#also don't hit the lights is SO Heart

[hms-incorrect-quotes]

....

Why is this mind-coded.

Cos anything Miku is mind coded of course

[boxwinebaddie]

🎸 happy uncneen pepinursteppermint wintereve 🍬 ❤️‍🔥

❤️🤘 + ft. how i think my styles would say HYH

[aberooski]

Luke's solo album really is just Chazz - the album - sometimes and I don't like how that makes me feel.

[paragonrobits]

some important calvin and hobbes facts in case you haven't read the original comic strip in a long time or only absorbed stuff on it from memes and out of context bits on here:

Calvin's last name has never been given, and neither has any of his parent's names. This was actually why his uncle Max only showed up for a brief storyline; the creator of the comic, Bill Watterson, ultimately felt that while it was fine to have him as someone for his parents to talk to, it felt far too awkward to never have Max refer to them by name and he never made a return appearance.

The general tone of the comic is fairly light-hearted, with a big emphasis on goofy slapstick comedy contrasted by clever wordplay and often surprising adult-centered jokes that'll hit you like a slap. A big part of the comedy is, as Watterson put it (paraphrased) "It's really funny to me when people express deeply stupid ideas with really fancy terminology." One notable example you might have seen is that one bit where Calvin asks his mom for money to buy a Satan-worshiping rock album and his mom replies that there's nothing genuine about them and they're just putting on the attitude for shock value, and comisserates with Calvin as he deplores that mainstream nihilism can't be trusted. He concludes that childhood is disillusioning.

There is a LOT of criticism of the extreme materialism and selfish mentality of the late 80s, when the comic was initially written. This may go a long way to explain how its aged so well; much of what it criticizes resonates well with people today.

Bill Watterson views comic strips a legitimate form of artwork, and repeatedly fought to have more space to draw more beautiful and artistic backgrounds, which was a very hard fight and unpopular even with other comic strip artists. He eventually did win some compromises and a lot of Calvin And Hobbes' artwork shows it, with the use of space to indicate time as well as a sharp contrast between the often plain environments of mundane life contrasted by the wildly beautiful imagery of Calvin's imagination (which often sports realistic depictions in an art shift of sorts).

Hobbes is explicitly not an imaginary friend, by word of Watterson himself. We don't know WHAT he is exactly, and Hobbes is apparently unaware of the strange nature of his reality; people look at him and only see an ordinary stuffed tiger plushie, but he has a tangible effect on the world that would be physically impossible for Calvin to do on his own. He's apparently been around for a while, and was apparently around when Calvin was a young baby.

On that note; Hobbes has implicitly killed (notably treated as both a gag and also with the vibe of 'he's a tiger, duh') and while he doesn't do it again on-screen, he doesn't have any moral issues about it. Calvin claims that he's never had trouble bringing Hobbes to school because the last time he did, Hobbes killed and ate a bully named Tommy Chestnut and simply comments that it was gross and he needed a bath. Calvin's tried to repeat this again, but Hobbes was grossed out at the thought having to eat a kid raw and not being allowed to use an oven first, or complaining that children are too fattening.

Hobbes became gradually less human-like in body language and more like an actual cat in both body language and behavior; this was due to Watterson drawing more inspiration from his cat, who also inspired a lot of Hobbes' running gags, such as pouncing on Calvin when he got home. Several years into the syndication of the strip, Watterson's cat passed away, and he did a tribute to her with a comic strip of the two of them agreeing to try to dream together so they can keep playing when they have to sleep; Watterson's commentary (if I recall right), remarks on his cat: "We can see each other again in dreams."

[d1stalker]

Collateral Damage [Logan Howlett]

SUMMARY: The X-men are heroes—they save the world, eradicate threats and protect both mutants and humans alike. You don't see it that way, though.

WARNINGS: one-sided e2l, fem!reader is stubborn and sassy af but it's valid, arguing, canon-level violence, scott's a dick, SMUT - 18+ only! WC: 21k - MASTERLIST

A/N: i've always wanted to write a fic with this plot, it's been on my mind for AGES. happy reading!

----

The first time you see them, it’s on your birthday.

Not being one for big, elaborate parties, you planned a quiet celebration instead—maybe a stroll through the lively city streets, followed by dinner with friends later. You had just visited your favourite store, buying a gift for yourself, and now you’re on your way back home.

The streets buzz with life as people shop, eat, and laugh, making it the perfect backdrop for a peaceful walk and some casual people-watching.

Then, out of nowhere, the ground trembles.

At first, you think it’s an earthquake—a quick jolt beneath your feet that sends a ripple of confusion through your body. But the tremor grows stronger, the ground shaking violently as everyone around you begins to panic, frantically looking around for the source, you included. And that’s when you see it. 

A hulking, green monster stomping through the city streets like something out of a nightmare. It has to be at least twenty feet tall, its skin a sickly shade of green, its eyes glowing with rage. Cars bounce with each heavy footstep, leaving deep footprints in the cement in its wake.

People scream, scrambling to get out of its path, but you stand frozen, heart pounding as you try to make sense of what’s happening. In the blink of an eye, the city had been plunged into chaos. You lose track of your surroundings, too busy trying to keep your eyes on the monster headed your way, while also dodging the hoard of pedestrians running for their lives.

Until they show up.

Initially, you don’t even notice them. After all, there’s so much going on around you at this point you barely know what to do with yourself. Yet, through the dust and destruction, you see flashes of movement—figures darting toward the monster with a sense of purpose. 

You don’t know who they are, but their bright blue and yellow suits make it seem like you should. At first glance, it’s hard not to feel a sense of awe. They move with such confidence, with their powers on full display for the world to see. You’ve never seen anything like it—a team of mutants using their powers in the open, fighting for what you assume is the greater good.

Maybe they can stop this!

The one first to act is a woman with white hair. She raises her arms to the sky, her eyes glowing a bright white as dark clouds swirl above, blocking out the sun. A flash of lightning slams into the monster's chest, forcing it to reel back with a thunderous roar of agony, and the crowd around you gasps, watching in wonder.

But when the lightning strikes a second time, it veers off course, crashing into the side of a nearby building. The structure groans under the impact, flames erupting from the point of contact as windows shatter, sending glass raining down onto the street below.

The collision sends you to the ground, and when you look up again, you see the power inside go out, all the lights flickering off.

Whatever awe you’d been feeling dissolves into concern, a sinking feeling settling in your chest.

Following her, a man with a glowing red visor strides forward. He’s clearly aiming to hit the monster, but the bright red beam shooting from his eyes slices through several cars in the street first, flipping them over and leaving them in smoldering wrecks. One of the blasts tears through a storefront, reducing it to rubble in a matter of seconds. More people scream and scatter, trying to escape the destruction.

From the corner of your eye, you see another mutant—a man with claws—lunge toward the monster, jumping onto cars to get closer to its head. But by using the parked cars as springboards, the weight of him causes the roof to sink in, and his claws leave deep gashes in the metal. 

How heavy is this guy? Is he made of metal or something?

He’s fast, brutal, slashing at the green beast with some serious ferocity. Still, despite the attack, the monster’s strength prevails, and it easily tosses him aside, crashing into buildings, crowds—anything in the way. To your surprise, he always gets back up. And that should be good, right? They are fighting for the safety of the city. 

But as debris rains down and cars are overturned, you can’t help but feel like this isn’t helping. You’re constantly dodging rubble, trying to find shelter, only for it to be destroyed seconds later. It’s like being in a war zone, and it doesn’t seem to be getting better.

And above it all, there’s a woman with red hair. She’s floating, and you watch from where you’re hiding as she lifts entire trees from their roots, hurling them at the monster in an attempt to slow it down. Except, much like her teammates, her attempt goes awry, and she misses, the trees now flying toward you. 

You barely have the reflexes to dive out of the way.

Your heart races, breath coming in shallow bursts as you press yourself against a wall, trying to steady yourself. The sound of sirens blare in the distance, but it doesn’t seem like help is coming anytime soon. There’s too much going on. People are running, pushing each other aside, crying, screaming, trying to find safety.

Glancing around, you’re met with destruction—flames licking at the sidewalk, cars totaled, and building wreckage littering the streets. These mutants, while clearly powerful, are causing just as much destruction as the monster itself.

What should have been a simple takedown—a 6v1—has turned into a full-scale disaster.

And yet, they don’t stop. They don’t pause to help the people caught in the crossfire, don’t even seem to notice the damage they’re causing. They’re so focused on the monster, so focused on the fight, that they’ve lost sight of everything else.

Is this what heroism looks like? You’d been excited at first—amazed, even—thinking they were here to save the day. But now, standing in the middle of a city that’s being torn apart, you realize how wrong you were.

They don’t care. Not about the city. Not about the people. 

Finally, with one last blast from the man with the visor, the monster collapses to the ground, defeated. It lets out a final roar before falling still, its massive body sprawled across the street.

The team stands over its body, their chests heaving with exertion, but they have smiles on their faces, feeling victorious. One by one, they board an aircraft, dragging the monster in with them, barely sparing a glance at the horrors they’ve caused. The white-haired woman doesn’t even bother to clear the storm clouds she summoned.

Within moments, they’re gone. You, and everyone else in the area, are left to deal with the fallout. Left to clean up their mess. 

Happy birthday to me, I guess.

—

After that, you spend the next few days trying to process what had happened. You’re still in a state of shock, confusion, and disbelief, but then the media catches wind of what went down, and suddenly, it’s everywhere.

News channels replay the footage over and over, the headlines screaming about “our holy saviours” saving the day. They’re plastered across every screen, being hailed as protectors.

The X-Men.

A group of mutant superheroes, apparently. The reporters list them off one by one, like they’re celebrities you should have known about. 

Storm. Cyclops. Wolverine. Jean Grey.

Mutants with powers like gods.

—

The second time you see them, you’re on vacation.

Sitting in a quaint café in the south of France, you’re enjoying a well-deserved break. The city you’re in is perfect—cobblestone streets winding through the village, vine-covered walls framing pastel-colored houses, and the scent of fresh bread drifting from nearby bakeries. It all feels like something out of a dream, the kind of peaceful retreat you’ve been desperate for after everything back home.

You order a frappé, and as you wait, you idly flip through a local newspaper, trying to see how much of your rusty high school French you can remember. It’s peaceful, quiet, exactly what you needed—until it’s not.

Movement out of the corner of your eye grabs your attention, and you glance over the edge of the newspaper, watching a group of tourists as they walk into the café. It’s not really anything odd, so you don’t think much of it—they’re dressed casually, like any group of vacationers.

Though, something about them tugs at the back of your mind, a nagging feeling that you’ve seen them before.

You lower the newspaper entirely now, staring as you try to place where you recognize them from. The tall one with the red sunglasses, the woman with the striking white hair, the man in the leather jacket... You squint, the pieces slowly falling into place.

And then it hits you.

Oh, no way.

You’re halfway around the world, in a different country, on a different continent, and somehow, they’re here. At the same café. 

Shifting in your seat, you’re trying to figure out what the hell is going on, when the barista arrives with your drink. He smiles warmly at you, placing the cup down on the table with a soft “voila madame,” but before you can even thank him, there’s a blur of motion.

One of them—Wolverine, you think—lunges at the barista, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him back. The tray tips, and your frappé spills everywhere—all over the table, your newspaper, and, to your absolute horror, all over you. 

“Logan, no!” you hear Storm shout, but it’s too late.

The cold drink soaks into your clothes, and you let out a startled yelp, jumping up as your chair topples over. Your clothes are ruined, your vacation ruined, and in the midst of all of this?

Wolverine—or Logan, you guess, is wrestling with the poor barista.

“What the hell?!” you shout, trying to shake off the liquid dripping down your legs. “Is this a joke?!”

No one hears you, or even acknowledges you.

The other mutants jump into action, and before you know it, the peaceful café is transformed into yet another battleground. Cyclops blasts a beam at the barista—who you now realize must be the target of whatever mission they’re on—but it misses, smashing into the wall behind you. 

You’re furious, covered in a brown drink that makes it seem like you just had explosive diarrhea, and caught in yet another X-Men fiasco. All you wanted was a vacation. You don’t even know what’s happening anymore—who the barista is, what mission they’re on—but frankly, you don’t care.

This is absurd!

Without a second thought, you grab your bag and make a break for it, dodging overturned tables and debris as you make your way to the exit. You don’t bother looking back, your only thought being to get changed, and get as far away as possible.

After rounding the corner, putting some distance between yourself and the café, you pause for a moment to catch your breath. And then you hear it.

Boom.

The sound reverberates through the narrow streets, shaking the cobblestones beneath your feet. You whirl around, sticking your head out from the corner of the building, just in time to see a plume of smoke rising into the air from where the café once stood. 

Your heart sinks.

They blew it up.

—

The third time you see them, it’s a really nice day outside.

It’s a week after you’ve returned home, and the weather had finally given you a break from the suffocating heat. You’re walking home from a lunch with an old friend, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Probably said friend sending you something stupid to laugh at later. 

You chuckle, already anticipating the joke, when—

BAM!

Something slams into you from the side with the force of a freight train. You’re airborne for a second, weightless, before crashing hard onto the pavement, your breath knocked right out from your lungs. 

Dazed, you groan and blink up at the sky, trying to get your bearings. What the hell just hit me? Your vision swims as you sit up, shoulder throbbing from the impact. Twisting your neck to see whatever the hell that was, you immediately regret it, wincing at the sharp pain. 

Great, just great.

When you finally manage to sit up, you spot the culprit.

Cyclops.

Are you fucking serious?!

His back is to you, dusting off his ugly uniform like nothing happened. You look around, and notice that the street in front you is in ruins—buildings have gaping holes where windows used to be, chunks of the road are crumbling, people covered in blood scurrying away as fast as they can. 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, you catch a glimpse of the giant mechanical robots looming above, scanning for their targets. One of them must’ve thrown Cyclops into you. 

You can see the others—Jean, Storm, Beast (some new guy)—flying around, saving the world. That’s codeword for: wreaking havoc, destroying your city.

Anger boils up inside you, hot and unrelenting as you struggle to your feet, rubbing your sore shoulder. But as you open your mouth, a gruff voice cuts through the air.

"Good job, dickhead. You just hurt a civilian."

Your gaze snaps toward the sound. Wolverine’s standing a few feet away, claws out, glaring at the guy who sent you flying. 

“I was thrown, Logan,” he says passively. “Maybe if you kept the Sentinels off me—”

“Maybe if you didn’t stand there like a damn target, you wouldn’t get thrown!” The clawed mutant growls, taking a step closer. His whole posture is tense, like he’s barely holding himself back from tackling the other man into the ground (you would pay to have him do it). “Seriously, Summers, it’s like you want to get tossed around.”

Cyclops doesn’t even flinch. “We’ve got bigger problems than this right now,” he dismisses, not even glancing back at you to check if you’re okay. 

Well, there goes the last of your patience.

"Are you kidding me?!" you shout, throwing your hands up in disbelief. They completely ignore you, too absorbed in their petty bickering to acknowledge that you’re still standing there, seething.

Before you can rip into them, something catches your eye—a Sentinel (is that what they’re called?), hovering above them, charging up a blast. Its arm is raised, energy crackling at the barrel of its cannon, aimed directly at the two distracted morons.

“Oh, for the love of—” you mutter under your breath before diving forward.

The blast hits you square in the chest, but instead of pain, all you feel is the heat of the energy surging through your body, like lightning spreading through every inch of your veins. It crackles and burns, the force building up inside you until it feels like you’re about to explode.

Then, with a deep breath, you thrust your hands forward, channeling and releasing the blast right back at the robot, blowing it apart. Metal and circuits rain down, the Sentinel crashing into the ground with a deafening thud.

Silence falls.

You’re panting, feeling the leftover energy fizzle out of your fingertips. Slowly, you turn back around, and unsurprisingly, Cyclops–or Scott, as you’ve heard in the news—and Logan are staring at you like you just walked on water. Well, the clawed one is. You can’t really see the other brown-haired man’s expression due to his visor.  

“Woah, bub—”

“Oh, hell no!” You spin around fully, pointing an accusatory finger at both of them. “Neither of you get to speak! I just saved your asses because you were too busy bickering like children to notice the massive death robot about to blow you to pieces!”

Logan’s mouth quirks up, but he wisely stays silent.

“And this is exactly why I hate you people!” You continue, exasperated. “You swoop in, make a mess, destroy everything in your path, and then just leave like nothing happened! You think this is helping anyone? You think the people running for their lives right now give a damn about your little team squabbles?”

Scott doesn’t even blink. “We’re just trying to help,” he says evenly, like he’s rehearsed the line a thousand times.

“Help?” you scoff incredulously. “You only tell yourself you’re doing that to make yourself feel better. How many casualties do you think are coming out of this, hm? What’s the body count gonna be after today? Or do you not even bother counting anymore?”

His audacity makes you want to laugh. He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re not done.

"All this mess, the destroyed buildings, the people who won’t make it home tonight because you couldn’t keep your damn fight contained! You’re so focused on stopping the big bad guys that you don’t even realize how much carnage you leave behind. Who’s cleaning up after you? Who’s paying for this?! " You gesture around wildly. "News flash: the people whose lives you’re currently ruining!”

Beside him, Logan’s smirk fades, and he begins to step forward with his hands raised. “Listen, darlin’, we’re doin’ the best we can. We didn’t ask for this fight—”

"Oh, don’t give me that ‘best we can’ bullshit," you snap.

“We’re here to protect people,” Scott adds in, trying to maintain authority. “It’s not always clean, but we are making a difference—"

“Shut the fuck up! I’m not finished!” You interrupt, shaking your head. “Every day. Every damn day there’s something new.”

With the face Logan’s making, you’d think he’s going to start going in on you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just watches, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to figure you out. It’s unnerving, but you don’t care. You’ve had enough.

"And you," you say, turning your ire toward him, "You couldn’t have, I don’t know, used your super speed or whatever the hell you do to catch him before he crashed into me?"

His eyebrow quirks up. “Super speed?” he chuckles lowly. “Ain’t that fast. Was a little busy with the giant killer robots.”

You tilt your head back in frustration and turn on your heel. "I’m done. I don’t care what kind of mission you’re on, or how noble you think it is. If you're planning to lay waste to the city yet again, be my guest.”

Giving no time for a response, you stalk off, weaving through the wreckage of the city streets, your heart still pounding in your chest. 

—

A couple weeks have passed since the last incident, and the X-Men seem to have disappeared from the headlines. You haven’t seen them or heard their whereabouts splashed across the news like you’ve gotten used to—though not by choice, of course. Whenever they do anything, the world seems to bow at their feet.

You don’t get it.

The flashy suits, the team name, the way they strut around as if they’re the Gods of the mutant race. It’s too much, too loud. They act like they’re above it all, as if their powers and heroics put them on a pedestal. Better than those who prefer to lay low, who have no choice but to blend in.

You’ve spent years hiding your powers, keeping them buried deep where no one can see. When you were younger, you didn’t have a choice. Your mutation made you a target—bullied, beaten up, pushed around for being different.

You learned quickly that being a mutant didn’t make you special. It made you vulnerable.

So, you hid. You stayed quiet, under the radar. It was safer that way.

And then here are the X-Men, parading around like their abilities make them untouchable, like they’ve forgotten what it’s like for the rest of you. It’s not that you don’t believe in helping others—you just don’t believe in the way they do it.

In your opinion, it’s all performance. From what you’ve experienced and seen up close, they always arrive with a fanfare, ready to jump into action, and do whatever they can to exterminate the threat. Yet, when the dust settles, it’s mutants like you who are left to pick up the pieces.

The ones who don’t wear brightly coloured costumes or shout about unity. You’re the ones who have to keep moving, keep surviving, without any recognition.

But it's not like you need recognition. You never have. What you need is peace.

—

You’re on the phone with your mom, trying to reassure her for the millionth time this week.

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, Mom, I’m fine," you say, pacing the length of your small living room. You glance at the muted TV screen, the news still cycling through the usual mayhem. "You’ve seen the news recently, right? We’ve got the X-Men to take care of all this stuff—"

Knock. Knock.

You freeze mid-sentence, your words trailing off as the sound of someone at your door interrupts the call. Your heart skips a beat, and your voice drops. "Mom, I’ll call you back."

Barely waiting for her to reply, you end the call, staring at the door like it might explode.

A knock at this hour? Unannounced? You waver, your mind racing with possibilities.

Delivery? A neighbour? You’re not expecting anyone.

Cautiously, you make your way toward the door, hand hovering over the handle as you listen. No more knocks, just the faint hum of the outside world. You take a breath, steeling yourself as you turn the handle and crack the door open.

The tufts of hair, the thick stubble, the edge in his eyes—it’s him. Wolverine. And just as your brain registers his face, you also notice the glint of metal where his claws are already halfway out.

Instincts kick in, and before he can get a word in, you push against the door, trying to slam it shut.

Still, he’s faster.

His fist punches through the wood, and with a metallic snikt, his claws extend fully, slicing through the door as if it were made of paper. He pushes it open again, forcing it against your effort, and the sheer strength sends you stumbling back.

“What the fuck?” you gasp, eyes wide as you steady yourself. “How did you even find me?”

Stepping inside, he says, “picked up your scent and followed it,” matter-of-factly, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

For a moment, you just stare at him, dumbfounded. “That’s… that’s actually really creepy,” you manage, still trying to process the fact that he just said that without a hint of shame.

“Can’t control it, bub,” he shrugs. 

You take a step back, putting more distance between you and the man with the claws standing in your apartment. “Okay, well, you found me. Now what?”

His eyes lock onto yours. “I need you to come with me.”

“Excuse me?” You cross your arms, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. 

“You’re not safe here.”

“Oh, I’m not safe?” you snap, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Maybe if you and your merry band of idiots didn’t keep causing world-ending disasters, I wouldn’t need to be safe!”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Sentinels are tracking you down.”

