting to yell at him. But either way, he was constantly on your mind.

With a wordless nod to the Professor, a silent show of gratitude, you crossed back through the gardens and through the double doors, knowing already what you wanted to do. You’d found it yesterday whilst making meatballs, and your mind briefly wondered who had taken such time to hide it away.

Crouching to the cans cupboard, you gently moved aside that same tower of soup, feeling your breathing stutter slightly as you saw her again. Your heart cracked at her faded smile, her white teeth glowing against the deep bronze of her complexion. You remembered the delicate gold necklace she wore, even more so the locket resting against the hollow of her throat. 

You’d thrown yours out the day you lost her. Unable to look at the reminder of what you’d had. Of what you’d destroyed. Your thumb skirted across the angles of her features as if you could feel her beneath your palm once again. You’d tried so hard to forget her, to push her from your mind, to gaslight yourself into believing what you felt for her was nothing but a desire for companionship. A temporary fling. 

But you knew now. You had something to compare those feelings to, and you knew now. Because the way you felt around Logan, the way you felt just thinking about him, it was exactly the fucking same. 

Holding the mug to your chest, your shoulders shuddered in silent sobs. What you wouldn’t do to be in her arms again. To hear her heartbeat one last time. To laugh with her again. To stay up all night, a tangle of limbs and passion, giggling quietly into the dark. But you’d disrespected her memory by trying to forget her altogether. 

A soft call of your name by a voice you knew all too well by now brought you back from your grief, and you turned your head to see him standing by the door. The concern on his face despite the savage argument earlier speared your heart, and you wiped a stray tear from your face with the heel of your palm. 

Logan didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know why you’d fallen out so badly earlier today, he didn’t know how it got so out of control so quickly. And fuck did it break him to see you cry. Every instinct was screaming at him, begging him to go to you, to encase you in his arms and hold you until the rest of the world faded away. But when you didn’t respond to him, when you just stared absently after he said your name, he admitted to himself the likelihood of that ever happening was slim to none. 

“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you alone…” he muttered with a nod of acknowledgement, turning to leave back the way he came.

You stood quickly, vision swimming slightly with the velocity of the movement. “Logan wait,” you watched as he stopped, his shoulders tensed. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t dare to. The fact you’d even spoken to him was miracle enough, he didn’t want to shatter reality by turning to see your face dismissive, asking him to wait just so you could tell him how much of a fucking asshole he was. At least, that’s what he deserved to happen. “Sit…”

Now he turned, eyes rising from the floor to meet your broken ones. He wasn’t about to push his luck and ask why, so he did what you told him and took a seat at the table, watching you like a hawk as you dragged a chair to sit next to him, your proximity electric.

Silently, you set the mug on the table in front of you both, rotating it slightly so he could see the faded photograph. His brows raised as he looked between the photo and you, working to put the pieces together. 

“Who was she?” he asked hesitantly, baring in the mind the last two times he’d asked you about anything a little darker you’d shut down completely. He managed to fight the urge to take your hand.

“Her name was Jade. She’s the reason we found the school, and the reason I became a teacher,” you paused, steeling your nerves before you continued. “And the reason I stopped.” You were unable to tear your eyes away from the picture, retracing the lines and curvature of her face.

“I thought you stopped teaching because Charles sent you to search for more young mutants?” Logan queried, and you finally glanced at him.

“That’s why I left, yeah. He probably thought it would be good for me to get away, but I stopped teaching because I made a stupid fucking mistake on a mission and it–” You paused again, not knowing if you could continue, the lump growing in your throat making it borderline impossible. You hadn’t spoken about this in the last two years, using your travels to distract yourself. 

To hell with ignoring his instincts. To hell with keeping himself from you. To hell with being cautious. Logan gently took your hand in his own, briefly relishing in how soft your palm was. He wasn’t going to push you, he’d seen how well that worked last time. But he wanted you to know he was here. He was listening, if you wanted to continue. 

The silence dragged on as you stared at your smaller fingers interlaced with his, your nails digging ever so slightly into the back of his hand between his knuckles, and you sincerely hoped it wasn’t uncomfortable for him. 

“It got her killed.” Finally, it was out in the open. Finally, though it was nothing more than a shaky whisper, you’d said it. A tear slipped down your cheek, hanging from the line of your jaw. “It was supposed to be a survey mission. Nothing more. Draw up the layout of the land and report back, where we could actually formulate a plan. But I–” You sandwiched your lips between your teeth, hoping the physical pain would distract you from the mental. “I fucked up. I acted out of passion and rage. I saw what they were doing. I saw what they were fucking doing. They were kids, Logan. They were just kids. And they were being treated like prisoners of war. The torture, the experiments, the agony. I don’t remember what happened, but I snapped. 

“The next thing I remember was being back on the jet with my hands bound. I thought I’d been caught somehow, but they were all safe. All those kids were safe. But Jade was nowhere to be seen. I… nobody told me exactly what happened. Nobody needed to. Whatever I… did, she got caught up in it. Jade–” You refused to blink, refused to let yourself see anything but her smiling visage, one captured moment of pure joy before you’d decimated it. “They said she didn’t make it out. But I could feel it. I could feel the fear in the room. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know what happened, but it terrified them. My team and the kids. It fucking terrified them. And Jade was gone.” you finished, inhaling a stuttered breath, tears now falling freely from your lashes. 

Logan didn’t care that you gripped his hand so tightly he felt a shift in his damn bones. He didn’t give a shit that he could feel your nails almost break the skin of his knuckles, not that the sensation was unfamiliar to him. What he did care about, was the fact that he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t reassure you that it was your fault because it was, and he didn’t want to lie to you. You’d lost control, and it resulted in the death of your… friend? Lover? He still didn’t know the relationship between the two of you, but judging from the way your eyes sparkled in the photo, the way your smiled curled in pure adoration, he could figure it out. 

“It was an accident. You didn’t mean to,” was all he could offer. It was shit. He knew it was shit, and you laughed tearily, clearly knowing that.

“Yeah, tricky one to respond to, huh? But that’s why I stopped teaching before i went away. I just… couldn’t do it anymore. And I tried so hard to forget about her because that was easier. It was easier than remembering, as fucked up as that is,” you swiped away your tears with your unoccupied hand, and it took every fibre of Logan’s self-control not to take your face in his hands and do it for you. “So that’s what Kitty meant. It was shitty and unnecessary but I think I needed to hear it. I’m surprised she’s still friends with me, to be honest with you. Jade was like a big sister to her.” you sniffled, offering him a tight, awkward smile. 

Fuck, did you know how gorgeous you were? Even now? It saddened him to think you didn’t. 

“How d’ya know each other, you and Jade? You meet here?” he asked, hoping to inspire some kind of happy memory to associate with your past, rather than bottomless grief.

“Nah, I’d known Jade since we were kids. She was our neighbour growing up. There were eight of us in that little group. Stuck together since we were all mutants. Called ourselves Nine Lives Minus One. Or Nilmo for short. Some stupid inside joke I don’t even remember now, but she was the only one to come with me after I fell out with my brother.” He might as well know the rest of the story since you’d already come this far.

“What happened?”

“Eh, some stupid fucking argument, also don’t remember it. I just remember packing up and leaving one day, and Jade came with me. We weren’t… together, at that point. But I think we both knew we liked each other,” you explained lowly, absently staring at your still joined hands. “Jean and Scott picked us up on the side of the highway and brought us here. I begged them to go find the rest, but by the time they did, they’d all packed up and moved on. That’s what they told me anyway,”

“You didn’t go with ‘em?”