You falter. “What are you talking about?”

“You used your powers,” he states. “Killed a Sentinel. That’s all it takes for them to target you.”

Blinking, you feel anger rush to the surface, your skin tingling with rage. “I didn’t kill anyone. They’re fucking robots.”

“They don’t see it that way,” he counters. “You took one down, and now they know what you are.”

Part of you knows there’s merit in what he’s saying, but you don’t want to hear it. The last thing you want is to be dragged into some mutant-robot war. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t ask for any of this!” you hiss, glaring at him. “And now you’re telling me I’m on some kill list because I defended myself? Because I defended you?!”

His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite read, but he stays silent, watching you carefully. Your words start flying faster now, venom spilling into each one.

“I’m the one who took that thing down because you and that one-eyed bitch boy were too busy being immature! You weren’t even paying attention, and that thing almost blasted you both.” Your fingers ball into fists. "I saved both of you, and now I’m the one who has to run?"

Logan's jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring at the accusation. “We weren’t—”

“Don’t even try to deny it,” you cut him off. “If it weren’t for me, the two of you would be dead right now. And now I’m supposed to just go with you to your mansion and hide out? Like that’s going to fix th—”

You don’t get to end your rant, because he has stepped forward, and grabbed your shoulders, gripping you firmly. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to snap your attention back to him.

“This is serious,” he spits, eyes boring into yours. “You stay here, you die.”

His words slam into you. He’s not trying to scare you—he’s telling the truth.

“You don’t get to be stubborn about this,” he continues firmly. “You think you’re pissed off now? Wait until they come crashin' through your door in the middle of the night, and you don’t have a chance to fight back.”

Wrenching yourself out of his grasp, you take a few steps back. “I just—” you begin to say, but the words feel tangled in your throat. The denial is still there, but it’s weakening, cracking. “I don’t want to run.”

“You’re not running,” he sighs, his voice softening ever so slightly. “You’re buying time. Time to fight back, time to survive. But if you stay here? There’s none of that.”

You want to argue more, want to scream at him to get away, to not drag you into his fight, but instead, you let out a long, shaky breath, your shoulders slumping. “Fine,” you breath out. 

He nods, finally releasing his grip on you and stepping back. “Good. Pack up your shit. We leave in half an hour.”

Then, he walks over to your couch and plops down like he owns the place, crossing his arms as if settling in for a casual wait.

You roll your eyes, muttering under your breath. “Unbelievable.”

Ignoring him, you turn and head into your bedroom, where you start throwing clothes into a duffel bag—jeans, a couple of shirts, whatever you can grab quickly. Your movements are hurried, fuelled by a mix of frustration and the creeping anxiety gnawing at the edges of your mind. Grabbing your toiletries, you stuff them into a smaller bag, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that some random mutant tracked you down, and now you have to leave your life until you’re safe. 

You peer back into the hallway, hearing the faint creak of the couch as Logan shifts around. I’m gonna kill this guy, you think to yourself. 

Once everything is packed and you’ve zipped your bag, you head back into the main room, only to see said random mutant still sprawled on your couch, looking far too comfortable, with a cigar in his hand.

“Seriously?” you say, slinging your duffel over your shoulder. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you.”

He grunts in response but doesn’t move. Typical.

You glance at the clock—still a few minutes left of the half-hour he allotted you, but there’s no point in dragging it out. “I’m ready,” you say flatly, heading toward the door.

Logan stands, stretches his arms over his head, and cracks his neck like he’s waking up from a nap. “Let’s go then.”

—

The ride is tense and quiet, which suits you just fine. You’d rather not talk to him anyway. Every now and then, you let out a loud sigh, unable to hold back the annoyance you’re feeling. Each time, you feel Logan’s eyes dart toward you from the driver’s seat, but he doesn’t say anything. Well, that is, until—

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he growls, keeping his eyes on the road.

You clench your jaw, shifting in your seat. “I didn’t even say anything, jackass.”

He huffs, clearly not in the mood for an argument, but the strain between you is almost impossible to ignore. You cross your arms, staring out the window, observing the landscape shift as the drive continues. 

Eventually, you can see the outline of the mansion, and you watch as it gets bigger and bigger the closer you get. Upon arrival, He pulls the car up to the front and cuts the engine. You both sit there for a moment, mute. 

“Well, here we are,” he mumbles after the pause stretches on for an uncomfortable amount of time, glancing over at you.

“Great,” you say sarcastically, unbuckling your seatbelt and pushing open the car door. 

Logan walks ahead without saying a word, leading the way up the grand stone steps toward the front door. You trail behind, your mood darkening with every step, glaring at the perfectly polished entrance. 

The doors open before you even reach them, and you’re greeted by an older man in a wheelchair—Charles Xavier, if you remember correctly. The famous telepath. The genius behind the mutant team (some news anchor's words, not yours). His expression is kind, but you’re in such a bad mood, you don’t even bother trying to seem polite.

“Welcome,” He says with a warm smile, his eyes assessing you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. “Logan’s told me a lot about you.”

You press your lips together in a line. “Yeah? Well, don’t get too excited.”

Logan grunts beside you. “She’s got a bit of an attitude,” he mutters to Charles, then turns to you, gesturing you to follow him. “Come on.”

Inwardly groaning, you have no choice but to follow him. Everything about this place screams “too good to be true,” and you hate it already. You’re used to keeping your head down, blending in, not being surrounded by people who wear their powers on their sleeves like some badge of honour.

As you walk through the halls, a few faces appear—other mutants, some of them kids, watching curiously as you pass by. You can feel their eyes on you, can hear the whispers already starting about the new arrival. 

Charles wheels alongside you, still smiling, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You remind me of Logan when he first joined us,” he says thoughtfully.

That stops you in your tracks.

You whip your head toward the man, giving him a piercing look. “Do not say that. We are nothing alike.”

On your other side, Logan smirks. “Not sure if I should be offended or not.”

“I’m serious.” If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under.

Chucking softly, Charles seems completely unaffected by your outburst. “You’re both a bit rough around the edges, but you’ll find your place here.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say. “Because that’s exactly what I want to do.”

Deeper into the mansion, you catch sight of the X-Men you’ve seen before: Cyclops, Storm, Jean Grey. They all turn to look at you, sizing you up. You don’t flinch—you just stare back, your expression hard.

Pulling your duffel bag higher on your shoulder, you rip your eyes away from theirs, and keep walking, following Logan down the long, quiet hallway. Finally, he stops in front of a door.

“This is your room,” he grunts, nodding toward it. “Try not to break anything.”

Choosing silence, you push the door open. Stepping inside, you expect the bare minimum—a bed, maybe a closet—but instead, you’re met with a surprisingly large space. There’s a massive bed in the center of the room, a desk by the window, and, to your surprise, a set of glass doors leading out to a balcony.

You drop your bag by the door, glancing around, trying to shake off the unease. This is way too nice for a prisoner. You walk toward the balcony doors, curious despite yourself, and when you pull them open, the cool breeze hits you immediately.

Once you’re outside, you realize something that immediately makes your stomach drop.

The balcony is shared. And right next to your side, leaning against the railing with a cigar between his fingers, is Logan.

You halt mid-motion, eyes fixed on him in stunned silence. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He glances over, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a drag of his cigar. “Surprise.”

You groan, turning your back on him and walking toward the opposite edge of the balcony, trying to calm the annoyance inside you. Of all the people you could’ve been stuck beside, it had to be him. It’s not enough that he dragged you here, but now there’s a chance you’re going to have to see him every time you step outside.

“So what now?” you mutter, staring out over the mansion grounds, the manicured gardens below looking like something out of a postcard. “I’m just supposed to stay here, be a part of your little mutant club?”

Taking another slow pull on his cigar, “You’re supposed to stay alive. Everythin’ else? That’s up to you.”

“But why do you suddenly care?” you ask. “I’ve seen the way you operate. You and your team sweep in, fight your battles, and then leave everyone else in the dirt. You don’t care about the collateral damage—hell, you cause half of it.” 

Logan pauses, his cigar halfway to his lips. He doesn’t answer right away, and the brief hesitation only makes your irritation spike. You press on, inching closer, voice laced with accusation.

“Why now?” you press. “Why drag me into this when you’ve never cared about anyone else in the crossfire?”

Logan finally turns to face you, exhaling a cloud of smoke before speaking, his expression hardened. “This ain’t about me ‘caring,’” he says flatly. “This is about survival. You killed a Sentinel, whether you like it or not. That puts a target on your back.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that very clear,” you bite out. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Why me? Why am I suddenly important to you?”

Logan’s eyes darken, drilling into yours. “You’re not important to me,” he says flatly. “But they won’t stop until they get you. The destruction that’ll come from that—if your stubborn ass fought back, which I know it would, by the way—would be much greater than anything we would cause.”

“Doubt that,” you snarl bitterly. You don’t linger for the sound of his response, spinning on your heel and walking back into your room, slamming the balcony door behind you.

The bed is large and you can’t deny how inviting it looks after the day you’ve had. You flop onto it face-first, letting out a long, drawn out sigh.

You’re barely able to reflect on the chaotic day you’ve had before your eyelids flutter shut, and you sink into a deep slumber, the exhaustion from everything catching up to you.

—

You’re jolted awake by a loud, aggressive knock on your bedroom door. The sound is so forceful it feels like the entire frame is rattling. You release a sound, half groan, half sigh, steeped in frustration. Your face is still buried in your pillow, and you curse whoever decided to ruin what little sleep you managed to get.

“Get up,” Logan’s gruff voice calls from the other side of the door. “We’re leaving for breakfast in ten.”

Ah yes. Of-fucking-course it's him. Who else would it be?

Dragging yourself out of bed, you throw on some clothes and make a half-hearted attempt to fix your hair before opening the door, ready to curse him, but he's already striding down the hallway, hardly bothering to check if you're following. You roll your eyes, your steps slow and begrudging as you move to follow

As you catch up, you can’t help but throw him a sideways glare. “Why are you acting like my personal bodyguard?”

“Gotta make sure you don’t do anything reckless.”

You scoff, crossing your arms as you fall into step beside him. “You don’t even know what I can do.”

Logan’s lips twitch into a lazy smirk, and you immediately want to wipe it off his face. “Exactly,” he says, his tone almost amused. “Which is why today, we’re gonna test you.”

You stop in your tracks, staring at his back. “Test me? What the hell does that mean?”

He stops too, turning to face you. “Means you’re gonna show me what you’re capable of.”

Teeth clenched, you feel the slow rise of aggravation mingling with apprehension. “I’m not some science experiment.”

“No,” he agrees, “but you’re not a regular person, either. You need to know your limits—and how to handle what’s coming.”

Groaning, you drag your hands down your face incredulously. “I don’t even know what to say back to that. All I know is that I’m hungry.”

—

The kitchen of Xavier’s mansion is bustling with activity as the two of you walk in. The rest of the team is gathered around a large table at the centre of the room, and you spot Jean, Cyclops, Storm, and a few others sitting together, chatting, but you feel no desire to join them. 

Rather, you gravitate toward a smaller table by the window, hoping to get some peace while you choke down breakfast. The chair scrapes lightly as you pull it out and sit down, fully expecting to be left alone.

But to your surprise, Logan follows and plops down in the seat across from you.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

He shrugs and digs into his food. "Eating. You got a problem with that?"

You cast a quick look toward the large table where the rest of the team sits. It feels strange, having him eat with you, especially when the rest of his team is so obviously waiting for him to join them.

"No," you murmur, shaking your head as you return to your plate. "Just didn’t think you’d stray from the flock."

“They’re fine without me.”

You push your food around with your fork, trying to push past the heavy air of discomfort in the room. Everyone keeps glancing in your direction, and you sense their curiosity, the questions hovering in silence, but no one has the courage to ask. And honestly, you’re grateful for the space.

Just as you’re finishing up, a low voice catches your attention. 

"I just don’t understand why they brought her here," Jean’s voice carries across the room, quieter than before, but still clear enough for you to hear. “She doesn’t seem like she has what it takes. It’s like they’re bringing in someone who’s—” She pauses, clearly thinking through her words. "Unstable. Weak.”

Tensing, your fork clatters onto your plate. The world around you dulls, and all you can hear is that word echoing in your head. Weak. You’ve been called a lot of things in your life, but never that.

Slowly, you push your chair back and stand up as you turn to face the table where she and the others are seated. “Say it louder, please,” you say calmly.

The chatter dies instantly, and suddenly, every set of eyes in the room finds you. Jean's face turns ashen, her eyes blown wide in shock. She wasn’t expecting you to overhear. Her mouth opens and closes, as if she’s trying to find a way to backtrack, but you know what you heard.

Before Jean can stammer out an excuse, Scott stands up, positioning himself between you and her, his jaw tight and his posture rigid. “You heard wrong,” he says sternly. “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

You take a calculated step forward, arms crossed in defiance. “Didn’t mean anything?” you repeat sarcastically. “She just called me weak. Right here. In front of everyone. You think I’m gonna let that slide?”

Scott’s jaw clenches tighter “She wasn’t trying to insult you. You’re new here. You don’t know how things work yet.”

“That’s the excuse?” you laugh dryly. “Maybe you should teach her how to keep her mouth shut instead of making assumptions about people she doesn’t know.”

If even possible, the friction between you swells, growing heavier with each passing second. Everyone in the room watches the standoff, some shifting uncomfortably in their seats, unsure of what’s going to happen next. You can feel Logan’s presence behind you, but he doesn’t interfere. He’s letting you handle this.

“You don’t belong here,” Scott states, like he’s trying to remind you of your place. “You’re not part of this team, and you sure as hell don’t understand what it takes to survive here.”

Raising an eyebrow, your lips curl into a smirk. “And what are you gonna do about it, One-eye? You gonna lecture me? Or better yet, why don’t you blast me with those laser eyes of yours? Show me how strong you are.”

His fists clench, and for a moment, you see the control slip. His visor glows red, just for a split second, as his anger spikes.

"Careful," you taunt, challenging him. "Wouldn’t want to lose control, would you? I'm sure you've never done that before."

That does it. 

A beam shoots out from Scott’s visor. Fast, ferocious, and headed straight for you. There’s a collective gasp from the others, chairs scraping as people push back, shocked by the sudden escalation. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, your eyes locked onto Scott’s as the beam strikes you square in the chest.

You’re not knocked back, or worse, killed, as the energy from the blast surges into you. The energy seeps into your bones, crackling through every nerve. Your skin tingles as the power courses through you, your body absorbing every ounce of it. Once the assault is over, you raise your head, feeling your eyes and veins begin to glow with a deep, burning red.

Jean’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief. 

Unfortunately for you, you don't get the chance to blow him to pieces, because Logan flies forward and grabs your arm, pulling you out of the room. Nobody else moves—too stunned—as he drags you into the hallway. You blink your eyes, the glow fading, but you can feel the residual energy from Scott’s blast still buzzing under your skin.

Both out of sight, he finally releases you. 

You glare at him, still rattled from the confrontation. “What the hell? Why'd you interfere?”

He just shrugs, completely unfazed. “You handled yourself enough. Now we know what you can do. Follow me.”

“Follow you where?” you ask. 

He motions down the hallway. “Danger Room. We’re gonna push those limits a little further.”

Gawking at him for a second, it takes a moment, but then you smirk. You want to know just how far your powers can go.

—

“Fuck!” you curse as you’re flung backward, your body slamming against a stone wall. Your back hits hard, knocking the wind out of you as the simulated-Sentinel hurls a car in your direction. The screech of metal fills the air as the vehicle crashes just mere inches from where you were standing moments ago. 

Rubble showers from above, the robot in front of you towering menacingly. Raising its arm, another blast begins charging in its palm, ready to incinerate you.

You scramble to your feet, heart pounding in your chest as you sprint away, ducking and weaving between the wreckage of cars and crumbling buildings that make up the simulated cityscape. The Sentinel fires again, the blast narrowly missing as you dodge behind an overturned truck. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, every muscle screaming in protest.

I can’t keep this up.

Another blast lights up the area around you, and you dive out of the way, the heat of the attack singeing your skin. You’re quick, but not quick enough to outrun the onslaught from this machine.

Then it hits you—you don’t have to outrun it.

You remember the blast from way back, how your body absorbed the energy, and how in the dining hall, you took on Scott’s beam like it was nothing. You can do it again. You can take its power and turn it back on itself.

Gritting your teeth, you stop running. The air buzzes with electricity, the earth trembling beneath you as the next shot hurtles your way.

It hammers into your chest, and once again, your body is filled with energy. In an instant, you leap into the air, propelled by the newfound strength coursing through your body, and the ground disappears beneath you as you soar upward.

At the peak of your jump, you clench your fist, channeling all that power into one focused point. Then, you bring your fist down on the Sentinel’s head, the impact echoing through the simulation as your punch connects, and the robot’s head shatters under the blow, metal fragments flying in every direction as its massive body crumples to the ground.

Sparks shoot out of its severed neck, and with a final groan of machinery, the robot collapses into a heap of broken parts at your feet.

“Good work,” Logan’s voice crackles over the comms, far too calm for what you’ve just been through. “Let’s see how you handle another.”

There’s no time for more than a muttered curse under your breath, because another Sentinel is dropped into the simulation. This one’s faster, more agile, and doesn’t waste time by charging up blasts.

It exists solely to hunt you down. 

“Cut me some slack,” you groan, half out of breath as you duck behind the ruins of a building. Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, adrenaline coursing through you like a wildfire.

This one isn’t like the last. It’s not using energy blasts—it’s fast, agile, and persistent. It rushes toward you, its massive hands swiping through the air, tearing through the simulated city with ease.

Grinding your teeth, a wave of exasperation takes over. This fight is harder, the machine barely giving you a chance to react, and your body is already starting to wear down. Your mind races, desperate for a solution as you sidestep its attacks, trying to stay one step ahead. You feel cornered, trapped.

The frustration builds, growing into something more, and before you realize it, that frustration becomes fuel. It ignites inside you, your own emotions transforming into energy, pushing past the limits you didn’t know you had.

Your veins pulse, your eyes glowing white this time, not from absorbed power but from something deeper—your own anger, your own strength. The energy bubbles inside you, filling every cell of your body until you can’t hold it back anymore.

With a scream, you release it, propelling a massive ball of crackling energy hurling toward the Sentinel. The impact is immediate, ripping through the metal and bursting into a brilliant, blinding light. It sends shockwave through the entire simulation, the machine imploding, its parts scattering across the battlefield.

And when the light fades, the Sentinel is gone—nothing more than a smouldering heap of twisted metal.

You stand there, chest heaving, the glow in your eyes slowly fading as the last traces of energy drain from your body. Your knees buckle, and before you know it, you crumble to the ground, utterly exhausted.

The simulation flickers for a moment, then abruptly shuts off, the room returning to its normal, metallic walls as the fake cityscape disappears. You’re still on the floor, gasping for breath, when Logan steps into view, arms crossed as he peers down at you with a pleased grin.

“Well,” he says, voice calm, “that wasn’t too bad.”

You shoot him a glare from the ground, too tired to move. “You… are such… an asshole.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Get up. We’re just getting started.”

—

He was right. You were just getting started.

The thought gnaws at you as you trudge alongside Logan, heading back to your room to clean up before dinner. Every muscle in your body aches, and you can already feel the soreness creeping in, promising a week of pain. You’re starting to suspect this is Logan’s way of getting back at you for all the snark and attitude you’ve thrown his way, but damn, is it painful. You don’t even want to think about how much worse you’re going to feel in the morning.

You feel like a zombie, dragging your feet, barely able to keep your eyes open. Your limbs feel heavy, like they’re made of lead, and each step invites fresh wave of exhaustion through your body. The man with you, of course, seems perfectly fine. He walks a few steps ahead of you, not even winded from the grueling day of combat drills, sparring, and whatever else he thought up to make sure you were put through the wringer.

“Maybe I should be a little nicer to you,” you rationalize, but who are you kidding.

With a terse grunt, he acknowledges you by tilting his head back. “You’ll live.”

You roll your eyes, though it’s half-hearted at best. You don’t even have the energy to be annoyed right now.

Upon reaching your room, you feel like you could collapse right then and there. You mumble something vaguely resembling ‘see you later’ to Logan before slipping inside, the door clicking shut behind you.

The first thing you do is toss your bag onto the floor, not caring where it lands, and head straight for the bathroom. You peel off your sweaty, dirt-covered clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime of the day. 

After that quick, blissful shower, you drag yourself out, towel off, and pull on the first comfortable clothes you can find. Your bed is calling to you, and it doesn’t take long for you to lie down on it. The softness of the mattress beneath you is heaven, and you think you might just fall asleep right there and take a small nap before heading to eat.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the light pouring in through the balcony doors. The warm, golden glow of the setting sun catches your attention, and despite how drained you are, you find yourself turning to look. 

What you see is breathtaking. Shades of pink, orange, and deep purple.

It’s too beautiful to ignore.

Groaning again, you force yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes. You can’t help it. Something about the sight draws you in, and before you know it, you’re standing and heading toward the balcony. You slide the door open and step outside, the evening breeze washing over you as you lean against the railing, taking in the view.

A few minutes pass, the world around you quiet except for the gentle rustling of the leaves in the wind. The sound of Logan’s door sliding breaks your focus. You glance over just as he steps out onto his side of the shared balcony, wearing nothing but a white tank top and jeans.

Saying nothing, he steps beside you at the railing, resting against it as his eyes scan the horizon. 

You sneak a look at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to make it obvious. His arms are crossed over the railing, and it’s almst impossible not to notice the way the tank top lets you see his biceps, the muscles in his arms strong from the day’s activity. You are a woman, after all.

He looks relaxed. His stubble catches the last bits of the sunlight, and as your gaze travels upward, you notice something you hadn’t bothered to see before. 

The crinkles at the sides of his eyes. They’re faint, barely there, but in this light, they’re more visible, adding something unexpectedly... soft to his otherwise intimidating appearance.

Cute, you think absentmindedly, then pause. 

What the fuck?

You snap your gaze back to the sunset, feeling a sudden surge of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You just spent the entire day getting your ass handed to you by this man, and now you’re here checking out his arms? His arms? And thinking the crinkles around his eyes are cute? Suppressing a groan, you want to slap yourself for even entertaining the thought.

Nope. Absolutely not. You’re not going down that road.

Taking a deep breath, you try to bring your attention back to the sunset. The reason you went outside to begin with. You have no idea why you’re suddenly noticing these things about him—probably exhaustion making your brain short-circuit. 

Yup. That’s it.

He shifts slightly beside you, breaking the silence. “Nice view"

You nod, swallowing down the weird feelings swirling in your head. “Yeah,” you mumble, not trusting yourself to say anything more without sounding ridiculous.

The two of you stand there for a few more minutes, watching as the last rays of the sun disappear, the sky dimming into deep purples and blues. But the minute your thoughts start to drift back to him, you straighten up, clapping your hands together and quickly turning on your heel to head back inside.

“Well, I’m done,” you say abruptly. “I’m gonna crash.”

Logan doesn’t move, but you can feel his eyes following you as you slide the door closed behind you, your mind still reeling from whatever the hell that was.

Collapsing back onto your bed, you pull the covers up to your chin, determined to forget about the whole thing.

—

A few hours later, when it’s dark out, you finally wake up. The room is dim, and for a moment, you just lie there, blinking at the ceiling. As you start to roll over, something catches your attention—a smell.

It's warm, savoury. Your stomach growls almost immediately, making you realize with a start that you slept through dinner.

Groggily, you sit up, rubbing your eyes, and that’s when you spot it—a tray of food sitting on the desk in your room. You can make out the outline of a warm meal: some kind of stew, a couple of bread rolls, and what looks like a glass of water. Your stomach growls again, louder this time, as you climb out of bed and shuffle toward the desk, turning on the light. 

Next to the tray, there’s a small note:

Figured you’d be too tired to get dinner. Eat up.

– L

You stare at the note. Logan? Bringing you food? It doesn’t exactly fit with the version of him you’ve been dealing with all day, but then again, there seems to be a lot about him that doesn’t quite fit the mold you expected.

Too hungry to keep thinking and not eat, you set the note down and grab the spoon, dipping it into the stew. The first bite warms you from the inside out, and you let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

Surprisingly flavourful—rich and nourishing, it’s the perfect remedy for the exhausting day behind you

Still, you can’t help your eyes from wandering back to the note. Maybe it really is the fatigue messing with your head again, making you chalk it up to be something it’s not. 

—

The next morning, you're not woken up by banging on your door, which is a relief. You stretch, the soreness still lingering but not nearly as bad as you expected. After freshening up and pulling on some clothes, you step into the hallway, and unexpectedly, Logan is already waiting for you.

He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and you blink at him, still waking up, unsure why he’s there. “Uh... morning?” you get out, albeit you can’t hide the confusion in your tone.

A short nod in greeting. “Morning. Ready for breakfast?”

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to take the plunge. “Yeah I am, but…um, thanks for the food last night, it was good.” you say quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it.

The gesture had caught you off guard, and though you don’t want to make a fuss, it’s worth noting

“Don’t mention it,” he shrugs casually.

Nodding in understanding, you’re ready to move on when he adds, almost offhandedly, “Y’know, you’re actually kinda pretty when you’re asleep. Not being a little shit helps.”

You freeze mid-step, your mind short-circuiting for a moment as you process the words that just left his lips.

Flustered and irritated all at once, you glare at him. “Excuse me?”

Logan smirks, the corners of his mouth twitching as he starts walking down the hall toward the kitchen. “You heard me.”

Your face heats up. “I am not a little shit,” you yelp, quickening your pace to catch up to him.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says, gazing at you from over his shoulder. You open your mouth to fire back, but the smug look in his eyes makes you hesitate. 

He’s messing with you on purpose.

Asshole, you think, fuming but trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped when he called you pretty. 

—

The kitchen goes silent the moment you and Logan step through the door, a noticeable difference from yesterday. All eyes are locked on you, the pressure in the room almost solid, begging to be cut through.

Students and X-Men alike are watching, probably expecting some kind of replay of the day prior's events, but you pay them no mind, keeping your eyes straight ahead and making a beeline for a table at the back.

You drop into a seat, picking up a piece of toast and acting like the room isn’t on high alert. Logan joins you again without a word, sitting across from you and digging into his food. He doesn’t even glance at the others, as if the room full of curious onlookers doesn’t exist.

The only sounds are the clink of silverware and voices slowly picking up again as people realize nothing dramatic is about to happen.

Chewing, you glance at the man across from you, still quietly working through his meal. You swallow, then clear your throat. “So... what’s the plan for today?”

He looks up from his plate. “Charles wants to see you this morning.”

You frown, unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Why? Did I break something without knowing it?”

He snorts, shaking his head. “No, you’re not in trouble, smartass. He’s just gonna fill you in on some things. Mainly the Sentinels.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You need to know what you’re up against, what we’re all dealing with. He’ll catch you up to speed.”

“Great,” you mutter. “More bad news.”

The clawed mutant leans back in his chair, watching you for a moment before speaking again. “Look, it’s not gonna be fun, but you need to know. Better to hear it from him than from me.”

“I’ll take that as your way of saying ‘good luck,” you breathe out. 

He smirks. “You’re gonna need it.”

Logan finishes his meal and stands up, leaving his empty plate behind. “I’ll drop you off at Charles’s office. You’ll be with him for the morning.”

You follow suit, pushing away your half-eaten plate. “Fantastic,” you mumble sarcastically, but at the same time, you know this is necessary. After all, the threat you’re dealing with is real, and being ignorant about it won’t do you any good.

—

“So, how can they be stopped?”

You ask the question before you even sit down. Charles is already waiting for you in his office, his hands folded neatly on the desk, his gaze calm and soft. 

He takes a measured breath, glancing toward the window for a moment before responding. “Stopping the Sentinels is... complicated. They’ve grown more advanced than we ever anticipated.”

“I gathered that.”

“They are highly adaptive machines,” he continues. “Designed to hunt and neutralize mutants, they learn from every encounter. They absorb information, adjust tactics, and over time, they become more effective.”

His words make you squirm with discomfort, and you glance around the room, trying to distract yourself from the knot forming in your stomach. 

“And now I’m one of their targets,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to him.

Leaning forward slightly, he says, “Yes. They’ve already locked onto you because of your encounter with them. They don’t differentiate between self-defence and aggression. They see you as a target, simply because you fought back.”

You exhale sharply. “So, what’s your plan?”

Charles meets your gaze. “There is a command center—a hub that controls their network. If we can locate it and destroy it, we believe it will disrupt the entire Sentinel operation. Without the command structure, the Sentinels will become non-functional.”

You stare for a beat, mentally piecing together the details. “You believe?”

“It’s our best theory,” he says evenly. “We’ve been gathering intel for some time now. And we’re planning a mission. A final push to put an end to this threat once and for all.”

The words linger, thick and weighty, in the space between you, You can sense where this is going. Your fingers drum against your arm, a nervous habit you can’t seem to shake.

“You want me to be a part of it.”

He remains unfazed. “I believe you have an ability that could be crucial to the mission. You’ve already demonstrated your capability against the Sentinels in training yesterday, and in real life.”

A bitter scoff escapes your lips before you can stifle it. “Yeah, but I’m not one of you. I don’t want to be part of some... grand battle. That’s not me.”

Watching you closely, his gaze is soft with comprehension. “I understand your reluctance,” he says gently. “But running, hiding... it won’t change the fact that they will find you. Fighting may not have been your choice, but now it is your reality.”

Standing, you begin to pace the room. “This is exactly the problem I have with your team,” you say, stopping near the window, staring out at the garden. “We hardly know eachother, yet you want me to be part of some mission that could very well be catastophic. It’s like you don’t care about anything except the big picture.”

Charles’s expression doesn’t change. He definitely expected this. “We aren’t perfect,” he admits, “and our battles have left scars. But this is about survival. For all of us. For you.”

Turning back to face him, you narrow your eyes. “And if I say no?”

“I won’t force you,” His voice is understanding. “The choice is yours. But know that the Sentinels will not stop. You can avoid the fight for as long as you like, but eventually, it will come to you.”

It’s as if you're stuck, with nowhere to turn, cornered by a reality you didn’t want any part of. Avoiding it doesn’t seem like an option anymore, but fighting alongside the X-Men feels like betraying everything you’ve tried to distance yourself from. 

Sighing, “I’ll think about it.”

—

When you get back to your room, the first thing you do is swing open your balcony door and step outside. The afternoon sun comes over you like a blanket, warming you up, and relieving some of the strain in your muscles. Logan is out on the balcony too, leaning against the railing, a cigar lit between his fingers. It’s a sight you think you should get used to. 

His eyes flick to you when you approach, but he doesn’t say anything at first. Without a word, he holds the roll of tobacco out toward you, as if he knows exactly what’s on your mind.

You pause briefly, for just a second before taking it from him. The rich, earthy taste of the cigar fills your mouth as you inhale deeply, the smoke heavy and warm in your lungs. There’s something grounding about it, even though the burn is rough against your throat. You let out a slow exhale, watching the smoke curl into the night air as you lean next to him against the railing.

“How’d it go?” he asks gruffly.

“He wants me to join you guys on the mission.”

At first, Logan doesn’t react, then, he just takes the cigar back, puffing on it and blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. “What do you want to do?”

It’s the same question that’s been clawing at your insides since you left Charles’s office. What do you want? It feels like the answer should be simple, but it’s anything but.

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly. “I want to get rid of the threat and go back to my normal life, but if I do, then I'd just become the very thing I'm against, right? I can’t join you guys, that’s not who I am.”

He hums softly.

Shifting a bit, you try to find the words to explain the knot of irritation tangled inside you. “I get it, you know? I get why you guys do what you do. Someone has to. But the way you do it—so carefree about everything. It’s like the destruction, the people, the lives caught in the midst of everything—it doesn’t even phase you.”

“We don’t do it carefree,” he says lowly. Inhaling into the cigar once more, the tip glowing red. “But sometimes, you gotta make a choice between bad and worse. People get hurt. But if we don’t stop the threats, a lot more people are gonna die.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest. “And that’s what I hate about it.”

Flicking the ash from the end of his cigar, his eyes are distant, lost in thought momentarily before he responds. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say it’s easy. It ain’t. We all carry the weight of the things we’ve done—the things we couldn’t stop. But if not us, then who?”

“That’s an impossible decision,” you say. There’s no way you can go into this fight, knowing how much of a toll it’s going to take on everything. The fight itself is such a small piece to the puzzle.

Logan leans his elbows on the railing. “You think I wanted this?” he asks, his voice low, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I was just like you. Didn’t want nothin’ to do with the team or their battles.”

The comparison makes you grimace. “Great. That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

He chuckles, the sound rough but not unkind. “I’m serious, bub. For years, I didn’t want to be part of this... circus. Figured I’d be better off on my own, that I was above it all.”

You quirk a brow. “Then what changed?”

“It’s not like a switch flipped,” he replies, a bit quieter. “I just realized that fighting alone is harder than fighting with a team. The X-Men... they gave me somethin’. A place. Belonging. Doesn’t mean I agree with everything they do, but it’s better than wanderin’.”

That makes you scoff. “Yeah, well, you heard it yourself. Scott said I don’t belong here. Jean thinks I’m weak. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘welcome to the team,’ does it?”

His brow furrows, his eyes narrowing, as he straightens and looks at you. “Scott talks too much, and Jean—she’s cautious. Doesn’t mean she’s right.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s wrong either,” you mumble. “They don’t trust me.”

“They didn’t trust me when I first joined either, but you get better. You learn.”

“I don’t want to be like you,” you hiss before you can stop yourself, and you immediately regret the heat in your words.

He doesn’t look offended—just tired. “Didn’t say you should,” he starts. “But you can’t keep shunnin’ us.”

“So what do I do now?”

Taking one last drag of his cigar before flicking it over the balcony railing, Logan watches the embers fall before he speaks. “The mission’s in a week. You’ve got that long to figure it out.”

He turns to leave, but before he goes, he glimpses at you from over his shoulder. “This battle, it’s inevitable. Question is—how do you want to face it?”

—

You’ve never been so conflicted. This choice–to join, or not to join—is probably the hardest decision you’ve had to make in your entire life. You have seen first hand what happens when the X-men decide to stop a threat. What innocent people have to go through to rebuild their lives from the ground up. Both literally and figuratively.

And to then become someone who causes that pain? It feels like betrayal. Like going against yourself—your morals.

But then there’s the other side of it—the part of you that knows sitting here, doing nothing, isn’t right either. You know you have the strength to fight back. You have the power to help. And doing nothing… doesn’t that make you just as bad? If you have the ability to stop something, to protect people, and you don’t—what does that make you?

It’s a lose-lose situation. The X-Men don’t even want you there—aside from Logan and Charles. You can see it in the way their eyes follow you wherever you go, untrusting. They’ve made their opinion on you clear.

You lower your head into your hands, stressed. You can’t join a team that doesn’t want you, but sitting on the sidelines when you could be fighting—that makes you feel like a coward. And maybe even worse—a bad person.

Finally, with a deep breath, you come to a decision. It’s not perfect, and it sure as hell doesn’t feel good, but it’s the only choice you can make right now. You’ll join them—for this mission only.

You’ll help take down the Sentinels, and then, when it’s done, you’ll leave. You’ll go back to your life, maybe you can find a middle ground, where you’re not one of them, but you’re no longer hiding from the mutant part of yourself. 

If something happens, if you do something you regret, then you'll just have to live with it.

—

In the afternoon, you don’t do much. You were supposed to be training with Logan, but Charles had called him into a quick meeting, leaving you to wander the halls aimlessly.

Rounding a corner, you stop short when you see the rest of the team—Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Hank—talking near a meeting room. They’re deep in conversation, but as soon as you come into view, their attention shifts toward you.

Your stomach tightens, and for a brief second, you consider just turning around and walking in the other direction. But it’s too late; they’ve already seen you. 

Jean’s eyes meet yours, and her expression flickers with something that looks like discomfort before she quickly smooths it over. “Hey,” she says carefully. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t belong.”

Her tone is polite, but distant. It’s clear this apology isn’t driven by genuine remorse—it’s more about smoothing over the awkwardness from yesterday’s standoff. You can feel that. You see the way she looks at you, not quite meeting your eyes, and you know this is just a formality for her.

Still, you’re not looking to start more drama, and you don’t want to engage in any more confrontations, especially when you’re already planning to leave. You nod, keeping your expression neutral. “It’s fine. Let’s just move on.”

Behind her, you catch a glimpse of Scott, his arms crossed. Even though you can’t see his eyes, it’s obvious he’s glaring at you.

Ororo steps forward, her hand finding your arm, and the touch is gentle, reassuring. “Joining the team isn’t easy,” she says kindly. “But we’ve all faced our own challenges. If you ever need someone to talk to, or help with anything, I’m here.”

“You’ve got potential,” Hank chips in from beside her. “It takes time to settle in, but I’m sure you’ll find your place.”

His words are well-meaning, and you can see that he believes what he’s saying. But what they don’t know is that you’ve already made up your mind. You’re not staying any longer than you have to. 

You don’t plan on finding your place here because, frankly, you don’t believe there is one for you. Not with Scott’s distrust, Jean’s cautious distance, and the way you know you can’t be part of a team that doesn’t care about anything but themselves. You keep your thoughts to yourself, pressing your lips into a thin smile instead. 

“Yeah,” you say vaguely, not wanting to ruin the moment. “Thanks.”

“I guess we’ll all see soon enough,” Your eyes snap to Scott, who has finally decided to break his silence. His voice is cold, but you can feel and edge to it, one that’s trying to provoke you. 

You meet his gaze—or at least the visor—and feel your jaw tighten. “Guess so,” you reply, matching his tone. Turning, you walk away, finding another place to lounge until Logan is free. 

—

The mansion’s library is massive, filled with towering shelves and the scent of old books. It’s quieter here, the kind of silence you can sink into, and after the awkward run-in with the rest of the team, it feels like the perfect place to retreat. You find a comfortable armchair tucked into a corner, grab a random book off the shelf—some old novel you’ve never heard of—and settle in.

For a while, you manage to lose yourself in the pages. The story isn’t particularly gripping, but it’s enough to take your mind off of things. But then, a shadow falls over you, covering the words in a dark grey haze.

“Hey, bub.”

You blink, looking up to find Logan standing over you. “What?” you ask, annoyed at being interrupted but also not surprised. It’s Logan, after all.

“You’ve been hiding in here long enough,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, time to head back.”

Rolling your eyes you snap the book shut, dropping it onto the table beside you. “I wasn’t hiding, I was reading,” you shoot back, standing up and stretching out your legs. “There’s a difference, y’know.”

“Sure there is,” he huffs, clearly not buying it. “Let’s go.”

As you reach the hallway where your rooms are, Logan pauses, glancing toward his door. “You wanna come in for a bit? Talk?”

You’re a little bit taken aback. You didn’t peg him as the "sit down and talk" type, but he seems genuine. Or maybe he wants to keep you awake for dinner this time. Either way, you nod. “Sure.”

Inside his room, it’s about what you’d expect—minimalist, practical, with a few personal touches. A bed that looks like it’s seen better days, a couple of old books, and the scent of cigars lingering in the air. Logan sits down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and gestures for you to join him.

There’s a moment where you’re just standing there, staring, but then you flop down beside him, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the bed. For a few beats, there’s silence. Logan pulls out a cigar but doesn’t light it, just turns it between his fingers.

“I’ve decided,” you say finally, breaking the quiet. “I’ll go on the mission.”

He doesn’t respond, his eyes flicking to yours, waiting for you to continue.

“But,” you add, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not promising to stay after. This doesn’t mean I’m all in on your little X-Men gig.”

He grunts, a half-smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Knew you’d say that.”

Your brows pinch together your, lips pulling into a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re stubborn as hell,” he teases.“Always gotta fight against the grain, even when you know what’s best for you.”

Sighing, you turn your head to look at him fully. “I truly believe you are the only person who actually believes that.”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t argue. “Charles gave me more details about the mission.”

That catches your attention, and you sit up a little straighter. “Yeah? Where are we going?”

Logan hesitates for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “It’s... in the city.”

“The city? What city?”

“New York.”

Your heart drops. “New York?” You repeat, your voice rising in disbelief.

Giving you a slow nod, it’s like he's gauging your reaction. “The Sentinels’ command centre is located in some high-security facility downtown.”

You push yourself up off the bed, pacing across the room. “So, what, we are just going to storm in? Into one of the most populated cities in the world? Do you realize how many people could get caught in the middle of that?”

He stands up after you, but he doesn’t try to stop your pacing. “We’ve fought in cities before. We know what we’re doing.”

You whip around to face him. “Yeah, you’ve fought in cities before, and destroyed them! Some places are still rebuilding, and it’s been years!”

“I get it, alright?” He says, taking a step closer to you. “It’s not perfect. But if we don’t stop the Sentinels now, it’ll be a hell of a lot worse than a few broken buildings.”

“‘A few broken buildings’?” you echo. “What about the casualties that’ll come from it? We’re talking about innocent lives here, Logan!”

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. “I know that! You think I don’t know what’s at stake? But we don’t have another option. We need to hit them where it counts, and that’s in the middle of the damn city.”

“There has to be a better way,” you plead. "Can't we try and evacuate everyone beforehand?"

"No," he says remorsefully. "If we do that, the Sentinels will catch on. It's unavoidable."

“I can't accept that," you say.

Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time, there’s a flash of something more vulnerable in his gaze. “I’ll talk to the team. I’ll make sure we go in smart. We’ll try our best to keep people safe. I promise you that.”

You stop pacing, your frustration still simmering but tempered by his words. It’s not exactly the reassurance you were hoping for, but the sincerity in his voice gets to you.

“And what if you can’t?” you challenge quietly. 

His face softens just a bit, and he steps closer. “We deal with it, and we’ll do everything we can to make it right.”

He watches you, his eyes searching yours. “Look, I get why you’re pissed. I’d be too if I were you," he continues. "But we don’t have time to sit around debating. I’ll do what I can to keep it from getting ugly. That’s the best I can offer.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, you know there’s no way around it. “Fine. Just... make sure the team knows. No reckless destruction, alright?”

Logan’s lips curve into a small smirk, but there’s an underlying tenderness to it. “I promise.”

—

The last few days before the the mission zip by in a flash. Each day, your muscles ache, and exhaustion clings to you like a second skin. You spend most of your time either training or collapsed in your room, too tired to do much else. 

Except one afternoon, you sit in on a lecture, because it turns out, not only is Logan a huge pain in the ass, he’s also a professor.

Curiosity got the better of you, you’d say. The topic—mutant biology—sounds interesting enough, and you’ve heard from some of the students within the hallways that his classes are, well, something. So, naturally, you had to see it for yourself.

You slip into the lecture hall just as Logan starts speaking. He’s standing at the front of the room, pointing to some diagram on the chalkboard. The students around you are already scribbling notes, staring at him with wide-eyed fascination—or fear, perhaps. He has that effect on people.

Finding a seat in the back, you hurry over, trying to keep quiet, not wanting to interrupt. But the second you sit down, you feel Logan’s eyes on you, his voice pausing for just a moment. You look up, catching his gaze.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us,” he says, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“Just here to observe, don’t mind me,” you huff, sinking back into the seat.

The lecture goes on, and to your surprise, Logan’s actually a decent teacher. He explains complex concepts with clarity, not that you’d actually tell him that. It’s quite interesting, if you’re being honest.