You shook your head. “Charles reassured us both the team would do what they could. Besides, we were caught up in actually learning about our mutations.” You didn’t mind this. Talking about her as if she were just someone you used to know. Someone who was a part of your past. Someone you didn’t fucking kill. Hurt still echoed through your bones like a cry in an empty room, but it was bearable. 

You let the quiet blanket the two of you, taking a moment to bask in his presence. To appreciate everything he’d done, and was still doing, for you. He still had questions, he must do, you knew you would if the tables had been turned. You do have questions for him. About his past, his mutation, and his life before the school. He hadn’t been here very long in the grand scheme of things, and you wanted to know what he was doing beforehand. He’d said it wasn’t a happy story, but you were mutants. 

None of you had a happy story.

“I, uh…” you began, tasting your words before you said them to make sure they were the right tone. God knows you’ve fucked that up too many times recently. “Look, I’m not expecting you to divulge your life story. Shit, after what I said earlier, I wasn’t expecting this,” you took a breath, turning your head to examine his features. “But at any point, you feel like you want to, or you feel comfortable enough to, I’m here. And I’m sorry. For what I said. What Kitty did threw me off and I lashed out.” You sighed, only capable of hoping he’d forgive you. You couldn’t imagine Logan was the kind of guy to give many second chances, but didn’t Charles just say that’s what this school was for? “And for what it’s worth, you’re a really good teacher.”

Logan stared, quietly stunned. Most people here had been kind to him since he arrived with Marie, and it was still a lot to get used to, but you were on a different level. The promise in your eyes, the hope in your tone, he didn’t think there would be a time when he couldn’t forgive you. Fuck, he’d known you were in here from the start. Simply ‘coming across’ you in the kitchen was just an excuse. He could smell you from the other side of the mansion, and before he knew what was happening, he was on his feet walking through that door. 

He ached to be around you. He yearned to touch you. To hold you. To have you. In any way you would let him. Acquaintance, friend, something more. He’d take every piece you gave him and fucking cherish it. You weren’t just some woman he’d met two days ago. He didn’t think there was a moment where you were just some woman he’d met an hour ago. 

From the moment he saw you, something in his heart snapped into place. And it had been a long time since he’d felt whole. Wordlessly, Logan stood from his seat, almost finding your confusion amusing considering what he was planning on doing.

It was a strange feeling, your soul sinking. You’d thought that this could have repaired whatever damage you’d done to your friendship, or whatever the fuck this was. But when he silently stood, you internally accepted that this was probably the most you were gonna get out of him. 

That was until he crossed to the radio on the counter and flipped through the stations, stopping when you heard a song you knew well. Your brows furrowed. What was he doing? He turned back to you, extending a hand, and your eyes flickered between his open palm and his face. Logan just looked at you expectantly, wiggling his fingers and nodding to his invitation.

You huffed a laugh of fond disbelief, before standing from your chair and taking his hand, allowing yourself to be brought into his embrace. Your arms hooked around his neck, wrists crossing at the short hairs at his nape. His hands settling on your waist as the static crackle of lyrics hummed from the radio.

‘Pass me that lovely little gun My dear my darling one’

“What’re you doing?” you asked, your soft smile untamable as you both started swaying slowly to the beat.

“Pretty sure they call it danicin’, bub,” he responded, eyes alight with an emotion you couldn’t place, but one you could get used to.

‘The cleaners are coming, one by one You don’t even wanna let them start’

A small laugh escaped your lips, fanning the lower part of his face. “I got that, but why?” You searched his face for an answer, from the slight crease in his brow to the bridge of his nose to the cupid’s bow of his lip. There your gaze lingered.

‘They’re knocking now upon your door They measure the room, they know the score’

“Honestly?” 

“Honestly.”

‘They’re mopping up the butcher’s floor Of your broken little hearts’

Logan’s hand left your waist to cup the side of your face, his thumb gently smoothing your cheekbone. “Truthfully?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, though you immediately returned to his features. “Truthfully.”

‘Forgive us now for what we’ve done It started out as a bit of fun Here, take these keys before you run away The keys to the gulag’

“‘cause I’m running out of excuses to be close to you,” he admitted quietly. And though it was nothing but a soft murmur of admission, you felt the wounded parts of your heart begin to stitch back together at his words. Their meaning. 

‘Here comes Frank and poor old Jim They’re gathering round with all my friends We’re older now, and the light is dim And you are only just beginning’

“You don’t need excuses, Lo’,” you hoped he could read the meaning of what you said. Hoped he could feel, just as much as he did, that you wanted to be near him. Close to him. You inhaled that smoky, pinewood scent you craved so much, torn between nestling your head beneath his chin and your need to drink in and memorise every peak, plain and valley of his face.

‘O, children, We have the answers to all your fears It’s short, it’s simple, it’s crystal clear It’s roundabout and it’s somewhere here Lost amongst our winnings’

Logan chose for you, guiding your head to rest against the hollow of his throat, his chin settling atop your hair. His arms circled your waist, pulling you tighter and holding you close against him. Peace radiated from your slowly swaying form, and knowing that the feeling came from him, your newfound sense of tranquillity, and warmth spread throughout his chest.

‘The cleaners have done their job on you They’re hip to it, man, they’re in the groove They’ve hosed you down, you’re good as new And they’re lining up to inspect you’

“I spoke to Charles.” he started, and you shivered slightly, the rumble of his voice resonating through every fibre of your being.

“He mentioned…” you smiled knowingly, thinking back to your conversation with the Professor. 

“I’m gonna oversee your mutation development,” it was a gamble, telling you now so soon after the argument from before, but he’d rather you know now than be thrown for a loop tomorrow. But his gamble paid off as you raised your head from his chest, your eyes brimming with unspoken awe.

‘O children Poor old Jim’s white as a ghost He’d found the answer that we lost We’re weeping now, weeping because There ain’t nothing we can do to protect you’

“Thought I said you didn’t need excuses.” you teased lightly, and he all but shoved your head back into the home you’d made in his neck, basking in the staggered breaths against his skin from your laughter.

“Yeah, well, that was ‘fore I knew. ‘N after you dressed me down earlier–”

“‘M still sorry about that.”

“I didn’t think you’d still wanna be… this.” He didn’t want to say friends. Because he didn’t think you were friends. There was something so much more between you, friends didn’t seem the right word. And you seemed to know it too, tightening your hold around his neck.

‘O, children Lift up your voice, lift up your voice Children Rejoice, rejoice’

“It was a bold move, I’ll give you that.”

 Logan could sense someone in the doorway, though whoever it may have been seemed to have the good sense to leave swiftly. 

‘Hey little train, we’re jumping on The train that goes to the Kingdom We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun And the train ain’t even left the station’

Logan lifted your head from his neck, calloused palm cupping the side of your jaw. “Darlin’, I’m nothin' if not bold.”

Your heart stopped as he leaned down, ever so softly grazing his lips against yours, testing the waters, a silent request. And you responded in kind, eyes fluttering closed and craning your neck to erase whatever space was left between you.

‘Hey, little train, wait for me I once was blind, but now I see Have you left a seat for me? Is that such a stretch of the imagination?’

Logan was wrong. Oh, he was so wrong. You tasted so much better than he imagined. That cherry chapstick wasn’t even on his mind as you kissed him along with the beat of the music, with each sway of your body. He barely managed to silence his groan, feeling the unbearable tension between the two of you slip away, making room for another kind of tension completely. 

‘Hey little train, wait for me Was held in chains but now I’m free I’m hanging in there, don’t you see In this process of elimination’

You drew back just far enough to exhale a breathless “Logan…” before the loss of contact became too much and he brought you in again, as if he could only breathe if he was connected to you. Your tongue swiped across his lips, another silent request, and his eyes rolled behind closed lids. Your nimble tongue weaved through his parted mouth. You tasted of summer storms and mountain forests and it wasn’t fucking fair.