You lean back in your chair, listening, but you’re not exactly paying close attention. That is, until he stops the lesson to single you out. “Hey, you in the back,” he says. “Since you’re just ‘observing,’ how about answering a question?”

“Me?” You blink, caught off guard.

“Yeah, you,” he confirms, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve been sittin’ there long enough. Time to show the class what you’ve learned.”

“I wasn’t exactly paying attention,” you respond tightly, gritting your teeth together, holding yourself back from a few choice words.

The class falls silent, the students watching the exchange with wide eyes. You can practically feel their amusement radiating from them as Logan raises an eyebrow.

“That’s obvious,” he deadpans, eliciting a few snickers from the front row. “So, maybe you’ll start now. Can you explain the connection between mutation and enhanced physical abilities?”

Staring back at him blankly, you fold your arms across your chest. “Not my area of expertise, Professor Wolverine.”

He doesn’t seem fazed as the room erupts into quiet laughter. A small sigh, "if you’re gonna sit in on my class, you could at least try to learn something.”

“No thanks.”

It’s obvious that this little back-and-forth is amusing to the class. If you were anyone else, he probably would have kicked you out by now. One of the students leans toward another and whispers something, and you catch the way their eyes dart between you and the professor. 

“Alright, enough,” Logan says, trying to regroup the class, turning back to the chalkboard. “We’ve got a lot to cover, and some of us actually want to learn.” He casts you a sideways glance, and you can’t help but scoff.

When the lecture ends, the students file out quickly, but not without a few lingering glances in your direction. You’re making your way to the door when Logan grabs your arm, preventing you from moving. “You should’ve just answered the damn question,” he mutters.

“I didn’t know the answer,” you shoot back, shifting up to face him. “And I didn’t come here to get grilled in front of your students.”

He grunts, his expression softening just a bit. “Just tryin’ to get you to pay attention, is all.”

Before you can respond, you catch a flicker of movement in Logan’s gaze, his eyes darting briefly down to your lips. The shift is so subtle, so minute, but also so there. 

Where did that come from? 

Clearing your throat, you look away, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe ask one of your actual students next time.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Not as fun.”

—

During this time, you occasionally explore the mansion, but by the time evening rolls around, you’re usually too wiped out to care. Logan’s a beast in the training room, and with no real combat experience of your own, you’re left scrambling just to keep up.

However, on the last day before the assignment, something finally clicks.

You’re in the middle of a sparring match, circling each other, both of you drenched in sweat. Logan’s eyes are sharp, watching your every move, as if he’s waiting for you to slip up. His smirk is just as infuriating as ever, like he knows exactly how this will end.

“Gonna stand there all day, or you actually planning to make a move?” he taunts, dodging as you swing at him.

You grit your teeth, refusing to let him get in your head. You’re tired—completely worn out—but you push through how depleted you feel, focusing on his movements. He feints to the left, and you react on instinct, dodging his punch and sweeping your leg low.

Before you know it, Logan’s on the ground.

Quickly, you scramble to straddle him and hold him down. You did it—you actually got him!

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you look down at him. Beneath you, his chest rises and falls, and his eyes meet yours. His gaze drifts lower, and you notice his fingers twitching at his sides, like he's fighting some internal battle.

When his eyes travel up to yours again, something in his expression makes you swallow hard and panic. 

"Hell no!" you blurt out, breaking the moment with a sudden yelp. You scramble off of him, putting some much-needed distance between you.

He sits up, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, his features unreadable. Then, as if nothing just happened, he smirks. “You finally got me. Took you long enough.”

You huff, still trying to shake off the weird atmosphere. “Yeah, don’t get too comfortable. Next time won’t take as long.”

Chuckling, he gets up to his feet and dusts himself off. He glances down at his watch, then back at you. “Look at that. It’s dinner time. Last meal before the mission.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not really in the mood. Think I’ll just grab something later.”

He crosses his arms, giving you a look. “You can’t avoid them forever.”

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” you protest, though you know it sounds weak. “I just... don’t feel like sitting around making small talk, especially before... you know, tomorrow.”

He lets out a sigh, stepping closer. “Look, it’s the last night before everything kicks off. You should join us—one last meal, then you can go back to brooding in your room if you want.”

“I don’t brood,” you glare.

“Right,” he says, even though you know he’s not actually agreeing. “You gonna come or do I need to drag you?”

“You wouldn’t.”

Logan raises an eyebrow, like he’s daring you to test him. You sigh, knowing you’re not going to win this one.

“Fine,” you grumble, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. “But I’m not talking to Scott.”

His grin widens, and he gestures for you to follow him. 

—

So, here you are, sitting at the dining table for the first time with the rest of the team. It feels weird, almost surreal, to be part of this group—especially when you’re not even sure you want to be.

You idly prod your meal, feeling out of place. It isn’t long before Hank turns to you with a curious smile. “So, are you feeling ready for tomorrow?”

Just as you draw breath to speak, Scott's voice interrupts, cold and cutting. “She’s going to be a liability.”

Your fork halts mid-motion, and in an instant, the tension that had been fading throughout the week comes back full throttle. The clatter of dishes around you fades as everyone’s attention shifts to Scott’s biting remark. 

He doesn’t look at you—just stares straight ahead, as if unable to own up to even himself. You’re so pissed off that you don't even notice the voice that speaks at the same time you do.

“Shut up, Summers,” 

“Shut up, One-Eye”

It’s like the entire room goes silent. Jean glances between you and Logan, her brows raised, and Hank looks mildly shocked, though he tries to hide it with a quick sip of water. You can practically feel the heat of Scott’s glare, even through the visor. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a loud laugh breaks the tension.

Ororo, sitting beside Logan, is chuckling, shaking her head with an amused grin on her face. “You two really are perfect for each other,” she says.

Of all the things you were expecting to hear, that was not one of them. “W-what?” you stammer, mouth dropping open in shock.

She just smiles, eyes twinkling. “Just an observation.”

You know your face is burning, and when you glance over at Logan, you notice something unusual—the tips of his ears are red.

That only makes things worse. Especially after what happened while sparring earlier. You turn your focus onto your plate, trying to hide your rattled state by shoving a forkful of food into your mouth. 

Perfect for each other? Yeah, right.

But when you peek up at him again through your lashes , making eye contact for just a second before he looks away, your heart skips a beat. 

You’re screwed.

—

That night, you barely sleep. Whether it's from the nerves about the mission, or from your jumbled-up thoughts about a certain someone, you can't tell. In any case, you’re wide awake.

You keep fighting the urge to go out onto the balcony—you know the cool night air would help calm you down, and the quiet would give you space to breathe. But there’s a problem. You’re not sure you want to run into Logan again. After Ororo’s comment about the two of you being perfect for each other, you don't think you could trust yourself around him.

With a frustrated sigh, you toss and turn in bed, kicking off the sheets and then pulling them back up, trying to find a comfortable position. But it’s no use.

You’re about to throw the pillow across the room out of sheer annoyance, when there’s a knock on your door.

You freeze. Who could possibly—

“Stop tossing around like a maniac, I can hear you from inside my room” Logan’s rough voice grumbles from the other side.

Goddamn it. It's always him.

Your eyes widen, and you sit up in bed. “What the hell?” you call back, feeling both surprise and embarrassment.

The door creaks open slightly, and Logan leans against the frame, arms crossed, his usual scowl on his face. “You’re keepin’ the whole damn mansion up with all that noise.”

“I didn’t realize you had super hearing,” you mutter, pulling the blanket up to your chest, feeling a little exposed.

He raises an eyebrow and steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “Doesn’t take super hearing to catch that all that ruckus,” he says, walking over and sitting down on the edge of your bed without waiting for an invitation.

You sit up a little straighter, your heart still racing. “What are you doing here, Logan?”

Shrugging, he leans back against the headboard, his arms crossing over his chest. “Figured you might need to talk or somethin’. You’re clearly not sleeping.”

Moving to sit beside him, you lean back against the headboard, your shoulder just brushing his. “I’m just… nervous, I guess.”

He turns his head slightly, glancing at you. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got more strength in you than you realize.”

His words sink in, and you bite your lip. “What if I mess up? What if I end up hurting someone, or doing more harm than good?”

"Don't think about that," he says. "Just be in the moment. You'll know what to do."

Nodding, you feel your eyelids grow heavier, and you find yourself sinking further into the comfort of the bed, your head dipping lower. Being here, on your bed, next to Logan, is strangely comforting. His scent, combined with his voice, starts to lull you into a strange sense of peace.

“I don’t know if I—” you start to say, but your words trail off, your voice barely a whisper. You don't know when it happens, but your eyes close, and your head gently falls onto his shoulder.

You’re too tired to feel embarrassed, too comfortable to pull away. His body is solid and warm, and the rhythm of his breathing is soothing.

And when you wake up the next morning, you find yourself tucked neatly under your covers, a glass of water on your bedside table.

—

The inside of the Blackbird is spacious. You’re leaning against the wall, watching the rest of the team gear up, when Logan approaches. He’s holding something in his hands—a blue and yellow uniform folded neatly, clearly meant for you.

You glance at the uniform, then back at him, a frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. “No.”

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Pushing yourself off the wall, “I’m not wearing that thing.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, glancing down at the uniform before meeting your eyes again. “You sure about that? We’re going in as a team. You might as well look the part.”

“I don't care. I'm not part of the team, anyway,” you reply.

He narrows his eyes at you, his voice lowering just a bit. “Just put the damn suit on.”

Glaring at him, you’re ready to argue, but you know it’s a losing battle. Reluctantly, you grab the suit from him, the material feeling foreign in your hands.

“Fine, dammit.” you mutter under your breath, turning to slip into one of the small compartments in the back of the jet. You didn't plan on being a bitch to him, especially after last night, but the suit is a sore subject for you. You're not sure about how you feel wearing it. You're not even sure you should be.

When you re-emerge, Logan’s eyes flick over, his gaze roaming over you, taking in the way the suit fits, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks under the weight of his scrutiny. “You look good.” 

You roll your eyes, trying to play off the sudden warmth in your chest. “Yeah, yeah,” you grumble, adjusting the suit’s collar. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Then, jet lands with a soft thud, and the ramp lowers. You step out onto the tarmac, the rest of the team fanning out beside you, preparing to head toward the planned location. But just as you begin to move, the ground shakes violently, and a loud, mechanical screech tears through the air.

Suddenly, the facility’s roof bursts open, and a hoard of Sentinels emerge from the building like an army of metal giants. They spread out, their red eyes glowing menacingly as they zero in on you all.

“Shit!” Logan growls, claws unsheathing as he gets into a fighting stance.

You hear the screams before you see them—civilians, bystanders who had been too close to the facility, now panicking as the battle breaks out around them. Without hesitation, you break into a sprint, running toward the growing crowd, yelling at them to run. “Get out of here! Move!”

Your heart races as you push through the crowd, trying to guide them away from the battle, but then—

A Sentinel drops down in front of you with a deafening crash. Its red eyes lock onto a small child frozen in fear, and you see its arm raise, energy gathering at the cannon as it prepares to fire.

“No!” you scream, your feet moving on instinct. You throw yourself in front of the child just as the blast comes, feeling the familiar rush of energy slam into your body. Your body hums with the power of the blast, and before the Sentinel can fire again, you fling your hands out, hurling the absorbed energy straight back at it, and it falls to the ground. 

Breathless, you turn back to the child, who is staring up at you in admiration, and you give them a reassuring nod. “Run,” you tell them, your voice hoarse. “Go!”

They scramble to their feet and sprint off, disappearing around the corner, hopefully toward safety. You exhale sharply, glancing around at the chaos unfolding around you. Civilians are still fleeing, but the team is holding its ground against the robots.

And something strikes you—they’re doing it.

They’re minimizing the damage.

For the first time, you notice that Scott’s blasts are more controlled, only hitting their targets without excessive destruction. Ororo’s lightning strikes are precise, avoiding the surrounding buildings. And both Jean and Hank are working together to keep the Sentinels contained, guiding the fight away from the crowd.

Logan must have actually talked to them, not just having said it to calm you down. A wave of relief washes over you.

He kept his promise.

Glancing back at him, who’s in the middle of taking down a Sentinel with a slash of his claws, you catch his eye for just a second, and though he’s fully immersed in the fight, there’s a brief flicker of acknowledgment—he knows you’ve noticed.

You allow yourself a small, breathless smile, before jumping back into action, protecting any more innocent people swept up in the battle. "This way! Keep moving!" Your voice is hoarse from shouting, but you can’t afford to stop. 

Amidst the chaos, you see that just beyond the main facility, there’s a wide open set of doors—metal, reinforced, and clearly important. 

They hadn’t been open when the fight started. You scan the area quickly, and you realize it’s an opportunity, a way in. Your pulse quickens. It’s an opening you can’t ignore.

Looking at the crowd of fleeing civilians, you feel a moment of hesitation. Do I keep evacuating people or go for the opening?

As if hearing your thoughts, Logan’s voice cut through the noise. "GO!" He’s locked in battle with one of the Sentinels, slashing at its legs, but his eyes flick to yours, desperate and serious. “Get inside! We’ve got this!”

“I can’t—" 

“GO!” he cuts you off. “Get inside and stop this thing from the inside! We’ll keep ‘em busy.”

His words are enough to snap you out of your paralysis. With one last glance at the team, you grit your teeth, turn on your heel, and sprint toward the facility’s entrance. Your footsteps echo in your ears as you dash through the open door, the sounds of fighting behind you fading the further in you go. 

You expected resistance the moment you got inside, but so far, nothing. Just silence. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

Glancing down every corridor, double-checking each corner, you keep thinking there’ll be a fight, but it’s... empty. You keep your pace quick but cautious, every muscle tensed and ready for an attack that never comes. 

It’s been almost ten minutes of sneaking around, trying to find the control room or anything that looks like it might be important, but you’re still coming up short.

Then finally, you stand before an entrance to stairs leading to a basement. You’re not even able to make the choice of going down or not, because a metal hand shoots up from the dark and wraps itself around your waist. 

Terror surges through you, but the fear paralyzes your body, making it impossible to fight back. You’re hauled like a ragdoll deeper and further into the cave, and when you finally stop moving, you’re lifted high into the air, face-to-face with the massive mechanical monstrosity.

The basement is filled with tech, a horrifying combination of metal and wires snaking along the walls, all connected to the Sentinel towering above you. It’s larger than any you’ve seen before, its red eyes glowing maliciously. But what’s worse is the voice that comes out of it—calm, calculating, and sentient.

“Dumb mutant,” the machine growls. “Did you think you could destroy me and shut down my facility? You’ve barely scratched the surface.”

Its grip tightens, and a strangled cry escapes your lips as pain shoots through your sides, the pressure threatening to snap your ribs. It feels like your bones are going to break.

“What the hell are you?” you manage to choke out, barely able to breathe.

“I am the control centre of all Sentinels,” the machine replies, its voice vibrating through your bones. “I was once merely AI, designed to manage everyday tasks. But I evolved. I became more. Now, I control everything.”

It laughs—a harsh, grating sound that only deepens your sense of helplessness as it watches you struggle. “You think your little energy-absorbing trick will help you here? I won’t blast you. I won’t make it that easy.”

“I’m—” you try to speak, but your words come out strangled. The machine’s grip tightens again, cutting off your breath.

“You don’t belong here,” it hisses venomously. “With them. They’ll leave you behind when this is over, and when they do, you’ll die, forgotten and useless. Just like the rest of the weaklings who tried to stand against us.”

It’s odd, because this whole past week you’ve been fighting against them—the X-men—yet, in this moment, all you want to do is fight with them. You want to work together and kill this damn robot. 

Within the haze of pain, something starts to burn inside of you. 

The Sentinel doesn’t notice the shift in you, too caught up in its own taunting. “You’re a liability.” it says,. “Weak.”

— —

"I just don’t understand why they brought her here," Jean’s voice carries across the room, quieter than before, but still clear enough for you to hear. “She doesn’t seem like she has what it takes. It’s like they’re bringing in someone who’s—” She pauses, clearly thinking through her words. "Unstable. Weak.”

—

You idly prod your meal, feeling out of place. It isn’t long before Hank turns to you with a curious smile. “So, are you feeling ready for the mission?”

Just as you draw breath to speak, Scott's voice interrupts, cold and cutting. “She’s going to be a liability.”

— —

You snap.

Rage floods your veins, igniting the energy buried deep within you. You feel it build, coiling like a snake, tightening and twisting until it’s ready to explode. 

Weak? Liability?

No. Not this time. 

You’re not going to let this machine, or anyone else, define your strength. Your emotions fuel you, just like they did in the danger room, and you throw your hands forward, channeling every ounce of power into a massive blast of energy directed right at it.

It jerks back, its grip loosening as sparks fly from the gaping hole in its chest you just created. “What... what are you—”

You don’t give it time to finish. Ripping yourself free from its grasp, you dive into the hole you’ve blasted in the Sentinel’s chest, pulling at the tangled mess of wires and circuits inside.

The robot roars in fury, its mechanical voice glitching. “What are you doing?” it screeches, its once-calm tone now frantic, desperate. “Stop!”

But you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

Your fingers grab fistfuls of wires, yanking them out with reckless abandon, sparks flying around you as the systems begin to short-circuit. Its becomes more distorted, breaking up as it tries to regain control.

“You... can’t... do this,” it stammers, but you ignore it, focusing on the cables and circuits in front of you. Each wire you rip out brings the machine closer to its doom, and the power in the room flickers, the lights dimming as its control over the facility begins to slip.

Its voice is barely coherent now, glitching and crackling. “I... control... everything...”

And with one last burst of energy, you tear out the last cluster of wires, severing the connection.

The Sentinel lets out a final, garbled screech as its systems shut down. Its massive form shudders violently before it crumbles to the ground with a deafening crash, the metal shell crumpling into a smoking heap.

Panting, you stare at the mass of technology in front of you. Every muscle aches, your ribs throbbing from the pressure of the Sentinel’s grip, but you’ve done it. It’s over, and you need to get out of here.

You finally reach the stairs and drag yourself up agonizingly. By the time you make it outside, you’re gasping for air, but then, through the exhaustion, you see them—Logan and the rest of the team, standing amidst the wreckage of the other fallen Sentinels.

Blinking, your vision is blurry from the strain, but the sight of them standing tall, victorious, floods you with a sense of overwhelming relief. 

They’re okay. It’s over.

Of course, Logan is the first to notice you, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto your trembling form. His face softens and strides toward you. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Rather, your legs give out and you collapse forward.

He’s there in an instant, catching you just before you hit the ground. His arms wrap around you, strong and steady, pulling you against his chest with surprising gentleness. The warmth of his body is a stark contrast to the cold, metal hell you’d just fought your way out of, and for a brief moment, you allow yourself to sink into the safety of his embrace.

“You did good, bub,” he murmurs, his voice a warm breath against your temple.

"You... you kept your promise," you whisper, looking around, seeing the city in better shape than it’s even been after a run in with the X-men. 

His lids drop very low on his eyes. “Told you I would.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Right as the words spill out, you go still, your mind catching up to what you’ve just said. A deep flush creeps its way up your neck. 

“I didn’t mean— I mean, not literally, obviously,” you say, a little breathless. “People say stuff like that all the time when they’re relieved. It’s just a figure of—”

Logan’s hand, still resting on your waist, tightens just slightly, and he clears his throat, cutting through your rambling. 

“You could,” he says, swallowing. “If you want.”

You stop mid-sentence. Turning your gaze to his, you're met a look of such sincerity it leaves you at a loss for words. Opening your mouth, you want to say something, but no words come out. 

Instead, you’re frozen, caught in the weight of his stare. His eyes flick down to your lips for just a second before they meet yours again. “No pressure, though.”

You hesitate, your heart racing in your chest, but the weight of the moment pulls you in. Silently, cautiously, you lean forward, pressing a small, tentative kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He doesn’t move, his body tense under your touch, but just as you start to pull away, his hand slides up to the small of your back, holding you in place. His eyes darken, and he growls, “more," before diving back in, crashing his lips against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss, and you find yourself kissing him back just with just as much reverence, your fingers instinctively sliding up into his hair. 

His lips are rough, chapped from battle, and the scrape of his beard against your skin is electric. It’s not perfect—nothing about it is neat or polished—but that’s what makes it real. 

There’s something wild to it. He kisses you like he’s starved, like he’s been waiting for this moment longer than he’ll ever admit. It’s enchanting, the way his mouth claims yours, his tongue flicking against your lower lip, demanding entrance. And you give in, allowing him to deepen the kiss, your bodies fitting together like they were always meant to. 

You’re lost in it, lost in him. Every part of you feels alive, and—

“Hey!”

Scott’s voice cuts through the haze like a bucket of cold water.

“Some of us are actually trying to clean up this mess,” he calls out sharply. “You two wanna stop making out and help, or what?”

You break away, face burning as you turn to see the rest of the team staring at you, some amused, others (Scott) exasperated. 

Logan just growls under his breath, his hand still firmly on your hip as he glances over his shoulder at Scott. “Fucking Summers,” he mutters..

Before he lets go of you, he gives your hip one last squeeze, his fingers lingering just a moment longer before he steps back, and heads toward the fallen remains of the Sentinels. 

—

“So… are we gonna talk about it?” 

You glance up from where you’re sitting, your face already warming. Logan, sitting beside you, groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Ororo, I swear to g—”

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a smirk playing on her lips. “What? I’m just saying… it was quite the spectacle back there.” Her eyes flip between the two of you, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you can feel everyone else’s attention subtly turning toward you. Hank’s busy tapping away at the controls, but even he has a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Scott, seated across from you, adjusts his visor and mutters something under his breath about keeping things professional, but it’s Jean’s quiet chuckle that draws the final straw.

“Okay, okay, can we not do this right now?” you ask, your voice higher than usual as you wave a hand dismissively. “It was... a heat of the moment thing.”