‘Hey little train, we’re jumping on The train that goes to the Kingdom We are happy, Ma, we’re having fun Beyond my wildest expectations…’

The music started to fade, though as long as you could both hear the beat, neither of you stopped moving until the room trickled into to silence. You drew back once again, eyes still closed as you savoured what was left of him on your tongue. You were right. He did taste faintly of whiskey. Whiskey, tobacco and sheer, endless adoration. 

“You okay?” he asked, still a little breathless, still reeling slightly. Your eyes slid open and you smiled. You smiled in a way that stopped his heart and had him wondering if he was dead. Or at the very least, dying.

“Now I am. Wanted to do that back in the danger room,” you confessed to his cocked brow of amusement.

“Oh yeah? Thought you said you felt nothin’.” he jabbed with no trace of malice or bitterness. He’d known then it was a lie, but it was nice to finally hear you say it. More than nice.

Your face fell forward to hide your sheepish embarrassment in his chest, Logan’s hand moving to cup the back of your head, fingers grazing through your hair. “Ugh, can we never bring that up again?” your plea was muffled slightly, but he heard you loud and clear.

“Only if you agree not to keep talkin’ ‘bout how I didn’t think you existed.” He bargained, much to your gape of injustice.

“Absolutely no deal, that’s half my jokes right there! The other half is just you being old enough to b–”

“And that’s enough of that.” Logan cut you off, pulling you back up to press his lips to yours once again in a fleeting, silencing kiss. You chuckled against his mouth and he vowed there and then he would do anything to protect that sound. To protect you. 

“Fucking finally,” with the speed you withdrew from Logan’s lips, he was slightly surprised you didn’t break your neck as you whipped around to face the doorway, finding Marie and Kitty standing with their arms folded with exactly the same expression on their faces. He’d heard them approach, but couldn’t find the willpower to move away from you in time. You were fucking intoxicating.

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘finally’, it’s not like we’ve been pining over each other for years,” you sent a pointed look to Marie, and watched as she rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what you were talking about, but was clearly not in the mood to be wrong. “And this has been pretty fucking fast in my opinion,” you paused, glancing back to Logan. “Not that I mind, by the way.”

He shrugged, resisting the urge to grin. “Good to know.” A smile tugged at your lips as you removed your arms from around his neck, turning fully to face the two girls. Your eyes landed on Kitty, schooling your expression to one of subdued rage. You still hadn’t forgiven her for what she’d said, and judging by the way her face fell from smug knowing to sheepish regret, she knew too.

Logan sensed the shift in the air, looking between you and Kitty. “I’ll be in the lounge.” He muttered to you, planting a kiss on the side of your head and giving your arm a quick squeeze before gesturing for Marie to follow him. He knew you needed this time alone with your friend, and he also knew he was about to be subjected to Marie’s excited squealing and begs for details.

But he’d endure it if it meant you could sort things out with Kitty.

The room fell into silence as you stared at one another, both of you waiting for the other to say something first. Kitty’s eyes left your face, falling to the mug left on the table. Regret swirled around your gut as the light caught the brimming tears on her lashes. 

“I didn’t forget about her…” you said in way of explanation, running a tired hand down the side of your face. “No. That’s a lie. I did. I had to. It–”

“I know.” she interrupted you, holding her arm in vulnerability. “I know… I don’t know why I said what I said earlier. It was cruel. I know you have your priorities sorted, and I know what happened was a mistake,” your heart cracked as tears slipped down her face. “I miss her so much.” Whatever resolve she had not to cry shattered there and then as her words ended in a sob. You couldn’t remain angry at her, fuck you didn’t have the right to be angry at her in the first place. 

Crossing the kitchen in two strides, you pulled her into your arms, wrapping her protectively in your embrace as she cried, her hands weakly clutching your back. “I know. I do too. I miss her every damn day, and I’m so sorry I took her from us. From you.” You smoothed her hair, blinking your tears away rapidly. You couldn’t cry again, that would just be excessive…

Right?

You let her cry on your shoulder, simply allowing her to release whatever she’d had building since the day Jade died. You let her sob against your t-shirt, staining the fabric several shades darker until her cries quietened to nothing but hiccups.

“I hated you for what happened,” you let her words land, let them sink in. “I hated you so fucking much. I think… I think a part of me still does. But I saw what it did to you. I saw what happened in the days after. You were different. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always been a little chaotic,” she giggled slightly, and you nodded in confirmation. Yeah, you had been chaotic since the day you were born. “But you became manic. Frantic. I knew you were terrified in every class you had to teach after that, I could see it. I realised you were hurting just as much as I was. I’m so sorry I hated you. I’m so sorry a part of me still does, I don’t know how to stop it.”

You loosened your grip, placing your hands on her shoulders to look her in the eye. “You had every right to. You still do. I– I don’t know what happened that day. I still don’t. Nobody would tell me and at this point, I’m too scared to ask. And if, somehow, I could go back, I would change everything.” you admitted, though her slight cheeky smile wasn’t the response you were expecting.

“Even if it meant you and Logan wouldn’t be making out in the kitchen?” she asked, the mischievous glint in her eye exaggerated by the shining of her recently shed tears. You stuck your tongue in your cheek.

“Nah, that probably would have happened anyway. I don’t think things between Jade and I would have lasted…” you admitted. You loved her. You loved her so much, but the differences between the two of you were too great. 

“I also think I have the right to say the biggest told you-so in history.” She continued, and you lightly punched her arm. She was right. Of course, she was right. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. 

“Yeah yeah, I’ll buy you a ‘World’s greatest mind reader’ mug. I’m kinda glad you were right…” you smiled as you thought of him, the moments you’d already shared. Kitty laughed, using the sleeve of her jumper to wipe at the damp streaks down her face.

“Oh girl you are down bad. I hope he knows you had sex in the bin shed of that bar you used to work at. What was it called?” she teased, and you clamped your hand over her mouth.

“No, he doesn’t know that Kitty Big-Mouth,” you whispered loudly, laughing through your words. “The bar was called Shots Shack, and he will never know that.” It wasn’t your finest moment. The bar had some extremely relaxed drinking policies for the staff, and to say you were a little tipsy was an understatement. Some guy had just been in the right place at the right time, flirting relentlessly with you. It had been more of a ‘fuck it why not’ moment but you still weren’t exactly proud of it.

Kitty started talking behind your palm, and you had half a mind to leave it there, but your morbid curiosity got the best of you. “Huh?”

“I said he should probably know how nasty you are. Who knows what escapades you got up to on your travels?” She grinned and you wanted to clamp your hand back over her mouth to stop her from spilling all your secrets. 

Your heart settled at her contented sigh, the weight lifting from her shoulders almost visibly. “Thank you for this. Despite everything, and despite a part of me still hating you, you know I love you to pieces, right?” you could see she was genuinely worried, her brows creasing ever so slightly.

“Yeah. I know.” You smiled broadly, and she mirrored your expression. 

“Go on, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the lounge. Besides, I have to somehow convince Marie to actually talk to Bobby if she wants him to actually know she exists.” she rolled her eyes, and you snorted.

“Can’t imagine that’ll be an easy conversation. And Logan’s not my boyfriend, we still only met three days ago.”

“And yet you were dancing and holding each other like you’ve been married for decades. Yeah, totally not your boyfriend.” she wiggled her brows and you pursed your lips to stop yourself from smiling. Throwing your arm around her shoulders, the two of you fell into step easily, instinctively, leaving the kitchen and heading into the lounge. 

The TV had been turned down low, the glow changing every few moments as whatever show Logan and Marie were watching progressed. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so relaxed, his arm stretched across the back of the sofa, legs crossed at the ankle, his feet propped up on the coffee table. 