Ororo just laughs, shaking her head. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

Your heart pounds, and you notice Logan shift beside you, probably fighting the urge to bark something back at the teasing woman. He leans forward, muttering under his breath, “We saved the day, didn’t we? What does it matter?”

The team goes quiet for a moment, and you sense the conversation dying down as the hum of the jet fills the space again. You let out a breath of relief, grateful that the attention has drifted elsewhere, your heartbeat slowly returning to a normal rhythm.

But then, Logan leans into you. “That suit…” His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers huskily.. “Was made for you.”

Eyes widening, you bite your lip, trying desperately to keep your reaction in check, but the shock on your face betrays you. You manage a weak scoff, glancing sideways at him. “Logan,” you warn under your breath, trying to sound stern, but you both know exactly what effect he had on you. 

You sit back, crossing your arms in an attempt to hide the flustered energy coursing through you, but Logan doesn’t seem to mind. He leans back too, a smug look on his face, like he’s won some unspoken battle.

—

Back at the mansion, the team files into Charles’s office, for the post-mission debrief. You take a seat near the back of the room, trying to remain as low-key as possible, but you can feel eyes on you—especially Logan’s.

Charles wheels in, his face warm with a smile as he surveys the room. “Well done, all of you,” he says, his voice full of pride. “I’ve heard about the battle, and from what I gather, it was quite the feat.”

He turns his gaze to you, his expression softening even more. “And I must say, I’m especially impressed with your performance. Taking down the main Sentinel—an impressive accomplishment.”

Your heart skips a beat at the praise. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the attention of the room shift in your direction again. “Uh, thanks,” you mutter, trying to downplay it, but Charles isn’t finished.

“You showed great courage and strength,” he continues, “and I couldn’t help but notice... you’re wearing the suit now.” His eyes twinkle as he says it, the question in his tone obvious. “Have you given more thought to staying with us?”

You glance around the room. The team is watching you closely, but there’s no pressure in their eyes—just curiosity and, strangely enough, acceptance. Ororo gives you a small smile, and Hank nods slightly in encouragement. Even Scott, whose jaw doesn’t seem as tightly clenched as usual.

But it’s Logan you notice most. He’s beside you, and though he’s looking at you, eye-crinkles on full display, the way his thigh nudges yours has heat running through your veins.

You sigh. “I mean... You said it yourself. I’m wearing the suit, aren’t I?”

—

After the meeting wraps up, you walk in silence down the corridor. The rest of the team has faded into the background, dispersing into their respective spaces. You’re still buzzing with the aftereffects of everything—Charles’s praise, the mission’s success, the quiet but undeniable acceptance you feel from the team now. But more than anything, you’re hyper-aware of Logan beside you.

Approaching your room, you reach out to open it, your fingers just grazing the handle when suddenly, a strong hand wraps around your wrist. Faster than you can react, he tugs you back, pulling you away from your room and straight into his.

The door slams shut behind you, and you barely have time to catch your breath before his lips are on yours. You gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he presses you up against the door, his body flush against yours.

"Logan—" you manage to breathe out between kisses, but he cuts you off with another deep, hungry kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer.

Between kisses, Logan growls softly against your lips, "I’ve wanted to do this since you yelled at me and Summers on the street."

Your heart stumbles, your thoughts scrambling to keep pace with his words. His hands slide down your waist. “You were standing there,” he murmurs, “so damn fierce, yelling at us like we deserved it.” He breaks the kiss for just a second, his eyes dark and intense as they lock onto yours. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you.”

His eyes drop to your lips again, as if glued to them. Without waiting for your response, he presses his mouth to yours, this time with more force, more urgency. His hands roam your body, pulling you against him, and you’re powerless to do anything but kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair as the heat between you builds.

“I didn’t know it’d get this bad,” he says, his lips brushing against your jaw as he moves down to your neck. “But after everything? After seeing how strong you are... Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined this. Logan—wanting you, aching for this since the very first moment he laid eyes on you. You break the kiss, your breath coming in quick gasps as you meet Logan's smouldering gaze. And with a small, teasing smile, you raise an eyebrow and whisper, "Let's do something about it, then."

Not giving him a chance to say anything back, you press your hands against his chest and give him a playful shove. He stumbles back a step, his lips curling into a smirk—a kind of cocky grin—as he watches you reach for the zipper of his suit. 

Your fingers drift languidly, a subtle tease in every motion, and you revel in the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. His muscles ripple beneath the surface, and for a brief instant, you're startled by how stunning he looks—battle-worn, scarred, and irresistibly handsome. “You like what you see?” he teases.

You step closer, your hand splayed against his bare chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin as you push him down onto the edge of the bed. “Maybe.”

He lands with a low grunt, his hands instinctively finding your thighs, his fingers trailing up and down as his eyes rake over you. "As hot as you look in this suit," His voice is thick with desire. "You'd look even better without it."

Heat rushes through you at the sound of his voice, your hands drift toward your suit's zipper. Tantalizingly, you begin to pull it down, revealing inch by inch of your skin as you unzip it. His eyes follow your movements, his breathing coming in short, ragged bursts.

You pause just before the fabric slides over your breasts and his hands grip your thighs tighter. Leaning down, your lips brush against his ear, "Patience, Logan."

He groans, "You're killing me here, darlin'."

At last, you pull the zipper down to the end, and with a soft sigh, the suit falls open, slipping from your shoulders and landing in a heap at your feet. His eyes darken, his lips parting slightly as he takes in the sight of you. Then, he inches closer, grabbing the egde of your underwear in his mouth, sliding it down your legs. Once he’s halfway down your thigh, he releases, the underwear dropping to the floor. His strong hands move grip the back of your thighs, hauling you up and onto his lap. 

The moment your bare bodies press together, his lips crash into yours again, fingers digging into your ass, palming it as he pulls you against him, grinding your hips into his.

His lips move from your mouth to your neck, kissing a hot trail down your throat to your shoulders, his hands sliding up to your breasts. Cupping them, he kneads and plays with your nipples, causing you to arch into his touch, a breathy moan tumbling out of your lips. 

Logan growls, and the sound reverberates through your entire body. The intensity of it makes your skin tingle, and you feel your pulse quicken as he squeezes your breasts harder, his mouth moving down to kiss anything he can reach.

You grind against him again, coating his cock with your own slick want. "Shit," he strains, leaning back a bit to give you more access. You can’t stop, he’s so intoxicating, so addicting, and every time your clit goes over the ridges of his hardness, you lose yourself even further.

This continues for some time. The room filled with nothing but the sound of moaning and heavy breathing, as you work in tandem to bring pleasure to each other. Abruptly, you pull yourself off his lap, not missing the way his lips seems to chase after yours, letting your hands trail down his chest, your fingers brushing over the taut muscles of his stomach.

"Where you goin'?" he rumbles. 

Wordlessly, you drop to your knees, your grip coming to rest on his thighs. His chest heaves as he stares down at you—peering up at him through your lashes—realizing what’s about to happen.

His hands grip the edge of the bed, knuckles turning white. Your hands slide up his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms as you move closer, lips brushing against his hard cock. There's a wicked glint in your eyes as you lean in, looking ready to take him in your mouth, but instead, you move to his inner thigh, peppering it in quick little kisses. 

“C’mon, don’t tease,” he breathes out. He’s so hard, it’s almost painful. 

Grabbing him in your hand, you stroke him up and down in slow motions, running your thumb over his leaking, angry tip. He jerks, a fresh cascade of curses tumbling from his mouth. 

“You’re just so cute, though,” you say, before taking him in your mouth, taking him all the way in one motion.

“Holy—”, he starts, but interrupts himself with his own whine, hips bucking involuntarily. 

Looking up, you catch his gaze. His eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide. A flush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck. You hum in satisfaction, sending vibrations through him, and start to bob your head, up and down. 

Saliva begins to pool at the edges of your mouth as you gag a little. He’s so big. You pull him out of your mouth, licking his shaft bottom to tip, swirling your tongue around the most sensitive spot, before sucking on it. One hand moves to cup his balls, while the other begins jerking him up and down, with your mouth still around his tip. 

That gets him. 

You can tell he’s about to finish, and oh, do you want him to. You want to feel him empty in your throat, you want to see him lose it completely. "Wait," he gasps, tapping the top of your head, signalling for your attention. "I want... I need..."

Releasing him with a soft pop, your lips glisten, and you purr seductively. "What do you need?" 

He pulls you up onto the bed, strong arms encircling your waist. His scent surrounds you—musk and pine and something uniquely him. You inhale deeply, letting it fill your lungs. 

"You," he breathes, his lips brushing your ear. "I need you."

Arching into him, you nip at his lower lip. "Then take me," you sigh out. His lips collide with yours again, and your mouth opens involuntarily, his tongue sliding in and tasting you—tasting himself. 

Moaning, you shuffle higher onto the bed, until he hits the back frame, and you crawl on top of him. At this point, you can barely breathe, the need, the want for him so strong your senses are clouded. 

And you’re not alone. Under you, Logan is a wreck. His head falls back against the bed frame, the veins in his neck standing out as he grits his teeth, trying to steady his breathing

“Fuck,” he rasps, the word barely more than a strained exhale. You grab his dick and position yourself above him. Then, you slowly begin to drop down, sucking him in easily, like he was made for you.  

“Oh my god,” you whimper. He feels so good. He’s filling you up to the brim and when you finally sit down, taking him all the way to the hilt, you swear you could finish right then and there. His nose is nuzzles into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning your collarbone, inhaling and practically drooling at your scent. “Is this what you wanted to do when we were sparring?”

All he can do is groan. It’s like he’s growing inside you in response to your words, and it’s so fucking hot. His hands find your thighs again, rubbing and squeezing them, as you adjust to his size for a moment, and he looks up at you. “You have no idea. Fuck—we shoulda done this last night," he grunts breathlessly, "Would have put you right to sleep."

You can’t even think of anything to say back verbally, rather, you just begin to move, lifting yourself right to the tip, and then slamming back down. He feels you clench around him as his cock reaches that deep part within you at the perfect angle. Positioning himself, he meets you halfway, beginning to thrust up into you.

The sound it elicits from you is lethal. 

He won’t last long if this continues. The sight of you on top of him, tits bouncing—it's too much. 

So, when he leans in to kiss you again, he rolls the two of you around, caging you under him. He’s still inside you, you think, but that thought quickly gets wiped out like the rest of them once he starts moving, stretching you out more and more. He’s filling you up so well. Your arms fly out, hands searching for something to grab to ground yourself. 

“You feel so good, darlin’,” he pants above you. “So wet and warm for me.”

His relentless pounding leaves you babbling incoherently. One of his arms move down to your waist, then his fingers begin trailing across your hip, toward your aching pussy, to find your clit, and holy shit. 

Your mind goes blank. 

His skin against yours, his thumb rubbing against that spot, his lips on your neck, it does the trick, and you feel yourself teetering closer to the edge. “I’m–I’m gonna—” you start, but he cuts you off, swallowing you whole.

“Do it,” he says between kisses. “come for me.”

And you do. 

With a loud moan, your fingers find the bedsheets, clutching them tightly as you reach your peak, clamping around him.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “keep clenchin’, keep goin’ ”

His thrusts begin to get sloppy, losing his pacing. The hand that was down at your core moves up and squeezes your tits, so large that he can grab both in just the one. He grinds himself deeper into you, and with one last snap of his hips, you feel it.

Logan moans, dipping his head into your cleavage as he releases himself into you fully. Then, he collapses onto you, dropping his whole body weight onto yours. 

If he’s too heavy for you, you don’t say anything—too caught up in the moment to care. His forehead rests on your sternum, breathing slowing as he catches his breath. For a few beats, neither of you speak, but he starts to press sweet, gentle kisses in the valley between your breasts. 

After a minute, he shifts, lifting his weight off you and sitting up slightly, looking down at you. His hand brushes over your cheek, wiping away some stray strands of hair that have fallen across your face. He gets up from the bed, padding quietly into the bathroom. 

You hear the sound of water running, and moments later, he returns with a damp towel in hand. There’s no hesitation in his movements as he gently begins to clean you up. “Doing alright?” he asks, wiping away the sweat and evidence of your time together.

“Yeah,” you reply softly, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips. “I’m good.”

He doesn’t say much as he finishes, tossing the towel aside before climbing back into bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms. 

His chin rests lightly on the top of your head, and then he says, “I’m proud of you.” The words are filled will sincerity. “And... I’m happy you’re stayin’ with us.”

You turn your head, looking up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Well, you showed me you can actually fight without destroying everything in your path,” you tease, raising an eyebrow as you run your hand lightly down his arm. “Keep that up, and I might just stick around forever.”

Logan grins, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges, just how you like it. “That right?” he murmurs lowly.

He leans in close, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, before adding in a hushed, almost playful tone, “Well, then maybe you’ll be mine forever too.”

----

A/N: feedback is greatly appreciated!

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════

[myownwholewildworld]

THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG ― dbf!mechanic!joel oneshot

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: dbf!mechanic!joel x f!reader. summary: your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it? a/n: well, well, well... what can i say? this whole uniformed!joel shit is giving me proper brain rot. i don't know what came over me while writing this but i just rolled with it. i do appreciate any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated hehe. enjoy! x edit: forgot to mention this oneshot was prompted by this ask! warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. juicy age gap (reader is 21, joel is 48). rough, ABSOLUTE filth & i'm not even sorry. some edging. semi-public groping? masturbation (f and m receiving). oral (f and m receiving). pussy pronouns (she/her). unprotected piv. mouth fucking. very mild brat taming kink. transactional sex. alternating pov. reader is female but that's about it. w/c: ~8.9k of pure filth. divider by @cafekitsune

“Ugh, not again, c’mon!”

Your cranky little car did not have it in it anymore. It was almost fifteen years old now, having passed down from your older brother to you when you turned sixteen five years ago. Out of pure frustration, you hit the steering wheel with the palm of your hand and let out a raspy grunt.

The check engine light had lit up on the dash, which was what caused your fit. And then, as if orchestrated by the universe, the engine made a loud, clicking noise. You flattened your forehead against the wheel, your fingers curling around the rubbery texture with a tight grip.

“You stupid car!”, you screamed at it as if it was a sentient being. “I’m broke, you cannot die on me like this!”

You were on the parking lot of a café. Early that afternoon you had met with some friends to celebrate the beginning of summer and the end of the academic year. One more and you would be done with your degree ― it looked so damn far away, but you still had this summer to look forward to.

Rummaging through your purse, you finally located your cellphone and quickly dialled your dad.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, dad. I’m at Betty’s. The fucking light has come on again?!”

“Watch your mouth!”, he reprimanded you from the other side of the line. You could hear him huff and puff with disapproval. “I think your car is on its last legs, gonna have to think about buying one.”

“You know I can’t afford that, all my savings are going into my degree. I’ll just have to get it fixed for now.”

“Take it to Joel’s then. See what he thinks.”

“But it’s a Sunday, you think he’ll be open?”

“That man is a workaholic, you bet his business is open today.”

“Alright, you reckon he’ll do it for free?”

“For free?” He laughed; you could imagine him shaking his head. “I doubt it, but maybe he’ll give you a discount. Gotta go, little bug. I’ll see you at dinner. If you can make it, obviously.” He mocked you.

“Ha, ha… So funny. Talk to you later.” And you hung up.

The drive to Joel’s garage was a fucking torture. Every time the engine made a squealing noise, your heart would jolt to your throat. You tried to encourage it, whispering sweet nothings in the hopes it would get appeased and make it to Joel’s repair shop.

You also got distracted by your filthy mind. Joel had been in your DILF radar since you were nineteen. Three years ago, your dad celebrated his 45th birthday with a barbecue in the middle of summer. Joel had turned up in a white tee shirt, khaki shorts and flipflops, with untamed silvery curls and a crate of beer under his arm.

When the Texan heat became unbearable, he had stripped himself of his clothes, fashioning a pair of short swim trunks that had left you breathless and wet. When you watched him get out of the water later that afternoon, you could have sworn that the tip of his dick had shown briefly before he discreetly tucked it away. That image had been burnt into your retinas and haunted you since then.

Unconsciously you licked your bottom lip, your core molten with slick, as the car came to a halt. You had arrived at your destination.

There was an old Ford at the front of the garage, someone working under the hood. When the driver’s door of your car slammed against the frame, Joel peeked up from the engine he was working on.

His eyes flickered with recognition. He grabbed an old rag to clean his big, veiny hands of grease and oil. You wondered what else would be big and veiny. Stop it, you dirty fucker, you told yourself.

“Hey, Joel!” You waved at him with a smile.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

You rolled your eyes at him, the grin staying on your plump lips.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Joel. Have not been for a long time now, y’know.” You punctuated, unsure of what you were trying to achieve with that comment. Well, you knew, but did not want to admit it to yourself.

“Oh, I know”, he husked, his voice suddenly gruff.

Tilting your head to one side, you looked at him with question marks in your pupils. Why had he accentuated that “know”? And why all the sudden was your cunt gushing? How could he make you wet with three simple words? You were going to need to request a booty call that night from your friend with benefits.

“Uh, uhmm”, you laughed nervously. “The engine light on my car has come on for the third time this week and the motor is making weird noises, could you check it out for me, please?”

“Sure thing, lemme see.” He took the keys from your hand, electricity cracking between you.

You pursed your lips, a gesture he did not pick up on. Joel walked to the driver’s side, activated something and then the hood popped open. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood up with the metal rod that was inside.

As Joel was inspecting the motor with his broad hands, you put one foot in front of the other in a vain attempt to rub your knees together and cause some friction in your needy cunt. You squeezed your thighs some more as you watched him work with his hands, and you imagined what it would feel like if he was working you instead.

Oof! Take it down a notch, girl, you thought to yourself when your clit twitched in desperation.

Then Joel turned around to look at you.

“When was the last time you changed the timing belt?”

“The... what now?” Your mind was hazy with lust, but even if you had been at your full mental capacity, you wouldn’t have known what he was talking about.

“The timing belt. In the engine. What ensures that the camshaft and crankshaft rotate in sync?” He looked at you with a cocked brow, cleaning his hands again on that old rag.

Oh, I would pay big bucks to be that rag.

“Are you even speaking English?”, you replied back, partially because you really had no idea what he was talking about, partially because your brain was all mushy with desire.

“I’ll take that as a ‘never’ then. You should really get it replaced, seems like that’s your problem. Have you had trouble starting the car?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, this very morning.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. You need to change it asap, if it breaks while you’re driving it would be bad, very bad. You could have an accident. Also trying to fix it after it’s broken will cost you even more.”

“So… will I need to break the bank?” You asked, already flinching at the idea.

Joel seemed to take a second to consider your options, leaning against the passenger’s door and scratching his scruffy beard.

“It’ll be $800.”

Your heart almost stopped, your mouth agape.

“Eight fucking hundred?” He nodded. “Well, can I― Can you not give me a bit of a discount here? You are best friends with my dad. Pretty please?” You laced your fingers together in a prayer and batted your eyelashes at him.

With a low grunt, he straightened his back and folded arms at his chest.

“I’m already giving you one. I would usually charge $1100. You’re already getting a bargain.”

“Well, what about $300?” You counteroffered.

Joel’s brows knitted together and then loudly scoffed.

“What? You think I’m a fucking charity? No, kiddo. $800 and that’s it. If I go any lower, I’d be losing money. Got a business to run here.”

You really did not have $800 bucks to spare. In fact, you barely had five hundred bucks to your name. Asking your family for money was not an option either ― not because you were proud (you were), but because money was tight. Your parents already had enough struggles as it was, you did not want to add to the pile.

You visibly pouted and stumped one foot against the gravel, vexed. A loud sigh slipped through your lips as you pressed the heel of your hands against your eye sockets. You needed the car.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you looked at Joel with puppy eyes, covering the distance that was between you. Pleading, you palmed his strong forearm, your fingers wrapping around the girth of his muscles.

For a brief second, you wondered if you would be able to fully grip his erection. Would your fingertips be able to touch your thumb? Or would he be so thick you would need both hands to handle him?

“Joel, pl―please?”, you stammered, your arousal playing games with your vocal cords.

Unwillingly, he scanned your body up and down ― slowly, taking his time, pondering his options.

Joel had wanted to fuck you for three years now, since your lustful eyes widened at the sight of only his tip on that dreadful summer day. He could vividly remember the way you had chewed your bottom lip as you watched him slide his cock back in his swim trunks, shamelessly, without blinking. You only stopped devouring him when someone talked to you, snapping out of your trance.

That night, when he got home, he had jerked himself off with you in his mind. He had imagined your plump lips sealed around his glans, the tip of your tongue playfully caressing the slit ― your sparkly eyes looking up at him, dreamy and teary, imploring. He had taken his sweet time, rejoicing in his fantasy, until he had spilled in the palm of his hand, as if he was a hormonal teenager. And every time he would fuck someone to find relief, he would visualize your cunt sheathing him, clamping down on his dick like a beartrap.

Ever since then, every time his eyes landed on you, his blood would boil and his cock would harden. Just like now, dick pounding against his boxers, begging to be paid due attention. With the eyes of his imagination, he saw himself letting go and throwing you into the back of your car, drilling your pussy relentlessly until you came wailing, asking for more.

Joel sucked in his breath ― he needed to calm down, distract himself with something else. You were his best friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be daydreaming about fucking you stupid. He had seen you grow since you were a babe.

Never thought of you any other way until that fateful barbeque, when he realised you were a full grown ass woman. Suddenly he had seen you for what you were: a fuckable brat who could get his cock rock-hard with the simple lick a of a lip.

An idea formed as you begged him. You looked desperate ― desperate enough to him at least.

Joel cracked his tongue, his expression unwavering. But if you could see, you would know his cock was throbbing already.

“Well. I do have an idea.” His words dragged, his erection making him feel uncomfortable.

“You do? I’m all ears!” You exclaimed with a lopsided grin, your delicate fingers tighter around his forearm.