Before you’d even said anything, he turned to the door, smiling instantly as he looked between you and Kitty. Or rather, as soon as he looked at you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“I’m here to return your girlfriend in exchange for my friend,” Kitty smirked as she ducked out from under your arm. You huffed in faux irritation, though paused when Logan didn’t correct her. He hadn’t looked away from you, his smile hadn’t faded or shifted in any way. “C’mon Marie, we need to debrief.”

The girl nodded as she rose from the sofa, casting a glance at Logan and grinning wildly as she noticed the same as the rest of the room. Linking their arms together, the to girls left, chattering away and you could distinctly hear Kitty gloating about how she knew from the start.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You grinned, using his own words against him. 

Logan blinked back to reality. In all honesty, he was completely caught up in the memory of the two of you in the kitchen, arms encased around each other, basking in the intimacy. It was only when you spoke did he remember you were right in front of him again. He raised his arm, a silent request for you to join him, and one you read instantly, hopping over the back of the sofa and onto the plush cushions.

“How’d it go?” he asked, draping his arm around your shoulders to hold you tightly against his side as if he’d been doing it forever. It felt so natural, so routine, it was hard to remember the two of you hadn’t been doing this forever. He felt at peace again the moment you settled, next to him.

“Yeah, well. We talked everything out, cried, ya know, the usual.” You breathed a peaceful sigh. After the events of the day, you genuinely didn’t think it would end this well. Sorting everything out with Kitty, you and Logan acknowledging whatever the fuck was between you, and now settling for what looked to be a cosy evening? You couldn’t be happier.

“You’re starin’, bub.” You shook your head slightly, breaking yourself from your reverie. Had you really been staring? 

“You’re nice to stare at.” Logan snorted at your shit-eating grin, pushing your face to look elsewhere. You laughed beneath his palm, instantly bouncing back to his side profile. Fuck he was gorgeous. Utterly and undeniably beautiful. But you only spared yourself a fleeting glance, scooting down the sofa slightly to settle into the crook of his arm.

His hand mindlessly travelled to your waist, drawing small circles with his thumb. Though you were both looking at the TV, you had a feeling he was watching it just as much as you were, which was absolutely none. Sure your eyes followed the movements of the characters, watching as they engaged in some cockamamy scheme to kidnap some children from an orphanage, but you weren’t actually watching. Not when you felt so comfortable your lids started to grow heavy, your breathing slowing a fraction. 

“So. Shots Shack. Wanna tell me ‘bout that?”

Nevermind. Sleep couldn’t be further from your mind as you shot bolt upright from his side, your mouth wide in shock, staring wildly at his smug face.

“Wh– How did y– Did Kitty tell you? Motherfucker! Oh, she is so fucking dead the next time I see her!” you seethed, looking out the door as if she were waiting behind it and giggling to herself.

“Kitty didn’t tell me.” You could fucking hear how smug he was, and you were torn between smacking him in the chest or smothering his lips with your own.

“Wait, then how did you–?” Logan cut you off, pointing at his ear.

“I’ve got real good hearing, didn’t ya know?” You narrowed his eyes at his faux condescending tone, now leaning much more toward smacking him in the chest. “Part of the mutation, darlin’. Got good sense of smell too, and eyesight. Just senses in general. So I heard all about your sexcapades in that bin shed. Makes a man wonder wh–” It was your turn to cut him off, smacking your palm over his mouth.

“It was one time and I was a drunk eighteen–year–old. I don’t make a habit of taking people behind the bins to fuck ‘em, so we can never talk about this again, yeah? Yeah.” you answered for him, not even giving him time to nod or shake his head from beneath your hand, his eyes alight with sheer and pure amusement. Honestly, it was almost worth living through the mortification just to see that alone.

You kept your palm solidly in place until Logan rolled his eyes and held his hands up in surrender. Keeping it against him for another few seconds just for safety, you finally removed it, squinting at him with no small degree of suspicion. 

“I’m done,” was all he said, though you didn’t need super senses to smell the mischief on him. This man might genuinely be the death of you and only now were you realising it too late. You slowly settled back against him, your head resting against his chest as the volume on the TV was raised slightly, Logan setting the remote back down on the arm of the sofa. “Although, I am curious–”

“Nope. Goodnight Logan.” you went to stand, only making it a few inches on the sofa before strong, sinewy arms wrapped around your middle, tugging you back against a wall of muscle so hard you were almost winded. Christ, it was like hitting cobblestones.

“No ya don’t, sorry sweetheart, you don’t get outta this that easy,” you attempted to wriggle free, finding yourself woefully basked in light, the only shadows to be found pitched in the corners of the room or behind bookcases. With every struggle, Logan’s grip tightened until you had to stop, unable to breathe both from laughter and from a simple lack of oxygen.

“Okay, okay I concede!” You panted, sagging against his chest as his arms loosened to the point where you could shuffle down further, lying across his lap, your face a picture of unadulterated joy as you caught your breath, one hand braced against your stomach. 

“You gonna talk now?” he asked with a raised brow, his smile never faltering. You closed your eyes, grimacing slightly as you tried to remember. Was his name Jordan? Or was it Josh? Joe…?

“Look, in all honesty, I don’t remember much of the night. We had a super relaxed drinking behind-the-bar policy, and it wasn’t uncommon for all of us to be tipsy bordering wasted most shifts. This guy just happened to be in the right place at the right time,” you explained as flatly and as matter-of-fact as you could without wanting to crawl into a ball and die. “I mean, he’d put in the work, was flirting with me all night and I’d just thrown back two strawberry daiquiris and a cherry picker at the end of my shift so what’s a girl to do?” 

“Fuck someone in the bin shed, obviously.” 

“Right? Worked in that shithole for three years of my life. It was totally a front for a drug cartel. There’s no way that place is open now, it was so fucking dodgy.” you sighed fondly, remembering those long nights dragging into the early hours of the morning, belting some shitty seventies song at the top of your lungs after the doors closed, mopping like your life depended on it to the beat of Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd. You swore you could still nail that solo on Guitar Hero.

“Sounds like average hospitality to me,” Logan shrugged, and you gaped at him in mock offence.

“They might have all been super scary drug dealers, but they were super scary drugged dealers that had my back on more than one occasion. Sorta treated us all like one huge family. It was… nice.” you were only realising now how much you missed your old life. How much you missed living with your brother and hanging out with the rest of Nine Lives Minus One, or Nilmo for short. You wished you hadn’t deleted his number. Wished that somehow you could reach out to him, or any of your old friends. None of them had texted you back, so you assumed they were all still mad at you for an argument you didn’t even fucking remember.

Clearly, they all did.

What was that argument about anyway…?

“You look exhausted.” Logan’s brows pinched slightly in concern. He’d noticed it earlier, the area beneath your eyes had darkened slightly, and your skin looked a little paler than it did a few days ago when you’d walked through those doors. And the way you smiled tiredly at him now confirmed everything he was thinking. 

“I’m a shadow-walker, Lo’. I’m not supposed to look like sunshine.” You leaned into his touch as his fingers tucked a strand of your hair from your face, and he listened to the way you almost fucking purred when he ran his fingers through the roots of your hair, repeating the movement a few times. This is what he couldn’t wait for. To learn each and every one of your little quirks like this. The way your lids fluttered slightly even though your eyes were cold. The way your jaw clenched and unclenched as if you had to manually remind it to relax every few moments. The way your brow furrowed ever so slightly when he stopped and smoothed again when he continued. 

Everything you did fascinated him. Captivated him. Even the things you didn’t know you were doing. Logan brushed your hair from around your neck, a gesture that was supposed to be calming and soothing.

At least, it was for you. 

What he saw stopped his heart, his hand faltering. A scar decorated your pulse point, no more than half an inch wide and barely a millimetre thick, but it was deep enough to leave its mark on you. His thumb traced the mark delicately, and you suddenly jerked away, eyes opening slowly to peer up at him.

“You have a scar here…” he murmured, his hand returning to your hair. He wasn’t expecting you to have jumped like that, to almost flinch as if he’d stabbed you himself.

“That I do. Perceptive guy,” you smiled, closing your eyes again, seemingly unbothered by the situation. It put him at ease, at least. You didn’t seem to care.

“Where’s it from?” he asked.

“Used to get into a lot of fights as a kid. I have a few of ‘em in the most random places, which now doesn’t make any sense since my body breaks down and reforms every time I shadow-walk but eh, I’m not too bothered by them,” you did the equivalent of the world’s smallest shrug, and Logan dropped the topic. Until they understood more about your mutation, there wasn’t much he could ask that you could have a solid answer to. 

Turning his attention back to whatever trashy TV show had been in the background, the two of you sat like this until the credits rolled and a new episode started anew, continuing on the trashy story from the trashy previous episode. It wasn’t until he noticed your breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm and you were no longer twitching did he swich it off. You really were exhausted, and Logan was a little terrified to move you in case you woke up. That and, if he was being truthful, a large part of him didn’t want to move. But he knew you’d wake up sore in the morning if you slept like this, so he steeled himself to gently manoeuvre you off his lap, supporting your upper body as he stood. 

“C’mon sweetheart, time for bed,” Logan whispered, stooping to lift you into his arms as smoothly as he could. You frowned in your sleep, tensing your jaw, but made no further movement as he steadied himself. Stepping around the sofa, Logan sincerely hoped everyone else had gone to bed. This would be incredibly tricky to explain in a way that wasn’t either extremely concerning or extremely obvious. 

He hadn’t managed to check his watch before he picked you up, so all he could do was hope and pray he didn’t come across anyone. And whatever gods had been watching had also heard loud and clear, the journey from the living room up to your bedroom on the third floor being as quiet as he’d ever heard the mansion.

Shouldering the door open, Logan propped it open with his foot as he shuffled inside, instinctively cradling the back of your head as he passed through the doorframe. He took a breath, pleasantly surprised as all he could smell was you. The last time he was in this room, you’d barely been back an hour, not nearly long enough to leave your scent anywhere. But now, now being in your room was a whole different experience. He was surrounded by you. Consumed by you. It made him want to build up the pillows on your bed and never leave, huddle you against him for all eternity. Hold you safe and never let you go.

However, since he’d only just kissed you today, he’d manage to hold out on the protective behaviour for now. And he sincerely hoped that would last since he was certain your training was going to be anything but safe for you. At least he would be there, by your side. He would be there to drag you back if anything went wrong. But nothing would go wrong. He wouldn’t let it.

Setting you down on one side of your bed, Logan pulled back the covers on the other side. Fuck it was getting so much harder to resist climbing in alongside you, but he grit his teeth against his instincts. One step at a time he promised himself. 

You weren’t in any kind of sleepwear, but he didn’t think you were the kind of girl who cared too much what she slept in, as long as it was comfy and not jeans. He smiled as he imagined you saying just that, though knowing your foul mouth, you’d probably slip a ‘fucking’ or ‘shit’ in there somewhere. And you’d changed into a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved T-shirt which seemed comfy enough.

Logan tucked you in, staying for so much longer than he needed to, before finally admitting to himself that adjusting your bedside clock for the fourth wasn’t necessary and he was just stalling. He didn’t want to leave. Shit, every fibre of his being was screaming against leaving. But he had to. Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss against your brow before touching his forehead against your own, simply feeling you.

“Sleep well, firefly.” The nickname came to him in the moment, and he couldn’t help but think just how well it suited you. A blinking light in the darkness. You were a beacon of hope for him, and he hoped that one day, you could see yourself in the same light he saw you. 

Maybe one day.

[tokkiwrites]

summary: you are staying with your aunt this summer. she loves talking you to places only she enjoys, so when your night together was becoming increasingly irritating, a handsome stranger shows you that jazz clubs aren't so bad.

tags: pwp, old man logan, human logan, age gap, mention of divorce, afab reader, sex with a stranger, sex in a public space, p in v unprotected (that's spooky!! don't do it), creampie, dirty talk, a few pet names, sir kink, a little breeding kink (for like a line).

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! I'm kicking this off with a logan fic because i can't be stopped. this is around 3.1k words, so i hope you enjoy it. omg, my 2nd kinktober guys, yeppeee. IF YOU SEE ANY TYPOS NO U DIDN'T

The people here don’t rush—they settle. its something you had to learn the hard way, now that your parents left you with your aunt for the summer. She enjoyed the finer things in life, like pearls that had to sit perfectly, right above her clavicle, aged whiskey with no ice in it, and jazz clubs.

"Oh, I wish I grew up during those times... the roaring twenties. Everything was much more sophisticated andㅡ what's that word..? oh, polished." she went on. "Yeah, and more racist." you perk up. "Young lady! Your dad left you with me so you can straighten your act up. Now you speak when I tell you to." her voice was stern.

"Oh, now I truly feel like I'm in the 1920s, next up, my lobotomy!" you say with a strained smile whilst doing the infamous 'jazz hands'. By the time you finish, your aunt is red in the face, and it wasn't from the absurd ammount of rouge she had on. You clear out your throat and get up from the table. "I'll go use the washroom. Sorryㅡ" the woman scoffs as you turn around and leave "We'll talk about this home."

holding in your giggles, you swiftly make your way to the bathroom, finally letting go of the laughs you were keeping down as you close the door behind you. you didn’t hate your aunt, you hated that she tried to be something she wasn't; those pearls were not 'swanky originals' as she would say when people asked, but a $7 gift from her cheating, ex-husband. then again, maybe that why she felt the need to create this persona when others are around. and maybe that's why your parents sent you away from home, as to not hear about their inevitable divorce. it's not like you were a child. you were their child, but an adult nonetheless. alas, you were 22, stuck in a jazz club with your divorcee aunt, laughing all on your own.

well, almost.

"What's so funny, young lady?" what. the. fuck. why is there a man in the woman’s bathroom? and why is he talking to you? "Excuse me, old man, this is theㅡ" you raise your voice, and you turn around to face him but the words get stuck in your throat as you lay eyes on him. he was stunning, incredibly handsomeㅡ to say the least. His dark hair, streaked with the slightest touch of silver at the temples, was slicked back with utmost precision. A neatly trimmed beard framed his strong jawline, the salt-and-pepper strands giving him a distinguished air, as if life had brushed him with just the right amount of experience without taking away any of his vitality. His eyes, a deep, knowing hue, carried the weight of someone who had seen the world, yet still found wonder in it.

"Lady? Hey, 'r you okay?" he pulls you out of your trance. "What, oh- I, yeah! What are you doing in the ladies room?" you finally speak up again and he raises one of his brows before questioning you again. "You sure? 'm pretty positive the door distinctly said 'mens room' then againㅡ" he point to the sign printed on the door "I'm just an old man, so you might be right." oh, how you regret calling him that. even though he was oldㅡ not the old you meant when you said it. with your face scrunched up you turn around and read the sign.

fuck.

"What's it say, sweetheart?" he prys as you let out a defeated sigh. "mens room.." you reply. "what's that? sorry, I'm so old I can barely hear ya." you ball up your fists in embarrassment and say it louder. "mens room."