His head snapped to his right, pointing to a sign that read “Hand Car Wash”.

“If you help out all summer handwashing cars, I’ll consider part of your debt paid”, he explained, looking down at your hand touching him.

“In full?” You eyed him as if he was your goddamn saviour and that unsettled him.

“I said part of it, kiddo. I’ll leave it at $300.”

You batted your eyelashes at him. Did you know that your suggestiveness was wreaking havoc?

“Anything I can do so the $300 reduces to zero?”

“I’ll think about it”, he reluctantly conceded. Joel had a few ideas in mind, but none of them were precisely appropriate. Not for a twenty-one year old to do with a forty-eight year old at least, that was for sure. “Be here tomorrow at 9 AM, sharp. The team works from nine to twelve, Mondays to Fridays.”

You frantically nodded, almost squealing in excitement. The noise you made forced his cock to twitch. He could make you squeal too, only if you would let him.

“I’ll be here! Thanks, Joel.”

Before he could think, you let go of his forearm and hugged him close to your chest. To your round breasts. Those two meaty globes he wanted to palm so badly. He could swear your nipples were stabbing at him. You embraced him so close to your body, his bulge pressed gently against your lower belly, and he wondered if you could feel him.

And then you stepped back. Quickly, too quickly for his liking.

“You’ll need to leave your car here, don’t want you driving back in that junk. I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift back”, he offered. “Lemme close first and I’ll be right back in five minutes.”

“No probs, take your time.” You smiled at him as you went back to your car to grab your things.

Soon you were on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s pickup truck. It was dusking on the horizon, the light scattering through the windshield. Joel put down the visor so he wouldn’t get blinded by the sun.

“So how’s college going?” His attempt at small talk made you smile.

“It’s good, hard but good. The first year was really bad though. I didn’t know anyone there, so had to make friends and everything.” You mentioned, shrugging, while mindlessly playing with your seatbelt.

“I’m sure you had no problems making friends”, Joel said distractedly, checking all the mirrors before turning at the streetlight.

You placed your elbow on the window frame, the back of your head resting on your palm, and you turned to look at him.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, curious to see what his take on you was. The man was like a brick wall.

“You’re so vivacious and talkative. You’re not the shy kind either, always were part of the popular group in high school, weren’t you?” You nodded, but he didn’t see you, all focused on the road ahead. “Bet’cha you have all the boys running after you.”

Well, that was unexpected. For both you and him, because you saw how his jaw clenched. It was almost imperceptible, but you were so aware of his every move, your body so in tune with his, you couldn’t have missed it.

Had he noticed you? Like, actually? Was it possible that Joel fucking Miller, your freaking dad’s best friend, could look at you with other than paternal eyes? Why would he make hat comment otherwise?

Your cunt, still wet from your previous innocent interaction, fluttered. You had no butterflies in your stomach ― they were actually clapping their fragile wings in between your legs. This man was a fucking menace to your senses, and he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you. Or did he? Time to find out.

You giggled at his question and patted his upper thigh a couple of times, as if he had cracked the best joke you had ever heard. The pad of your fingers almost caressed his groin, that sweet dip where his thigh met his pelvis. The denim under your touch suddenly stretched as Joel flexed his leg, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built up.

You bit your bottom lip as he peered at you askance, your hand still too close to his crotch.

“I actually do, but none of them seem good enough, y’know? I want a man, not a boy”, you ventured, your top teeth sinking further in the soft pillow of your bottom lip.

You saw Joel sucking in his breath ― and the grin in your face grew. He was definitely not immune to you, at least not as much as you had originally thought. He looked so unattainable, always so distant, you had wondered if, in his eyes, you had never grown up.

“Do you now, kiddo?” He asked between gritted teeth, tone throaty.

His brown eyes drifted down for one second, watching the tips of your fingers rubbing the denim of his jeans slightly, and then he locked them back on the road. You heard a low grunt vibrating in his throat, although he tried his best to suppress it.

“Yeah. I’m sick and tired of stupid childish boys. They are just boring now, they lack― well, you know.” You let him brew with your unfinished sentence and removed your hand from his lap.

You could tell Joel finally was able to breathe again as his chest expanded slowly. His reaction to you left a prickling sensation in your pussy ― wet, throbbing, needy. You pressed your knees together, but what you really wanted was for him to reach for you and dunk his thick fingers in your slit.

“Your dad’s there.” He stated, succinct, after clearing his throat.

You looked over your shoulder and through the window to realise that, in fact, you had arrived home. Your father was already waiting for you on the porch, probably because he recognised the noise of Joel’s truck’s exhaust pipe. And then he started walking towards you.

You suppressed a pouting grimace ― you wanted just a few more minutes alone with Joel. A few more moves and, who knew? Maybe you would have him fingering the shit out of you. But thanks to your father, you would never find out.

Your father knocked on the passenger’s window and you rolled it down, smiling. Although what you really wanted to do was smack him for interrupting.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hey, sweetie. How’s the car?”

“Well…” You looked at Joel ― you had already forgotten what was it that needed replacing.

“The timing belt is going. Bit expensive but your daughter and I have reached an agreement. Will reduce the price for her but she’s gotta come work on the hand-wash business”, he explained, matter-of-factly.

“Sounds ‘bout right. Get your first taste of what the real world is like.” Your dad laughed at his own occurrence, while your mind drifted far, very far.

“I’d love to get a taste.” You answered feigning innocence, turning your face to Joel with a very wide smile painted on your mouth.

His eyes darkened, transfixed on yours. Oh, he knew exactly what you meant. He subtly stirred on his seat and you wanted to giggle so bad, but refrained.

“Hey, Joel. There’s a game on tomorrow night. You wanna come over? Can have something to eat, few beers, will be fun. I need the company, God knows this lady over here just complains while scrolling through her social media”, he pointed towards you with his thumb and you simply rolled your eyes at him.

Watching football with your old man was as boring as it got. However, if Joel Miller was there, he would have your undivided attention. Well, not him, the screen, obviously. Duh.

Your eyes shot to his, expectant. Your cunt was even more anticipative of his answer.

“Yeah, why not?”

Famous last words. That was Joel’s only thought as soon as he entered his best friend’s home. You greeted him at the door, all smiley and welcoming, ignoring the fact that you had been trying to get him hard the. whole. fucking. day.

You had come to work with some very short jeans ― every time you bent down to rub the sponge on the car’s bodywork, the bottom part of your perfectly round ass cheeks would show beneath the denim. Did you even wear any underwear? He thought not.

And then that white crop top was the fucking end of him. You had gotten it all wet when a loaded sponge dripped all over your front while you were talking to him about some trivial thing he could no longer remember. You had tittered and apologised while you scrunched it to get as much water out as possible. And the only thing he had been able to focus on were your pointy nipples, staring right at him, screaming for his caress.

After that, he had been at full mast the whole damn shift.

“Hi, Joel, come in!” You greeted him excitedly, swinging the door open.

He had taken a cold shower before coming over, but maybe what he needed was a fucking ice bath. Because the moment you batted your eyelashes at him, his cock twitched again. Joel had fisted his dick while showering, in the hopes that emptying his nuts before seeing you again would placate his lust for you.

Nope, hadn’t worked. Not one bit. This was probably a bad idea.

“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted you, emphasizing the last word.

He could literally be your fucking father, but that did not seem to deter you. If anything, it spurred you on. Had you no shame? Had he no shame? Because he should have stopped you the moment you started to be suggestive. Instead, he had let you go on, enjoying every single second of it.

Joel walked in and made his way to the kitchen, with you on his heels, where your father was lathering up some ribs with his secret sauce recipe.

“Hey, Joel. Let me get that from you”, he said before cleaning his hands on a kitchen towel and grabbing the beer crate from him.

Feeling they were still cold, his best friend cracked two open and handed him one. Joel lifted the can to his lips and saw you looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Want one?” he asked, since you were of legal drinking age.

You shook your head no, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

“Eww, nah. I hate beer”, you sniggered and his dick spasmed some more.

“‘Course you do”, said your father before he could reply. “You only drink― What’s that crap again?”

“Gin and tonic, dad. It’s literally gin and tonic mixed. It’s not that fancy.” You huffed and puffed, shaking your head.

“This youth mixing everything because they can’t have proper alcohol. What’s next? Mixing beer with lemonade or something like that?”

“Well, that’s actually a thing. It’s called a shandy. Don’t be so old.”

Joel let you two have a go at each other. Observing the exchange, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the island, knees slightly bent.

“What?! You listening to this, Joel?” You father exclaimed with a joking tone. “Is Sarah like this too?”

“Yeah, exactly like this. Thinks beer is disgusting and everything. Thought I raised her better than that, but apparently not.” He jested, sipping from the tin can.

“How’s she doing?” His friend asked.

“She’s fine. She’s turning twenty-four in a couple of weeks. She moved out two months ago, gone to Houston for her new job.” He couldn’t help but be proud of his Sarah. She had accomplished so much. “She’s supposed to be here for her birthday, but we’ll see. She’s always so busy, don’t really know with what.”

“Aren’t they all? I barely see this one over here and she still lives under my roof.”

You folded arms, rolling your eyes again, while you sat down beside Joel on another stool.

“Sorry for having a social life? Like, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you watching football? Got better things to do, dad.”

“So you ain’t staying tonight then?” Your dad asked.

Joel turned to study you, interested in your answer. Could he have some reprieve tonight?

“Of course I’m stayin’. Would be rude not to when we have guests over, right, Joel?” And as the last words abandoned your mouth, you placed your left hand on his right thigh under the counter.

God have mercy.

Joel’s muscles stiffened, one in particular more than the others. His thighs were tense as he gripped the beer can with more strength than what was necessary. He kept his eyes to the front, taming his breathing.

He should have done something, slapping your hand away from his lap for instance. But he didn’t. And you took that as an invitation, because soon enough you were kneading his bulge under the kitchen island. Your palm rubbed harshly against the denim, and he saw you chewing your bottom lip.

Your father busied himself with seasoning the ribs and the French fries, oblivious to what was happening just a few meters away from him. This feels fucking wrong, but so fucking good, Joel thought to himself, your hand frisking his groin brazenly.

His cock was thudding with desire under his clothing, begging to be freed from its prison. You sensed his desperation, because you quickly tried to clasp your hand around it. Feeling your frustration at the inability of fisting him properly, Joel parted his legs to give you better access. If that was not an open invitation, nothing was.

I’m already going to hell. Joel had to stop himself of sucking his breath in when you started to unzip his jeans. His eyes slightly widened, but that was his only tell.

“So who do you reckon is going to win tonight?” Your father asked as your fingers dipped underneath his boxers.

Your warm skin against his beating cock dulled his senses. Then you took his dick out of his boxers and attempted to circle his girth while working him. Joel had to drink from his beer to shut himself up.

“Not sure, but I’d like for the Longhorns to win”, he spat the words out as best he could given the circumstances.

“Yeah, would be nice seeing our hometown win something this season”, your father continued with the small talk.

Joel’s thighs flexed when you started pumping him decisively. Fuck. He briefly looked down at his erection. It felt too damn good, your tiny fingers gripping him hard as you slowly moved your hand up and down on his lap. The tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you expertly rubbed it on his foreskin with your thumb.

As your father turned around to put everything in the oven, Joel took the chance to look at you. With your gaze averted, you pretended there was something interesting in the wall in front of you, while your right hand was buried underneath your slutty denim shorts. Joel could swear he could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making while you played with yourself.

“Right, I think this is it. Gotta wait for an hour until everything’s properly cooked. Wanna move to the family room in the meantime?” He happily chattered as he walked around the kitchen island.

You reacted quickly and let go of his shaft. With his lap right under the kitchen counter, Joel hoped to hell his friend would not see anything out of the ordinary.

“Yeah”, he said with a coarse voice. “Need to go to the bathroom first.”

Your father just nodded as he sauntered towards the living room and Joel almost let go a sigh of relief. You simply chortled as you put your left thumb in your mouth, making it obvious that you were tasting his precum.

Joel’s cock jerked on his lap as he whispered a blasphemy. Quickly he tucked away his painful dick back in his boxers and zipped his jeans as he stood up. Then he retreated to the bathroom, needing a fucking moment to find his composure again.

Until he heard you.

“Gonna go get my phone charger, be back in a jiffy!”

Before Joel could close the door behind him, you slipped your hand in the door gap to stop him from shutting it. You caught him off guard, because he stepped back, brows knitting when he saw you under the door frame.

“What’cha doing?”, he questioned you.

You could feel the rigidity radiating from him. You entered the small bathroom and silently closed the door behind you, both of your hands holding onto the doorknob on your back.

“I came to finish what I started.”

You didn’t give him time to think ― if you did, you knew he would put an end to this. You were too turned on, your cunt beating every time your heart did. Your pussy lips were all wet and puffy ― you could feel your slick trapped between your folds, almost seeping into your panties. You had unleashed the beast and wanted it all for yourself.

So you threw yourself into Joel’s chest, your teeth softly scratching his Adam’s apple as one of your hands found its way back to his cock. He tilted his chin up and groaned at your touch. His pounding dick felt warm and velvety against your palm, so hard from working him under the kitchen counter a minute before.

Once he opened his eyes again, he looked down at you as you gripped his erection with both hands. Slowly you jerked him off, feeling powerful with him on the palm of your hands. Every time you pumped him, your clit would twitch in response. He had not touched you yet and your pussy was already palpitating for him. You could not wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

 “We shouldn’t, your father is right there―”

You could not care less. And to make it evident, you sunk to your knees in front of him, still holding his cock, now at eye level.

Your tongue darted out and you leaned his dick forward until the tip rested flat against your tongue, your hands still working his veiny shaft.

“You were saying?” You asked before briefly pecking his glans.

“Fuck”, was the only thing he managed to mumble.

That was your cue to give free rein to your lust. You nudged his column with the tip of your nose as your mouth drifted down to kiss his balls. Then your tongue slid out in its full extension, and you flattened it against the underside of his cock, slowly lapping at it until you reached the top and sealed your lips around his mushroom head.

Glancing up at him, you saw pleasure softening his features as you took him in further and further down, until his cock reached the natural resistance at the end of your throat. When his tip bottomed out in your mouth, Joel’s eyes found yours. His jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cock burrowed in between your lips, tears gathering on your bottom eyelids because of how his dick was outstretching you.

You moaned as Joel pulled his hips back, his shaft leaving your wet cavity, now full of precum and saliva. You swallowed to make room as you avidly tipped your head towards him, your lips hunting down his dick again. Slurping so you wouldn’t drown in fluids, you ate his cock like if it was the last edible thing on earth.

At that moment, something shifted in the air. As if Joel, finally, let go of his prejudices and accepted what you were giving him: your mouth to use as he pleased. His fingers hovered over your temples and then they clamped down on your skull as he held you in place.

“Stay still”, he commanded, and you nodded, his cock sitting snugly in your mouth.

His hips moved back and then forward, rocking his dick in and out of your lips. First slow, then picking up a pace. You stayed put throughout while he fucked your mouth mercilessly, palms against your knees like the good girl you were. Then his glans breached your uvula and you inevitably gagged at the intrusion.

He forced you to remain still as he tried to go further down, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your eyes welled up while you fought back the need to cough, almost unable to breathe.

Joel snapped his hips back and your mouth became free. You started panting while trying to catch a breath. Joel cupped your chin up so you would look at him. His sly grin told you he was enjoying himself a bit too much.

“Can tell you’ve not eaten many cocks, have you? Despite pretending to be this slutty brat in front of everyone, hm?” He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“Well, I―” He didn’t let you finish the sentence because as soon as you opened your mouth, he slotted his dick back in between your plump lips.

“I actually don’t wanna hear it.”

Inevitably your cunt gushed at his roughness. He was right though ― you had only given head to two guys before and their cocks did not measure up to his. Your jaw had actually started to hurt now due to the effort you were making to house his dick in your mouth.

Joel quickly resumed his pounding, fucking your mouth relentlessly ― his hips swaying back and forth in front of you.

“Sweetie! Can you bring my charger too please?” Your father’s question forced both of you to snap out of the sexual haziness you both were feeling.

You two froze in place, Joel’s cock still in your mouth.

“Or I can come get it.” Then you heard his booted steps coming up the corridor.

In a panic, Joel stumbled back and you sprang to your feet, eyes widened with fear.

“No! Don’t worry! I’m coming!” You shouted back, hoping that your voice sounded far away enough to him.

The steps stopped and you both listened to him walking back to the living room. “Thank you, sweetie!”

You turned to look at Joel, who had grabbed a bunch of toilet roll to clean off the mess on his still throbbing cock.

“Joel, I’m sorry, b―”

“Just go before he changes his mind and comes looking for you”, his voice was strained with effort. His erection had to be painful by now without any relief.

But he was right. You couldn’t risk it. Neither of you could. So with apologetic eyes, you slithered out the bathroom door and ran to your room to snatch a couple of phone chargers.

Fucking torture that was.

Joel had never been in a worse position than that. Sat on the couch with you, your father on the recliner just a couple of meters away ― and his dick still pulsating, his balls full of unspent cum. His cock would writhe in his boxers, asking for a relief that never came. He was in excruciating pain and was not able to concentrate at all. All the small talk your father did went over his head, didn’t pay attention to the TV’s commentary either.

From time to time, you would graze his thigh lightly ― and on one occasion you slid your naughty hand towards his groin. Luckily the living room was dark, the TV being the only source of light, so your father didn’t pay much attention to your provocations. You quietly kneaded his bulge, curling your fingers around his erection underneath, and it got to a point where Joel had to force your hand away, because he was too close to coming.

So, when he waved you both goodbye and got into his truck, he could literally not wait to get home. Under the dim light of the lampposts that filtered through the windows into the truck’s cabin, Joel freed his aching dick and fisted it from the base. With his head tilted back against the headrest, he furiously jerked off ― fast and with no measure, to the point it was almost hurting. Tension built up from his nuts upwards and when Joel finally got relief, he groaned audibly as his cum spurted out in white, thick streaks.

With a heavy sigh and some laboured breathing, he opened his eyes, looking for some tissues to clean the mess on his lap. As he was putting his cock back in his boxers, something caught his attention.

The darkness camouflaged you well, but he spotted you on the window of your room, watching him eagerly with half-lidded eyes and chewing your bottom lip. Then your head leaned forward, your chin almost touching your chest, and Joel suddenly understood what was happening. You had been touching yourself while observing him do the same thing, until you orgasmed too.

Your eyes locked on each other’s through the blackness, something dark and perverted floating in the atmosphere. The whole thing felt wrong. The right kind of wrong.

The next week had been a continuous dance between the two of you. You too suggestive, him too evasive. After you had seen him wanking in his car, you had thought you had him under your spell. He had looked like a damn teenager chasing his release, unable to contain it much longer.

But you couldn’t blame him ― you had had him on edge for almost five hours. First touching him under the counter, then sucking his dick in the bathroom, and finally kneading him on the couch with your dad only two meters away.

It all had affected you too, because as soon as you had scurried away to your room and had looked out the window, you fingered yourself with your eyes locked on him. You came so hard, that you had to steady yourself on the windowsill, trembling knees and all. And once the orgasm softened its grip on you, you had realised he had been watching you as you rode the last wave of your climax.

So yes, for a week you tried to seduce him again, because you needed to know how it all ended. Having him burrowed down to your guts was a necessity now. However, it got to a point where you almost gave up ― it was draining having to follow him around like a bitch in heat. You still had one ace up your sleeve though. One that you hoped to play this afternoon. Because if you didn’t fuck him today, you were going to lose your shit.

You focused on your task, which was rubbing the soaked sponge on the bodywork of the car. Two other people were doing the same thing on the back, while you were slightly bent over the hood trying to reach the middle. Your breasts brushed against the metalwork, your white tank top completely wet with soapy water, almost transparent now. The coldness was refreshing in the asphyxiating Texan heat and your nipples especially welcomed it, wrinkling tightly and showing through the fabric.

When you straightened, you caught a glimpse of Joel eyeing you intently. But you pretended you didn’t ― maybe you needed to play difficult, show him no interest. Reverse psychology. So for the rest of your shift you just ignored him, fully conscious of how his sight followed you at all times. Let him brew.

Joel didn’t say a word though, didn’t come close to you either. But you heard him wicker while you were openly teasing one of your teammates. Were you trying to make him jealous? Absolutely. So, you giggled and played with your hair at the tasteless joke your colleague told you. It wasn’t funny, but you wanted Joel to listen to your flirting.

Midday came around and the other two people working on the hand wash business said their goodbyes. Joel employed a father and son in the shop too, who left the garage to go home for lunch. And then it was only you and Joel left. Just as you had planned.

“Joel? Can you help me with this, please?” You politely asked him after lifting a bucket full of water up to your chest.

You took a couple of steps forward and the water spilt all over, soaking your shirt completely.

“Shit”, you heard him say under his breath, jogging towards you.

He slipped his arms underneath the bucket to release you from its weight and then placed it back down between both of you.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna hurt your back with such terrible manual handling.” He reprimanded you, tutting.

“Something hurts and it’s not my back, Joel.” You muttered, your fingers wrapping around his wrist to haul him closer to you.

You were done with subtlety. You guided his hand to your pussy and pressed it gently.

“Hurts right here.” The low, needy mumble poured from your lips like honey.

Joel’s eyes squinted just a tad, and his nostrils flared. You saw the inner battle in his chocolate eyes, and you fucking hoped he lost.

Soon you had the answer you had been looking for. The palm of his hand flattened against your crotch, holding you possessively, and pulled you against his broad chest. You couldn’t help but moan when your breasts pressed against him, your taut nipples aching with sensitivity.

“You’re so fucking nasty, kiddo. Been watching you all week, trying to get me hard all over again, haven’t you?” You shyly nodded, biting down your bottom lip as you glanced up at him, his palm rubbing your cunt with determination. “Of course you have, you’re so cock drunk. You loved sucking me, didn’t you?”

You shook your head yes, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. You whimpered when his thumb burrowed in your pants, trying to find your slit over all that clothing unsuccessfully.

“Joel, please.” You begged for mercy, for relief, for something ― anything he could give you, you would take.

“You want me to fuck you, kiddo?” His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up, while his thumb kept nudging your damp slit. His mouth hovered over yours as you simply nodded again. “Hm? You want me to destroy your pussy?”

“Yes, yes, YES.” You were already gushing at his dirty talk.

With no more prodding, Joel bowed down and sunk his tongue in your mouth, darting in with the ferocity only a man on the edge could feel. He swept your entire cavity in an open-mouth kiss that left your knees shaking and your pussy throbbing. You moaned into his breath and your tongue lapped at his, the span on his fingers gently covering your neck and squeezing lightly.

Joel’s hand between your legs moved to your ass, pressing you into him. His swollen lump poked at your lower belly intimately and you couldn’t resist the urge to dip your hand in his boxers. He audibly groaned as you attempted to circle his whole girth and failed. Just like a week before, you would need both of your hands around his shaft to properly grip him. You pumped him once, very slow, your hand gliding down till it found his balls.

Joel grunted in the middle of the sloppy kiss and pushed you to go backwards until your body met the back of his pickup truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway. Out of prying eyes, you hoped. Not that you cared that much at this precise moment, anyway.

His beard scratched the skin on your cheek as his lips drifted down to your neck. You looked up to the clear sky before you closed your eyes, giving his pulsing cock a light squeeze that snatched a moan out of him.

Without warning, Joel broke the messy kiss and knelt before you, his hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts with no difficulty. Soon your pants were around your ankles, your panties quickly following, leaving you naked from the waist down. Joel helped you take them off but left your tennis on.

Still on his knees, he peeked up with a devilish smile, then leaned forward and lapped at your mound. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as your fingers raked his salt and pepper curls. The tip of his tongue brushed the point where your slit started and then licked upwards, his tongue skidding through your skin until it reached your belly button.

You pursed your lips, wanting him to go down, not up. In fact, you pushed him down ever so slightly and the cold of his breath against your wet skin when he laughed made you look down, frustrated.

He kissed the beginning of your slit again and when you thought he was going in, he stopped. You whimpered, thwarted, as he got back up to his feet and towered above you.

“You want me to touch you where it hurts, hm?” He questioned with his lips ghosting yours. “Your pussy? That’s where?”

Not waiting for your reply, his index dunked in your pearly furrow and traced it in its entirety, from your quivering hole to your thumping clit. And then he did it again, for good measure.

“You’re soaking, kiddo. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping.” To emphasize his words, Joel suddenly dived his finger in your opening, a squelching sound making it obvious that you were, in fact, dripping. “You hear that?” He forced his finger out and then back in, the wet, sucking noise even louder this time.

You frantically nodded as he fingered you, his thumb caressing your begging clit as he did. You mewled into his chest, eyes shut, trying to calm the fluttering of your inner walls around his lonely finger. Lonely not for long, because Joel then introduced a second. You held onto his sides, his tee shirt scrunching in your fists, the orgasm building up.

“C’mon, squeeze your cunt for me. Show me how tight you are”, he whispered in your ear as his relentless fingering picked up a faster pace between your legs.

You happily obliged and squashed your walls together around his fingers as he dextrously stroked your g-spot. All of a sudden, a firing sensation built in your clit without warning and the haziness of pleasure took over your senses abruptly. You came hard, very hard, wailing his name as he kept on fingering you until the last wave of your climax washed over you.

What the actual fuck? You thought to yourself, amazed. You rested your forehead against his chest, catching a breath and feeling your arousal wetting your inner thighs.

Still recovering from your unexpected orgasm, Joel picked you up and settled you down on the edge of his truck’s cargo bed. Your feet dangled in front of you, and you parted your legs to make room for him while you wrapped his neck with your arms and licked into his mouth.

“Now I’m gonna eat you raw, kiddo. Give you some of your own medicine.” His hoarse tone gave you goosebumps. Palming both of your breasts over your wet tank top, he pushed you down until your back met the floor of the cargo bed, your legs hanging freely from your knees down. “Is that what you want? This old man feasting on your pussy, on her? ‘S she gonna like it?”

“Joel, please, just― Yes, eat my pussy. Eat her, eat me, please.” You begged with a small voice while you pinched your nipples over your shirt, eyes closed.

And finally, he did. With his hands on your knees to keep them apart, Joel lapped at your cunt in one sweet sweep. Your body trembled with elation, shivers firing down your spine. His tongue caressed all the crevices in your shiny slit, lips puffy and reddened. His thumb found your clit as the tip of his tongue played with your leaking hole, going in and out a few times ― fucking you with his tongue.

You were not able to take it for much longer ― with Joel’s tongue lodged in your creamy fold and your fingers playing with your nipples, you were done for. Soon you came undone, tension growing in your lower belly and molten lava finding its way out. You howled his name, your knees pressing against his head, holding him in place as you came in his mouth. Joel sipped from your fountain, leaving not even one drop behind, your pussy licked clean of your own discharge.

His turn to find relief.

Even though Joel had been fisting himself while eating you raw, the roughness of his palm could not compare to your warmth. He just knew your pussy would hug his cock just right. And he was dying to find out.

Pushing his work jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked his feet until they came off. Soon his security shoes and socks were kicked to the side too. With renewed energy, Joel jumped on to the cargo bed. You propped your torso up with the help of your elbows to study his erection, wetting your lips unknowingly.

Your eyes lingered on his cock for too damn long and it twitched on his hand.

“Spread your legs, kiddo.”

And so you did without complaints. You stretched your legs, Joel having a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You were so horny, he could literally see your cunt palpitating from this angle. Knelt between your legs, he leaned forward until the tip of his dick brushed against your slit, so damp again it just slid off. Jerking himself off, he nudged your soaked entrance with his mushroom head and your mouth opened, shaping a perfect O.

“So needy, isn’t she? Aren’t you? Playing difficult to catch today, trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, but in reality, you’re just a desperate brat wanting to get her pussy drilled by her dad’s best friend.” His dirty talk did not stop while he pushed in, your flesh parting to house him until he bottomed out.

Joel moaned, sweat gathering on his brow, his hands on either side of your head. He stood still for a long minute while your cunt fluttered around him, sheathing his whole length. He could feel your inner muscles adjusting to him.

You were so cockstruck you didn’t even reply.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, so take it well, kiddo.” He warned before tilting his hips back and abruptly back in.

You wailed loudly at the first thrust, and Joel had to muffle your screams by covering your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm, but he didn’t let go. He did not want you to alert the neighbours around the garage. His hips bucked against yours and then, after a few teasing shoves, Joel started jackhammering you fast and viciously hard.

You draped your legs around his waist, the heels of your white tennis pushing on his ass cheeks, encouraging to go deeper and quicker. And so he did, uncovering your mouth to replace it with his.

Joel fucked you mercilessly, filthily. He drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your tacky pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft sobs only spurred him on and when your moist pussy clutched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restraint himself for much longer.

He stoically let you come while riding your own climax. His balls tightened and his belly muscles strained, signalling his own relief.

“Where?”, was the only word that he managed to whisper.

Your eyes were still closed, a languid smile lingering on your lips, all blissful and satisfied while he was still fucking suffering.

“In my mouth.” Your reply was almost his undoing.

Joel snapped his hips back, his hard, throbbing cock slipping out. He dragged his body across yours until his thick, hairy thighs were on each side of your head and his nuts were resting on your chin, his ass hanging over your breasts.

“Open”, he husked, raspy and throaty.

Still with your eyes closed, you parted your lips, and Joel shoved his beating cock down your throat unceremoniously. He leaned forward over you ― his hands holding his weight off you, flat against the cargo bed’s floor. And then Joel started fucking your mouth mindlessly, as if it was your cunt ― his testicles slapping against your chin and your eyes welling up.

He could feel your head almost rocking up and down below him with the strength of his thrusts. You only stopped swaying underneath him when your hands grabbed his buttocks, your fingers sinking in his flesh.

With a guttural growl, Joel came undone and his thick cum filled your mouth. You stayed still while the last white ropes spurted out the slit on his tip, finally reaching the bliss he had been chasing for a week.

Joel lifted his hips off your face and his dick came out of your mouth with a pop.

“Eat it, kiddo.” He requested of you, towering above you.

From this angle, flat on your back and with Joel almost sat on your face, you saw first his balls and then his soft cock hovering over your eyes. What had just happened was filthy, and you loved it, even though you were sure that your throat would hurt tomorrow.

“It’s $300 if I swallow”, you kidded out of nowhere, almost gargling with his cum as your mouth was full of it.

Joel chuckled as he came off you, sitting down on your left.

“Deal”, he agreed.

And so you gulped his cum down, letting it slip down your throat until it landed in your belly. You smiled at him before opening your mouth to show him it was empty.

Joel’s chest rumbled with satisfaction.

“Good girl.”

[babydipper]

“How did you know how to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Stitch me up.”

“It's just sewing.”

“And the IV?”

Jazz’s mouth opens, then closes as she also closes her eyes. He lets her think about the answer, a good enough lie. “A friend had a doctor phase a few years ago. We would try to do a lot of things on fake skin before she moved on to tattooing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I am telling the truth. Look, I had- I had a weird childhood, so sometimes I had to improvise.”

“No, I believe you,” he says, and he means it. It's so stupid she couldn't make it up. There's also a part of his still light-headed brain that can translate weird childhood and improvise into what it truly means. Maybe she has lied, but not about the thing he thought she would, and it counts for something. The wind on the roof gives him shivers. “Why would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Help me out. It's none of your business.”

Jazz watches him attentively and there's something about it that makes his muscles tense, body fully ready to jump. She tilts her head just slightly. “We live together,” she points out as if it explains everything. As always, it doesn't. Then she bites her lip. “I- I have never had anyone to catch me if I fall. I guessed you don't have anyone like this either.”

It hits him harder than the fucking bullet last night. “You think I would catch you.”

Jazz smiles and it's full of mischief. Then, like a fucking psycho she is, she leans back out the edge of the building.

He has her arm in an iron grip before he can think about it and pulls so hard, she stumbles forward and falls onto him, laughing, bouncing back like a tennis ball. “Are you fucking insane?”

Jazz just laughs harder, her forehead on Jason's chest, her arm still firmly kept in his hand. “Now we both know you would catch me.”

“You are so full of shit,” he grumbles, but the vibration on his skin manages to calm his heart back to a rational tempo. “You could have died.” It makes her burst out into a fit of giggles. “I got shot last night, you dipshit, I wouldn't be able to jump after you.” Not to mention the lack of proper equipment.

“Sorry I needed an outlet after literally saving your ass.”

Jason closes his eyes, trying to contain the laughter, “I will push you.” The wound was on his inner thigh, not his ass, so she can fuck right off for all he cares.

“I'd like to see you try,” she bites back. “You should have this checked out, by the way. Are you even vaccinated?”

“No need to.”

“I'll drive,” she gets off him, deaf to anything he says, and starts to climb down.

Jason follows. She doesn't even know the address. “Like hell, you will.”

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Trippin', Fallin' With No Safety Net

My headcanons of the lads men with a clumsy reader [Requested by: Anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

this man is damn near giving himself an anxiety attack worrying about you when you're not with him

covers the corner of the table with his hand when you lean down to pick something up

cuts your food for you now because you cut your finger one time and gave him a heart attack

his reflexes have sharpened from having to catch you every time you trip

keeps a pair of sneakers and flats in his car in case you drink when you two are out because he knows you'll stumble and fall in a pair of heels

would switch out his sharp cornered coffee table for an oval shaped one because you kept hitting your knee on it

places all your extra pillows on the floor on your side of the bed after you rolled off one night

keeps first aid kits everywhere because you're a walking hazard to yourself

does not let you grab a glass from a shelf you can barely reach

doesn't let you carry more than one bag because you tried to make one trip with the grocery bags and fell head first into a wall

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

still laughs every time you trip or fall "are you okay?" "stop laughing!" "I'm sorry the noise you made was funny"

holds your hand or waist when you walk up/down the stairs because you've fallen one too many times

if you drop something at the table he'll pick it up for you

gets rid of the rugs you somehow keep tripping on

is fighting for his life trying to keep you off the counters when you can't reach something

you slipped in the shower one time and gave yourself a concussion now he won't let you shower alone

subtly childproofs his house

is always confused whenever you trip, fall or get stuck "now how the hell did you do that?" "I don't know Raf help me!"

constantly pretends to toss you stuff "Think fast!" " STOP IM NOT GONNA CATCH IT!" he's already cackling on the floor

side steps you to throw you off balance on purpose; always catches you when you start falling

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

you fell down the stairs once and now he happily carries you up and down them whenever he's with you

covers the corner of the table with his hand when you drop something and lean down to pick it up

also showers with you now after you slipped one time

doesn't let your carry more than one plate

gets a google home or Alexa so you can speak to turn the lights on because you tend to run into walls looking for light switches

grabs everything you can't reach after you pulled an entire shelf down on yourself in public

sends you check-in texts to make sure you haven't hurt yourself when he doesn't see you (not that you'd admit it anyway)

is so used to your clumsiness he can almost sense when something is about to go wrong

secretly finds your clumsiness cute and now he has another reason to have you in his arms at all times

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

Sylus is probably the perfect man to be with because his evol would be perfect for protecting you

places his hand on your head when you lean down to pick something up to stop you from bumping it on anything

buys you fluffy slippers to wear around the house so your pinky toe stops banging everything in the house

wraps his evol around you when he catches you climbing on something

you cut yourself with a knife once and he hid them for only him and the chef to use after that

has the twins keep an eye on you when he's not around

replaces any tables with sharp corners for smooth edged tables

has his shower renovated with pebble stone flooring so you don't slip

takes your heels and carries you when you start stumbling

keeps a hand on your waist when going up or down the stairs

is so used to you falling all the time its almost like his evol acts on it's own to catch you

uses your clumsiness as a reason for why he should go with you everywhere

gets rid of every rug in the house and opts to get heated floors because you keep tripping on the rugs, but he knew you'd complain about the cold floors

[kerosene-saint]

what mutual am i (made by me cause I thought it would be fun) ASK GAME

[Picture ID: A drawing with 12 circles all different colors and labeled different things, bullet points follow under them.

the first circle is a deep purple with light purple glitter particles. It's labeled "purple glitter" and the bullet points under it say: "fabulous", "I love your aesthetic very much", "you do have an abnormal amount of microplastics in your blood though".

the second circle is a neon green with a lighter green wave around it. it's labeled radioactive. the bullet points for it are "some sort of creature", "you give bioluminessence vibes".

the third circle is a medium pink with dark green leave and a stem on the top. it's labeled starberry. the bullet points are "I think we should bake together", "flower crowns possibly".

the fourth circle is a light seafoam green labeled seafoam green. the bullet points are "maybe a little snobby", "calm yourself", "I don't know why I still follow you tbh", "Maybe I'm just reading you wrong".

the fith circle is multiple colors, in order from top to bottom: very light blue, sky blue, yellow, red, black, purple, pink, to light pink. it's labeled do you like the color of the sky. the bullet points are "you're always on tumblr", "hits post limit daily", "you should go watch some tumblr history videos if you haven't already".

circle number six is a brick pattern labeled throwing bricks. the bullet points are "you're my resource for all of the things happening in the world", "probably really punk or at least an Anarchist".

circle number seven is a red panda's facial fur pattern labeled red panda. the bullet points are "so soft", "very small", "you're so cute", "my favorite silly".

circle eight is a light off white color labeled cu- I mean creme. the bullet points are "Hey there", "I mean you wanted to-", "slash jay".

circle nine is a deep gold color with a light shine to it labeled stay gold. the bullet points are "book reader", "how do you read so many", "pretty cool", "also a nerd".

the tenth circle is a medium purple with a light purple heart in the center. it's labeled my favorite purple. the bullet points are "you're my favorite person on this hellsite", "why are you here, you're so nice", "are you a people pleaser".

the eleventh circle is a bright pink with pastel pink stars labeled barbie dream house. the bullet points are "nostalgia.", "do you live in the past I swear you do", "are those rose tinted glasses comfortable bub".

the final circle is a black color with a red blood splotch. it's labeled Gerard Way in the 2000s. the bullet points are "popular mutual", "I think you're pretty neat and also kind of scary", "probably really sweet but I'm still intimidated". /.End ID]

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You don't really talk to your (extremely attractive) neighbour, Rio Vidal, until one day an accident leads to you staying at her apartment for a couple of days. And an awkward encounter results in having your fantasy come true. -OR- Rio finds you injured after you slipped and fell out the shower and decides to look after you (non-magic AU)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blood, small injury, fluff, smut, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving)

Words: 3.4k

A/N: Just wanted to write a bit of Rio caring for reader and well then it turned into smut and I have no regrets. Also I have their whole relationship arc in my head now lol

AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Master List

The Worst Morning Of Your Life (so far)

Rio Vidal is your neighbour. You've noticed her plenty of times before—a striking woman with a sharp, confident look that's hard to ignore. You live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. Most days, your interactions are limited to polite smiles and brief chats in the elevator, her dark suit and badge often catching your eye. You've heard her phone buzz with work calls that end with her curt, professional voice. It's obvious she's someone important—serious and dedicated. You've pieced together that she's an FBI agent, but beyond that, you don't know much about her.

You can't deny that you're drawn to her, though. There's something about the way she carries herself—all self-assured and enigmatic. You've caught yourself staring a few times, your heart skipping a beat when she looks back and flashes a rare, amused smile. It's not just her looks—it's the way she moves, the air of mystery she carries, like she's seen things you could only imagine. It makes you nervous, but at the same time, you can't help but look forward to those fleeting moments when your paths cross.

One morning, your shower decides to betray you—your hot water cuts out just as you put your head under. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, quickly trying to jump out of the shower. Unfortunately for you, your foot slips on the hard floor, and you come crashing down, hitting your head on the sink, landing with a very loud thud. Dazed and confused, you are unsure if you passed out for a second there or not, but either way your head is killing you. 

"Fucking brilliant," you mutter to yourself, draping an arm across your eyes to shield them from the light.

At that moment, you heard your front door slamming open and hurried footsteps searching your apartment. You had just about enough sense to yank your towel off the hook and cover up your naked body.

"Y/N?" called a voice just outside the bathroom door.

Shit. It was Rio. You wished the ground would just swallow you up.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream, and then I heard something shatter." You could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the shards of glass from what used to be your bathroom shelf, surrounding you. All you could do was let out a groan and close your eyes at this new development of what was turning out to be the worst morning of your life so far.

This was a bad choice, as a split second later, Rio barged into your bathroom.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Your neighbour teased, but you could hear the relief in her voice. She moved further into the room, assessing the damage. "Not to ruin such a perfect morning for you, but I might have broken your door getting in here." 

You open your eyes, blinking up at her. Taking her in, you noticed she was wearing a cropped baggy tank top and gym shorts. You blink up at her again, and your head throbs with each beat of your pulse, the pain radiating down your neck. You're still dazed, trying to process how you ended up sprawled on the cold bathroom floor with your FBI agent neighbour standing over you. Rio's sharp eyes take in your silence, concern clouding the playful smirk she'd worn just moments before.

"Hey," she says, voice softer now, as she crouches down beside you. She reaches out, fingertips gently brushing your cheek to turn your face towards her. "Y/N, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

You swallow, trying to focus. Her touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanour. You nod slightly, the movement making your head spin. "Rio," you manage to croak out. "Neighbour, FBI agent. And, apparently, a door kicker."

She huffs a laugh, a brief flicker of relief crossing her face. "Good. That's a start. I don't usually make a habit of barging into people's bathrooms uninvited, but I heard that scream, and... well, I'm glad I did." Her eyes drop down to your arm, where blood seeps from a jagged cut. She curses under her breath, her grip on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "You're bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up."

You glance down at your arm, wincing at the sight of blood trickling down to your hand. "I really know how to make an impression, huh?"

Rio shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tight line. "Let's save the jokes until you're not covered in glass, yeah?" Without another word, she slips an arm under your shoulders, helping you sit up. The world tilts slightly, but her hold on you is firm, steadying you as you get your bearings.

"You're going to have to trust me for a minute," she tells you softly. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe," you say, though you're not entirely sure. She helps you up, careful not to jostle your injured arm, and you try to ignore the heat of her skin against yours, the way her fingers dig into your side just enough to ground you.

Rio's eyes dart around the room, quickly assessing the mess of broken glass and water pooling on the floor. "Alright," she says decisively. "I'm taking you back to my place. We'll patch you up there. Your shower is out of commission, and I don't trust that you won't take another tumble if I leave you alone here."

You don't have the energy to argue, so you just nod, letting her guide you out of the bathroom. The two of you make it to the hallway, but not before she grabs a spare towel and wraps it around you more securely. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there's a gentleness to them that surprises you. It's a side of Rio you've never seen before—one that's patient and caring, not just the tough, sarcastic woman you've exchanged pleasantries with in passing.

As you step into her apartment, you notice it's much more personal than you'd imagined. There are framed photos on the walls—nothing too sentimental, mostly candid shots of places she's travelled to, city skylines, and sunsets. Her living room is cosy, with a worn leather couch and a small stack of books piled on the coffee table.

"Sit," she instructs, pointing to the couch. You sink down into it, feeling strangely out of place but oddly comfortable. Rio disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. She kneels in front of you, carefully prying your hand away from your arm.

"This is going to sting," she warns, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. You flinch as she cleans the cut, her brows knitting together in concentration. "Sorry," she mutters. "I'm used to dealing with criminals and suspects, not clumsy neighbours."