"Yeah...mens room." you can hear the sound of his footsteps coming closer from behind you. His voice was low, teasing, the kind that sent shivers down your spine despite your frustration. You could feel him standing behind you now, the warmth of his presence far too close for comfort. His breath brushed against the back of your neck, and you bit down on your lip to suppress the strange rush of nerves rising in your chest.

"Looks like you wandered in here by mistake," he said, voice smooth and almost amused. "But I won't hold it against you. Happens to the best of us, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. There it was again, the casual endearment that somehow made your skin prickle. You turned around to face him once more, trying to muster some semblance of composure, though it was nearly impossible with him standing near you. Up close, he was even more disarming, his gaze sharp yet somehow warm, like he was in on some private joke you hadn’t quite caught on to yet.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he cut you off, one corner of his mouth lifting into a crooked smile that sent your pulse racing. "No harm done. Besides, it’s not every day I get to have a conversation this... interesting in a bathroom." he motions his hands around.

"I didn’t mean to call you old. That was... uncalled for."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through the air between you. "Don't sweat it. I've been called worse, trust me. Besides, a little gray never hurt anyone, right?" He ran a hand through his hair, almost like he was flaunting it, as if daring you to disagree.

You found yourself at a loss for words again, caught between wanting to melt into the floor and the strange, undeniable attraction pulling you toward him. a little gray never hurt, indeed. "So," he continued, breaking the silence as his gaze roamed over your flustered expression. "What’s a lady like you doing in a men's room anyway? Trying to stir up trouble?"

You rolled your eyes, finally finding your footing again, and crossed your arms over your chest. "I could ask you the same thing, considering you're not exactly rushing me out of here."

"Maybe I’m just enjoying the company," he said, his voice dropping just a bit lower, sending a flutter through your stomach. "Or maybe I’m just waiting to see if you figure out how to get out of this mess." the man takes a step closer. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a small laugh. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he replied, stepping even closer, his voice now barely more than a murmur. "But you're still standing here, aren't you?" his palm now sitting on the small of your back, and it feels like you've been waiting for this your whole life. it was disarming, intoxicating—how effortlessly he touched you, as if he’d always known you, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady the pounding in your chest, but the way he looked at you made it impossible. His eyes, deep and piercing, held you in place, like they were pulling you into some unspoken dance, something wild and unnamed.

"Not saying much now, are you, sweetheart?" he whispered, his lips so close to your ear you could feel the heat of his breath. His fingers splayed ever so slightly against your back, and you swore you could feel your pulse thrum beneath his touch, like a melody. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to moveㅡ to break away from him this instant, but your feet were rooted to the spot.

"I'mㅡ" you tried to speak but your voice betrayed you. The curve of his mouth shifted into a slow, devilish smile as his hand slid a fraction lower, just above your hip, a silent invitation pulling you nearer.

"See?" His voice was like velvet, wrapping around you. "Maybe you didn’t wander in here by accident after all." he tuts. "Your daddy was right, you do need straightening up, sweet thing."

"Y-You know my dad?" and he can only chuckle. "I don’t, baby," he drawled, "But that little fight you had with your aunt a few minutes ago? Well, it was heard by more ears than you think." You’d thought your quarrel was contained, tucked away in a corner where no one could witness the messy unraveling of your family drama. But apparently, you were wrong—so very wrong.

"I-It wasn't really a fight.." you huff, trying to fight the growing warmth in your core. "Right, you were just being a brat. I got that, too." your eyes find his again, heart plummeting into your chest. "I'm good with brats." god, how wrong it all felt, yet you couldn't find a way. you didn't want a way out. your aunt was waiting, but you were dripping with arousal in the arms of an older man who was a complete strangerㅡ not to forget you were in the bathroom of a bar, where anyone could walk in on you at any moment. but was it so wrong to want what's wrong?

"So...You gonna let me teach you some manners, young lady?" The words hang between you, igniting something you couldn’t name , but you felt it, burning, spreading. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. No, you didn’t want to care. you felt drawn, tethered to him by something far more primal, more consuming. The risk, the recklessness—it was intoxicating. You couldn’t deny the hunger that twisted in your belly, the way your body leaned into his touch despite the alarm bells ringing faintly in the back of your mind. Maybe you’d always been waiting for something, or someone, to break you out of the mold you were supposed to fit into.

"You're thinking too much, sweetheart," he teases, his voice low and rough, sending warmth coursing through you. "Just let go. You know you want to."

The last piece of resistance crumbles. You don't want to fight anymore. You want to see where this will go, consequences be damned. You want the wildness, the chaos, the thrill of stepping outside the boundaries you've always kept yourself within.

Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and submission. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. "Good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches.

"Can you at least...tell me your name? please?" You’re caught in this moment, teetering on the edge of something dangerous, and part of you needs to know who has you under their spell.

"My name’s Logan, sweet thing," he says, the name rolling off his tongue with a rough edge, like it holds more than he’s letting on. His fingers trail lightly along your shoulder and down to your cleavage, the contact making your breath hitch. "But you won’t be needing it for now," he adds. "You'll be calling be sir. Understand?" whatever happens next, you're no longer in control so you nod your head eagerly, but he isn't satisfied. "Speak, girl."

"Yes, sir." you force the words out. The moment you say it, you feel the world tilt, like something has shifted between you, pulling you further into the depths of whatever this is. The man's lips curl into a smile yet again, he reaches behind you and you close your eyes. you hear a faint click and then a soft chuckle. "Let's hope no one gets a hold of the key, wouldn't want anyone to interrupt our time here, unlessㅡ" your cheeks heat up, your thighs now pressed further together. "You'd like us to get caught, huh? Dirty girl." those last words send your head spinning and you swear you could come just from his voice alone. you never thought you'd be in a situation like this, but deep down, you wished someone just walked through that door only to see you splayed out under Logan.

without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large golden mirror above the counter. Logan groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the sink, your hips snug in his grip. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous, baby."

"Thank you, sir." this earns you a tug at the hair, his face right in the crook of your neck. "Say that again, baby." and you do. even if to you he's just a stranger, the need to obey him burns at your insides. you can feel his hard-on rubbing against your ass, so you press up against him making logan hiss. "You getting cocky, miss? Or are you just that excited for an old man to fuck you?"

you look down. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up your almost see-through dress, finally taking a look at your soaking panties that were barely covering anything. His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. Without a warning, you hear the material rip and feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor. "Pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his trousers. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low. this doesn't last long, as you feel his rough palm grab at your face and pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the mirror and you see him shake his head. "No, no. You watch while I fuck you, understand?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly. "Words, baby, words."

"Yes, sir." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough, turning you into a whining messㅡ truthfully you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, logan starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thorns; every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- there we go.." he praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. Logan moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.

his hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Logan. "Fuckㅡ sir, please.." you manage. pulling at your hair he starts "What if your sweet aunt walked in just now, huh? What ifㅡ fuck! What if she saw how good you take this cock? Yeah, nice and deep, there ya go, baby, there ya go." while thrusting relentlessly into you, your legs barely holding up anymore.

Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? feel you up with my babies? let people inside this room, let them see your pussy filled with my come- you want that?" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, sir, I'mㅡ"

"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, sir!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. With a few more snaps of his hips you know he's close, nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your walls with white ropes. "God fucking dammit!" you know that you'll be bruised tomorrow.

the bathroom feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. Logan watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm beads of come trickling from inside of you, down your thighs. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths. you feel like you are floating.

The sounds of the world fade away, leaving just the echo of your heartbeats. The weight of what just happened presses down on you both, thick and suffocating as you exchange glances through the mirror. Finally, you break the silence. “What do we do now?” The realization sinks in. What's done is done. "We clean you up and pray no one heard anything, baby." Logan laughs reassuringly, sensing the uncertainty in your voice.

maybe jazz clubs nights with your aunt aren't so bad after all.

[lycheedr3ams]

ℑ𝔩𝔩 𝔐𝔢𝔱 𝔟𝔶 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

werewolf!könig x fem!reader

Prologue | October 29th | October 30th | October 31st

Summary: You're a bakery worker in the small, isolated town of Heiligenblut, Austria. König is a hunter and lumberjack who stays to himself and always has an aura of mystery and darkness. and through a series of strange circumstances, you're the one to uncover his secret. (set in the modern-day) CW: fem she/her reader, no use of y/n, adult content, predator/prey dynamics, werewolf-fucking, mentions of animal carcasses and blood, a bit unsettling at times, slight dub-con Note: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG BUT I FINALLY DID IT! also here's the link to the rest of the series if this is your first time finding it

WC: idk

LORE EXPLANATION, READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: i had to make up some of my own werewolf lore mixed with real world history, so plz bear with me: when a werewolf falls in love with someone, and that person also falls for them, the werewolf becomes spiritually tied to this person. when this spiritual connection is created, the werewolf's ties to the spiritual realms are interrupted. the werewolf must physically bond with the person whom the feelings are mutual with to restore the werewolf's connection to the other realms. Halloween is the day when that veil between our world and the spiritual one is thinned, allowing for connections to take place. this is why people always wore costumes: to scare off the ghosts that came onto our plane during this time. i can't say anything else without spoiling it, just know most of this is NOT from folklore, i just made up my own werewolf lore bc plot~

this is the last part! get ready for some werewolf sex lol.. I felt kinda weird writing this, plz don't judge

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME A YEAR

previously on October 30th...

könig slowly closed the distance between you two, his arms returning to his sides. you looked up at him, feeling a bit jumpy; he had been so unpredictable this whole night. he placed his large hands on your shoulders, engulfing each one, and gently pressed his fingers into you. his attempt at holding you close, maybe? but his arms seemed to tremble, and his breathing was shaky and loud, almost like he was a crazed man. you leaned away a little, but könig brought his masked mouth to your hear.

"please," he whispered desperately into your ear, his voice slightly cracking. his entire body trembled before you. "please help me."

October 31st - midnight

you looked at könig with your head slightly tiled to the side. help him? "what do you mean?" you asked. "if you're talking about hunting, I can't help you with that."

könig pressed his fingers into your shoulders a little more, his large form trembling. "yes, actually, you can." he said cryptically.

you glanced around his cabin. there were no guns, no bows or arrows, no traps, nothing at all that looked like it could remotely kill a deer or wild boar. könig sensed your hesitation.

"do not be afraid," he said through gritted teeth. he took a few steps back from you, his arm wrapped around his stomach almost as if he was going to throw up. your eyes widened.

"what's wrong? are you sick?" you took a few steps towards him, but he stepped back again.

"don't get any closer...not yet," he said quietly. he looked at you from the corner of his eye. you had thought his eyes were brown, but maybe it was the lighting that seemed to turn them golden.

"könig, just tell me what's going on! the whole town is wondering what happened to you and why there's no feast for Halloween!"

König's demeanor shifted, and a noticeable tremor ran through his spine. it almost looked like he was convulsing, or being possessed by something. your heart skipped.

"ah, so that's what they say?" his voice was suddenly more menacing, the words almost coming out as a snarl. "they think I am incapable. sheep begrudging the wolf."

“Um… well, just tell me what’s going on,” you offered with a shaky voice.

König stared at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as he thought. “You won’t believe me” he huffed out.

“Try me.”

…

König’s demeanor grew nervous for a moment. He fidgeted with something in his pocket and his eyes darted around. “I’ve just been having a problem.”

“With what? Just tell me König” you said pleadingly.

“Have you ever wondered why I always catch the best meat out of the other hunters? Why I’m so solitary, why I never train anyone to hunt with me?”

You took a shaky breath in. “Yes, I have.”

König’s chest tightened. “It’s… because…because I’m a werewolf,” he said in his thick Austrian accent.

You froze, and couldn’t help laughing for a moment. “König, werewolves aren’t real.”

“They are!” He yelled, causing you to shrink back in fear. He slumped his shoulders and stepped back, regret clear in his eyes. “They are real. But I can’t show you because of my problem.”

You stared at König with an incredulous expression. Why the hell was he saying he’s a werewolf? But if you thought about it, if anyone was a werewolf, it definitely would be him.

“Okay. So you’re a werewolf” you repeat. “How could I possibly help you with that?”

König’s cheeks reddened slightly under his mask, an expression you had never seen from him before.

“It’s… hard to explain. I swear I’m not making it up.”

You nodded. “Just tell me.”

König took a long breath before fidgeting with something in his pocket again. His eyes were averted from yours as he spoke.

“When a werewolf… falls for a human, their soul becomes tied to them. I know it sounds crazy,” König stared pacing around the cabin, his steel-toed boots thudding against the tattered wood flooring. “The werewolf can’t transform until they know their feelings have been returned. But that’s not all of it.”

You stood silently, waiting for him to continue. He took another deep breath.

“The werewolf can’t transform out of his human state until he… he…” König looks away, almost shamefully. “Until he is intimate with the object of his affection.”

Your heart skipped and your cheeks got hot. Intimate? “Like….”

“Ja,” König nodded. “Like… that.”

You blushed. “So let me get this straight. You’re a werewolf. You’ve secretly liked me but didn’t know I liked you back. You can’t transform into a werewolf again until you’re intimate with me?”

“…Ja” König said flatly after a pause.

“This… this is insane,” you said.

“I know it sounds insane. But listen, bitte” he almost pleaded. “The reason why I haven’t gotten any prey for the festival, the reason everyone is doubting me, is because I can’t transform. And it’s all because I fell for you.”

You took a deep breath. “So if we’re intimate, you can become a werewolf and hunt again?”

“Ja,” König said.

“Fine. All right.”

König’s eyes seemed to light up. “Really? Do you agree?”

“I do,” you said with a nod. “If it means everything will go back to normal, then I will. I mean, I can’t lie… I’ve wanted to do this with you for a while now.”

König’s eyes turned predatory, and you thought you nearly saw a wolf in that moment.

…

König restrained himself as much as he could. He helped you onto the bed and hovered over you, his body heat emanating in waves. Your breathing instantly deepened. Just the presence of König from over the bakery counter was intimidating, but having this beast of a man on top of you? You thought you could’ve turned tail and ran.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked as he tilted your chin up with his index finger. You nodded breathlessly, and he didn’t waste a moment before pressing his chapped lips onto your soft ones. you thought he must've been starving with the way he was gently gnawing on your plush bottom lip, or with the way he lapped at your mouth when you parted your lips for him. you tried to back away slightly, just to catch your breath, but he held the back of your head firmly with his large palm, his fingers slightly digging into your scalp as he smushed his face into yours. when konig was finally out of breath, he looked at you with wide eyes, and you wiped your cheeks clean with your sleeve.

the air was thick with tension, nothing but the sound of the crackling fire and wind in the trees to fill the silence. until suddenly, konig pounced on you. his kisses were even sloppier than before, his large body pinning you down on the deer-fur carpet on the cabin floor. he hastily yanked at your clothes, growling when they got in his way. you helped him take off your clothes, but he was too eager and didn't even wait until you were fully nude. your panties hung on one of your ankles, one bra strap still clung to your shoulder.

konig looked at you with the most desperate look a man had ever given you. his eyes were half-lidded, and his lips half-parted as he breathed heavily from between them.

"you ready, ja?" he asked as he unceremoniously ran two fingers between your lips, feeling your warm slick. you mewled, not expecting the pleasure from his rough, calloused fingers so soon. he looked at you, almost with intrigue, as he teasingly rubbed your clit. you squirmed slightly, your eyes shutting as you moaned. but konig couldn't wait for you to orgasm. he tugged his pants zipper down, not even bothering to undress at all.

"i can't wait, i need you now". he parted your pussy lips with his large fingers and sunk into your slick, wet heat. you both moaned in unison at the delicious stretch of his cock.

he tried to be gentle at first. he really did. but he finally had you. he couldn't hold back, not at all. the filthy, wet, sticky sounds of your coupling filled the cabin as he rutted into you like a rabid animal. he grunted when he saw your breasts heaving with his thrusts, knowing that you were feeling so good because of him.

his grunts filled your ears as he pinned you up and open, your knees by your ears. his head was bent next to yours, forehead on the floor as he pounded into you. he gasped and groaned, feeling your warm, tight, wet heat around him. your face was contorted in ecstasy, your toes curling.

but suddenly, konig's eyes seemed to...change color? he groaned loudly, almost as in pain, and you felt fur rather than his sweat-slicked skin against your chest. before you understood what was happening, konig had transformed into a werewolf. even though konig had explained to you what he really was, you hadn't expected this of all things, for him to turn into a werewolf while he was fucking you.

but the pleasure he was now giving you, with his large, girthy cock was just enough to completely make you unable to think. all you could do was take, take the pounding that this man-beast was now giving you. You didn’t even have the brain power to think about any embarrassing faces or noises you were making from the sheer pressure and heat and force that his cock was giving you. The rickety wood of the floorboards creaked rhythmically as konig, in full werewolf form, fucked you on the floor of his cabin.

His fucking was not gentle, and it was so intense and loud and hot that it made you see stars. One of konigs large, half-human half-beast paws gripped the back of your head when it tipped back against the floor. His claws gently pricked at the edge of your years, causing your spine to tingle and your walls to flutter. It was single-handedly the worst and best physical sensation you had ever experienced.

His growls sounded in your ear as his thrusts lost their rhythm and grew erratic. You heard garbled words in your ear as he tried to speak with his wolf muzzle, but you couldn’t make out any words. You pulled on the fur of his back as he mated with you, your toes curling in the air and back arching at the delicious feeling of his werewolf cock inside you.

Suddenly, his cock went deeper and what you now realized was his knot slipped into you. You gasped from the slight burn of the stretch, but your insides were quickly soothed when he came inside you, a pleasant and full warm feeling that leaked out from where you two were joined. You panted as if you had just sprinted, while his breaths came in huffs from between sharp, gritted teeth. You closed your eyes for how long you weren’t sure, and konig was human again when you came to, lying naked beside you.

“I must hunt.” He said matter of factly as he stood up and got dressed. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t find the words to speak, not after everything that had happened. Not only did you just fuck the untouchable konig, you fucked the untouchable werewolf konig.

“How…am I dreaming?” You asked.

Konig leaned down beside you and brushed your hair away from your face. “Nein, you are not dreaming. It is real. I will be back. Stay here.”

And just like that, konig left the cabin in the dead of night.

…

You awoke the next morning lying in konigs bed, covered in soft fur blankets. You blinked open your eyes and saw konig sitting by the fireplace, staring into the flames. His normal black face mask was back on, and his eyes widened when he saw you were awake.

“Are you hungry?” He asked simply.

You nodded. Konig got to fixing you a plate of food, fresh catch from what you assumed was his hunt last night. He kneeled down next to the bed and gently, almost reverently, placed the plate in your lap. He watched you as you ate.

Konig cleared his throat. “Because of you…I was able to bring meat back for the festival. I hunted all I could, and the festival went on.”

You nodded, not really sure what to say. Konig noticed.

“I know you must be thinking about a lot right now. Just eat. Everything will be okay. I am not a monster.” The crinkle in the corner of his eyes betrayed a smile hidden underneath that face mask.

You smiled and shook your head, realizing how sore your body was from the events of last night. You supposed that konigs secret didn’t matter, as long as you got to benefit from it every full moon.

Thank you all for being here

taglist: @osteawb, @sleepystaarr, @vvampir3s, @simpxinnie, @majocookie, @sharkyyyyyyyyyyyy, @marysdelrey, @kybeth5, @chaos-on-stand-bi, @shannonswizzies, @arcadia509, @bloodstoneruby, @cumikering, @skystreamchan, @junkratssheila-09, @kit-williams, @tangerynsbaby, @dreamdiaries777, @royalbxstxrd, @non-satanic-panic, @theweirdchick, @kiyomisan, @maylif, @mortimoshi, @eneiss, @daughter-ofthe-forest, @celi-xxmoon, @mangoguy, @babypeanut02

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

This wonderful little show has come to an end, and I feel compelled to tell folks why I loved it, and why you should watch if you haven't yet. First, a big word of thanks to @isaksbestpillow for providing her excellent subtitles and making this show available to international fans. You can find all seven episodes here, get them while you can!

This drama understands that sometimes we really do want to fuck that old man

I don't know what to tell you, the man is hot. He is kind, patient, and generous, he's a master chef, he has a beautiful home with a garden that he tends himself, he is a loving dog owner, and on top of all that he has a hilarious dry wit. Who wouldn't want to fuck him??

Ishida is an endearing protagonist having a relatable quarter life crisis

Ishida certainly does! Which is a nice little revelation for him in a time when he's already struggling to figure himself out, as it's his first time wanting to fuck a man and his work colleague to boot. Ishida has hit a stumble in his original career choice and is feeling pretty apathetic about his job when he meets Mitsuya and gets his world rocked.

Mitsuya is a weary older man who has been burned

Mitsuya is quite a contrast to Ishida as an older adult who very much has his shit together, but has also survived some deep hurts living as an out gay man and grown reluctant to let people in. He and Ishida both see something in each other that the other needs.

It's a food drama that will make your mouth water

The food Mitsuya makes and serves to Ishida in this show looks so delicious that I had to make sure I was fed before watching each episode. Mitsuya can feel free to bait me with food any time.

Shige is my idol

We get to spend ample time at the neighborhood bar, where Mitsuya's old friend Shige serves drinks and hot goss. Shige is a great mix of the wise elder gay dispensing advice and the mischievous trouble maker who likes to stir the pot. I love him, and this show's understanding of the realities of men their age living out and proud.

Frito is a very good dog

FRITO! I'm not always too hype about pets with prominent roles in my shows, but in this story Frito is an important character and an emotional support to Mitsuya, and often provides impetus for Mitsuya and Ishida to grow closer.

Have I mentioned this show is hilarious

Truly, so funny. I laughed out loud during most episodes. Ishida is a walking comedy show as he flails through life, and the few moments when Mitsuya's dignified exterior cracks will have you howling.

It gave us one of the best dates I have ever seen on my screen

I still think about this date all the time. It was so beautifully written to underscore why this couple fits and how they each meet the needs of the other. Just having seen this one day spent together, it's easy to understand how a life between the two of them would unfold.

This show has a mature and nuanced understanding of relationships

We get deep into the show's perspective on love and romantic relationships via the return of Mitsuya's ex, Kaoru, a plot which the story handles with remarkable grace. I loved the space they gave to Mitsuya's former love and need for closure, and that Kaoru was not treated like a villain. He even got to provide an assist to Ishida!

The main romance feels deep and compelling

All of this adds up so that by the time we got to the finale, I really believed in this romance and why Ishida and Mitsuya needed each other, and the way the show dug into their hesitations and fears around that was so moving. My only regret is this show is short and we can't follow them to keep watching their lives together, but we got what we needed to feel confident in their future. I will miss them.