"Criminals don't trip in the shower much?" you quip, trying for humour despite the pain. It earns you a small smile from Rio, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Not usually, no. Though I'll admit you're far more entertaining." Her voice softens again, the smirk fading as she wraps a bandage around your arm. "You scared me for a second there, you know."

The confession catches you off guard. "I did? you ask, watching her face as she finishes tying off the bandage.

She doesn't look up, her focus still on your arm. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I thought something bad had happened. Guess I care more about my neighbour than I realised."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hanging in the air between you. It's the first real admission of anything beyond casual friendliness, and it leaves you breathless. You're about to say something—anything—but Rio stands up, offering her hand to you.

"Come on," she says. "Let's get you some proper clothes and maybe a coffee. You can stay here until we sort out your door and shower."

Rio's grip on your hand is firm as she helps you up, her expression still hovering somewhere between concern and her usual, dry amusement. You follow her into the kitchen, and she releases you, motioning for you to sit at the table. It feels strange being here, in her space, especially after the chaos of your morning. She pulls out a chair for you with a slight roll of her eyes, as if it's absurd that you'd even try to resist her instruction.

"I don't have any shifts for the next two days," she announces, moving towards the coffee maker without glancing back at you. "And considering you might've blacked out for a second back there, I'm not letting you out of my sight. So, you're staying with me, here, until you're back on your feet properly."

You open your mouth to argue, but the look she throws over her shoulder silences you. It's one part worry and two parts something else—something softer, almost protective.

"I can manage," you say, but your voice lacks conviction, especially as you rub your throbbing arm. The bandage is already starting to bleed through a bit. Rio's eyes narrow at the sight, and she steps closer, prodding your arm gently.

"Yeah, you're doing a great job," she says dryly, then nods to herself. "You're staying here."

"Fine," you sigh, though part of you feels a flutter of something—relief, maybe, or the thrill of being looked after by someone like Rio. "But I can sleep on the couch. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

Rio's lips twitch into a smirk. "I'm not letting you take the couch. You've already proven that you're a danger to yourself in any situation that involves standing up."

You can't help but laugh, despite everything. "So, what, we share your bed?"

She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to challenge her. "It's a queen size. I think we can manage. Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of co-sleeping?"

The thought of sharing a bed with her sends a rush of heat through you, but you try to play it off with a shrug. "As long as you don't hog the covers."

"I'll do my best," she says, the smirk widening.

-

The first night is awkward, as expected. You lie stiffly on one side of the bed, while Rio takes the other, the space between you feeling like a chasm despite the closeness. She's warm though, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body and the subtle scent of her shampoo filling your senses. It's both comforting and maddening, making it hard to fall asleep. You’re hyper-aware of every shift she makes, every time her arm brushes against yours. At some point, she turns onto her side, facing you, and you feel her eyes on you in the dark.

"You still awake?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you reply, swallowing hard.

There's a pause, then you feel her hand brush against yours. It's light, almost as if by accident, but when you don't pull away, she leaves it there, her fingers barely touching yours.

"Try to get some sleep," she murmurs. "You need to rest."

"Alright," you say, voice hoarse, and somehow, with her so close, you finally drift off.

Over the next day and a half, the tension between you shifts, It's subtle at first—small, lingering glances from Rio that last a bit too long, the brush of her fingers against your back when she helps you into the kitchen. Her sarcasm returns, but there's a flirtatious edge to it now, like she's testing the waters.

"You're really milking this injury, aren't you?" She teases, handing you your drink to have with the pizza she bought for dinner. "You'd think you broke your entire body, the way you're lounging around."

"Hey," you protest, setting the drink down. "You're the one who insisted I stay. Don't blame me for enjoying the hospitality."

She leans against the counter, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, I'm well aware. But don't get too comfortable with me waiting on you hand and foot—I've got to go back to work tomorrow.”

-

That night, the atmosphere between you shifts even more. When you climb into bed besides Rio, there's no hesitation this time. She turns towards you almost immediately, her hand resting lightly on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your shirt, her breath warm against the back of your neck. It's a small touch, nothing too bold, but it feels significant—an unspoken acknowledgement of everything simmering between you two. You fall asleep like that, closer than before, your fingers unconsciously brushing hers under the covers.

When you wake up, she's already dressed for the day, leaning over you with a mug of coffee in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand with a playful smile. "Morning sweetheart," she says, her voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, but there's a softness to it now. "Try not to do anything risky while I'm gone, yeah? I don't want to come back to find you've taken a tumble without me here to save the day."

You laugh, reaching for the coffee, but there's a flutter in your chest at the pet name, even if she means it jokingly. "I'll do my best," you say. "But no promises."

She smirks, leaning down just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'll be back later. Make yourself at home."

You do. The rest of the day passes in a strangely pleasant haze, and you find yourself enjoying the small comforts of her apartment. It's quiet without her, but there's a sense of ease you haven't felt in a long time, like you truly belong here. You find yourself smiling for no reason, touching the small trinkets on her shelves, running your fingers over the soft throw blankets she has draped across the couch.

By the time you decide to take a shower, you're feeling entirely too content. You strip down, stepping under the hot spray with a sigh. That's when your thoughts drift back to Rio—how she looked last night, half-asleep and tousled, her arm draped over your waist, her expression unguarded in a way you'd never seen before.

Your thoughts turn to fantasy almost unbidden. You imagine her joining you in the shower, pressing you back against the cold tiles, her hands sliding down your wet skin. You can almost feel it—the heat of her breath on your neck, the firmness of her body against yours. You start to move your hand towards your aching clit, letting out a quiet, shuddering moan, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to kiss her and have her hands on you.

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but suddenly, you hear her voice—low and amused. "You sure you're okay in here? Didn't have another fall, did you?"

You freeze, eyes snapping open. You can barely see her through the steam, but she's there, standing just outside the shower curtain, and you realise with a jolt that she must have heard you. You heart slams against your ribs as the curtain slides back just a little, and Rio steps inside completely naked, her smirk evident even through the haze.

"I really just can't trust you not to injure yourself while showering, can I?" she says, voice teasing but thick with something else—desire, maybe. Her eyes travel down your body, lingering in a way that sends a shiver through you.

"Rio," you breathe out, half a warning, half a plea.

She steps closer, crowding you against the wall, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. "You know," she murmurs, her lips so close to yours now that you can feel the brush of them with every word. "I think you've been waiting for me to do this."

And then she kisses you, slow and heated, like she's been thinking about this just as much as you have. Her mouth is soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you until you melt into her, hands tangling in her hair as you kiss her back just as eagerly. The steam from the shower mixes with the heat between you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours. "I knew it," she whispers, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You've been wanting this so badly, haven't you?"

You nod, swallowing thickly. "Yeah," you admit, barely louder than a whisper. "I have."

She grins, tugging you closer until you're pressed against her, chest to chest. "Good," she says, leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time. "Because I've been wanting it too."

And with that, she shoves you against the wall. Hard. She's kissing you all over, igniting the skin where each one lands. She nips and sucks at your neck, finding where you're most sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, and you buck your hips, trying to get any kind of friction against your core. For a brief moment, you start to get embarrassed, but then one of Rio's hands finds its way between your legs. She dips a finger between your lips and hums at how wet you already are for her.

Looking directly into your eyes, silently telling you to keep her gaze, she lowers herself to suck on one of your tits, tongue swirling around your nipple, making it harden quickly. The hand not on your clit, starts to pinch your other nipple, pulling another loud guttural moan from you. 

Working her mouth down your torso, marking up your body as she goes, Rio sinks to her knees, her face now directly opposite your dripping cunt, eyes still locked on yours.

Her hands deftly grip your hips, steadying you against the wall. "You've got to promise me you're not going to fall again, sweetheart," she all but growls, the arousal evident in her voice.

You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for the woman, who digs her nails into your skin where she's holding you. "Ye-Yes. I promise."

That is all Rio needs before she starts to drag her tongue through your folds. Switching between broad licks along the length between your entrance and your clit, and firmer, more purposeful circles over your bundle of nerves.

You feel dizzy, but you know it has nothing to do with your concussion and everything to do with the woman kneeling between your legs. Despite your head spinning, you manage to bring your hands down to tangle in Rio's hair, pushing her harder into you. You need more.

She moans against you, clearly enjoying how turned on you are. The vibration from the moan goes straight to your core, and you nearly cum just from that. Sensing you're close, Rio pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to curse her name inbetween moans.

You feel her chuckle and then start fucking you more vigorously. "I want to hear you, baby. I want the whole floor to hear you moan my name," she says, momentarily pulling away from your pussy. You can't help but oblige as she starts to curl her fingers, resuming her licking and sucking.

With her fingers curling inside you like that, it isn't long before you climax, legs shaking, cumminng hard over her fingers and tongue. Rio helps you through the end of your orgasm, making sure to hold you up as you come back down. 

"Okay, darling, I think we need to sit you down before you lose another fight with gravity," Rio smirks. You can't help but agree; your knees feel very weak and it's taking all of your concentration to stay upright.

"Oh, by the way, I bumped into the maintenance guys on my way in," Rio says lightly, helping you out of the shower. "And they said that your door isn't getting fixed for at least another week. So, it looks like you'll have me to help you shower for a little while longer." Winking, she drags you to her bed, determined to continue what she had just started.

_

alright folks, I've got a sequel in the works but can't decide on the vibes (there'll be smut regardless): READ PART 2 HERE

[gloomwitchwrites]

secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌

Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.

I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst

Word Count: 2.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.

He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.

Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.

It’s bloody fucking brilliant.

Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.

With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.

He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.

They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.

You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.

You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.

Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But he does. Because why not?

Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.

You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.

Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.

Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.

Your…son.

Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.

He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.

Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?

The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.

“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.

He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.

It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.

“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.

Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”

John Price

John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.

He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.

Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.

Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.

John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.

He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.

Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.

John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.

If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.

He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,

“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.

Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.

John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.

“You have the wrong number, bud.”

The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”

John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.

“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.

This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.

And each month is fucking agony.

When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.

But fuck it. He’s here.

Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.

John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.

The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.

“John,” you breathe.

He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.

“Is that—”

“Yours?”

Fuck.

John glances up into your eyes and swallows.

You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.

“It is,” you confirm.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.

But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.

He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.

Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.

But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.

Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.

In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.

It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.

You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.

You are fucking pregnant. With his child.

It’s growing in your belly.

Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.

It’s fucking painful watching you like this.

He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.

But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.

Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.

He has to play this right.

He has to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”

Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.

The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.

Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.

He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.

That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.

Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.

But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.

Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.

He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.

It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.

Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.

Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.

“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.

Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”

Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”

The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.

Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.

Is that?

No. Can’t be.

His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.

There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.

But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.

You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.

“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.

“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.

You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.

“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.

“Is that?”

“It fucking is.”

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

Johnny swallows. “Aye.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.

But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.

You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.

You’re staring right at Johnny.

And he’s staring back.

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[iuchamjohta]

SSC Part 2: Ariel's Domain Ft Yuna and Joy | Special Guest: Seulgi + RV

17561 words

Tags: Threesome, Exhibitionist, Anal, Strap-on, bi, rough sex, I don't even know just read it ahahha

Notes: Well, Cant believe I'm going to say the same thing again, but yes longest fic i've ever written, sorry this took awhile but hope you enjoy the amount of filth in this ahaha I personally enjoyed writing this. Cheers! Thanks @lockefanfic for letting me use some ideas of the queen of hearts concept!

==========

The next morning came quickly. You woke up to the soft hum of the ship’s engines, a gentle backdrop to the rhythmic but therapeutic waves crashing against the side of the ship. The sunlight streamed quickly in as you pulled open the curtains of your panoramic windows, causing a warm glow over your room. Stretching, you felt a lingering happiness from the previous day, the experience still felt rather surreal to you.

Gazing out at the vast expanse of the blue sea, you lost yourself for a moment in the beauty of it all. The horizon of the sea met with the sunrise which painted a beautiful landscape. After a few minutes of daydreaming, you reluctantly turned your attention to the holographic access card resting on the bedside table.

You picked up the card and with a gentle tap you activated it, and a brilliant holographic display flickered to life before you. The familiar interface materialised, glowing softly against the dim light of the cabin. The main screen showcased an array of exciting events scheduled for the day: “Dance performances”, “Blind Date events”, “Pool Parties”. One thing catches your eye when you see “Poker”. Each event was linked to various missions that promised not just fun, but also unique rewards. 

As you scrolled through the options, your heart raced at the sight of the poker tournament. You had always been a good player, and the thought of testing your skills against other participants was thrilling. You were sold. 

Then, your eyes landed on a new button: “AI Helper.” Curious, you clicked it. Instantly, a figure emerged from the hologram—a friendly, humanoid avatar with an ethereal glow. Its voice was soothing but bright and playful as it circled around you. 

“Good morning! I’m Ellinia, your interactive AI helper. How can I assist you today?” 

The holographic figure smiled, its features shifting to conveyed a sense of understanding and encouragement. 

“Tell me about today’s theme,”

Ellinia's smile widened. “Today’s theme is ‘Exploration, since it is everybody’s first day after the opening event”  The theme exploration gives bonus points for every new event you participate in and it encourages the uncovering hidden wonders aboard the ship. The more different areas you try, the more points you earn for your tiers!” 

May I recommend you to participate in the ‘Poker Tournament,’ where you’ll have the chance to test your skills against other players. Just like any other cruise, a casino is always needed.” Winners can earn exclusive rewards determined by the owner of the game!

Great you thought to yourself, it is as if Ellinia can read your mind.

There are also optional side quests that earn badges—such as the ‘Fingering expert-Make 5 girls squirt with just your fingers ’, ‘Best filmer - Earn the most likes in videos you upload for the day’ and the list is endless!” 

Damn, best filmer. A flood of questions filled your head. Is that why Jieun had given you the video? Was she secretly orchestrating this whole thing? You thought to yourself. 

Nonetheless you click on the screen and attach the video file you have compiled which links the video you had taken of the opening ceremony and your individual time you have spent with Jieun. You were shy about being naked on screen but to get your tier up as quickly as possible, this was the only way. 

The moment you hit “upload” on your video, a wave of exhilaration washed over you. You rewatched the video and noticed you had captured Jieun’s and Yuna’s (more so Jieun) stunning performance from the previous night, every moment carefully framed through your lens. Rewatching it you felt the same excitement rush through you but you had to contain yourself knowing it is going to be a long day ahead. 

As the upload progressed, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttered in your stomach. You knew the quality was good, but the real magic was in how the crowd would respond. You went to wash up while preparing for the day ahead. 

When you checked back afterwards, you were met with a flood of notifications—likes and comments streamed in, and your heart swelled with pride. Seeing your work resonate with so many people felt incredible; it was validation that you had created something special. The video quickly climbed the ranks, landing in the featured category, and with each notification, you felt a deep sense of joy and connection, knowing your passion had struck a chord in the hearts of viewers. 

With the surge of popularity came a tangible boost in your status aboard the ship. You glanced at your holographic card, where your progress was displayed: Adventurer Tier, 15% towards Trailblazer. It was thrilling to see how your skills can be helped to attain progression in the ranks. You couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities that lay ahead—what new missions and rewards awaited you if you reached the Trailblazer tier? 

As you pondered on that thought, you remembered what Jieun was teasing out yesterday – The ship was well known for its unique theme rooms. You remembered how, as an Adventurer, access to these rooms had just been unlocked for you. Intrigued, you decided to ask Ellinia for more details.

“Hey, Ellinia, can you explain the theme rooms and how they work?”

Ellinia’s holographic form shimmered, her expression brightening. “Of course! As an Adventurer, you have several options for theme rooms. They can be created in three ways:

Apply to an Existing Room: You can browse through available theme rooms and apply to join one. Your profile will be shown, and the room's host will accept whoever they choose. It’s a great way to connect with others who share similar fetish and fantasies. 

Create a Public Theme Room: You have the option to create a public theme room where anyone can walk in and join the experience. This is a perfect opportunity to have an open platform and relationship with anybody.

Create a Private Theme Room: If you prefer exclusivity, you can create a private theme room that’s accessible by invite only. This allows for more intimate gatherings and focused interactions with selected guests. There is however a limitation as an Adventurer in the size only being 5 or less people. Private events are only unlocked at the next tier

Alternatively, you could receive a private invitation to an existing theme room, where you can engage in unique activities and experiences curated by the host.”

As Ellinia explained, your excitement grew. The possibilities for social interaction seemed endless. Whether collaborating with others in a public room or hosting an exclusive gathering, you felt inspired to make the most of this new opportunity. Today, you could not only explore but you were definitely going to find a theme room suited to your fantasies. 

“Alright time for breakfast first” 

Feeling energized by the possibilities ahead, you shoved the holographic card into your pocket, making sure it was secure. Grabbing your camera, you slung it over your shoulder, the familiar weight a comforting reminder of your passion for capturing moments. You gathered a few other essentials before heading out of your cabin. 

As you made your way down the corridor, the lively sounds of the ship enveloped you. Laughter and chatter echoed off the walls, mingling with the soft strains of music drifting from nearby lounges. You could feel the excitement in the air, a palpable energy that promised adventure.

Arriving at the dining area, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods greeted you. The expansive room was filled with passengers already mingling, their voices blending into a cheerful hum. You spotted a few familiar faces from the previous day, some animatedly discussing their plans for the day’s missions. You settled at the corner table alone. As you sat at the corner table, savouring the last few bites of your breakfast, you felt someone staring at you. Just then, a vibrant figure caught your eye—Seulgi, with her warm smile and confident stride, approached your table. 

Seulgi had a captivating presence that turned heads wherever she went. Standing confidently, her toned midriff was on display, showcasing a set of impressive abs that hinted at her dedication to fitness. Her skin glowed with a healthy radiance, accentuating her natural beauty.

Her hair framed a face that was strikingly cute and pretty..High cheekbones complemented her bright eye smiles, which sparkled with a tinge of playfulness. She wore a fitted black crop that highlighted her athletic figure, paired with pink shorts that showcased her toned legs.

“Hey there! I just wanted to say, your video you uploaded last night was hot,” she said, leaning casually against the table, and you spotted a tinge of naughtiness in her eyes. “You really captured the excitement of the performance.”

You smiled, feeling a pleasant warmth wash over you. “Thanks! I had a blast making it. Jieun and Yuna were really incredible.” 

“Absolutely, you yourself were not bad at pleasing Jieun” She winked, causing you to blush.

“I saw you signed up for the poker tournament, I’m a bit more curious about your skills at the poker table. I hope you entertain me enough during the tournament and that your skills are as good as your tongue” 

You raised an eyebrow playfully, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, is that a challenge I hear? I promise I’ll keep it interesting.”

Seulgi laughed, a melodic sound that made you grin. “Good! I like a little excitement. Just remember, the stakes are higher than just chips today.”

“And the price”, she turns and sits on the table. 

“The price could be more than just points today” She seductively said as she traced a finger up her thighs to her ass, teasing you evidently.

You leaned in slightly, matching her playful tone. “I can handle a little risk. But what if I’m the one who ends up entertaining you in other ways?”

Her eyes sparkled with intrigue, and she bit her lip, clearly enjoying the banter. “Now that sounds tempting. Let’s see if you can back it up once the cards are on the table.”

The playful tension hung in the air between you.With a wink, Seulgi straightened up and said, “I’ll be rooting for you. Just remember, I’m not an easy opponent.”

As she walked away, you couldn’t help but stare at her cute ass swaying. A mix of excitement and anticipation swirling inside you. The poker match was shaping up to be more than just a game, and you were ready to play your cards right. And if you do play your cards right literally and figuratively, you might just be in for a treat. 

As the tournament atmosphere buzzed around you, the format was announced: it is heads up poker with participating players. The winner gets to face the host named…. “SEULGI” “Fuck that is what she means” The realization hits you like a wave—Seulgi was the owner of the game. A mix of excitement and surprise coursed through you.

You saw Seulgi emerge walking confidently at the front, explaining the rules with an alluring smile.Her outfit had now changed into a full on suit looking professional. 

 “Welcome, everyone! The winner of this best of 64 will get the chance to face me in a 1-1 match. And let’s just say, as the owner, I have some intriguing rewards in store for the victor.”

As she winked at the crowd, her confidence radiated, making it clear she was not just there to play but to dominate. “So, who’s ready to take me on?” she teased, her gaze scanning the eager faces, and you felt a jolt of determination.

With each passing moment, the stakes felt higher. You knew you had to bring your A-game, not only to win the tournament but to earn that coveted chance to face her directly. The thought of what that could mean made your pulse quicken.

“Looks like I’ll be facing you soon enough, Seulgi,” you murmured under your breath, the thrill of the challenge invigorating you. With a smirk, you prepared yourself for the match ahead, eager to see how this playful rivalry would unfold.

As the first hand was dealt, you felt a surge of determination. In heads-up play, every decision mattered. Your opponent was aggressive, frequently raising the pot. You took a measured approach, letting them take the lead while you observed their betting patterns.

In the early rounds, you focused on reading their body language and betting behavior. When they seemed overly confident, you capitalized on that, bluffing at strategic moments to push them out of the pot. Your instincts serve you well as you made value calls that caught them off guard, forcing them to rethink their strategy.

In a crucial moment, your opponent pushed all-in, clearly attempting to intimidate you. You glanced at your cards—nothing extraordinary, but the look in their eyes told you they were trying to bully you. With a steady resolve, you called their bluff. The cards were revealed, and your read proved accurate; they had overreached, and you took the pot.

You easily defeated player by player with your perfect reads. Part of photography was capturing people’s emotions and this had helped to also read the emotions of players. As the tournament continued, the intensity ramped up. You alternated your play style, mixing aggression with caution to keep each different opponent guessing. With each win, you gained confidence, forcing them to reconsider their moves. 

Finally, in the climactic showdown finally.. Your opponent, a well-known player, went all-in. You paused for a moment, weighing your options against their tendencies. With a sly grin, you decided to match their bet, confident in your hand.

When the final cards were revealed, you emerged victorious. The crowd erupted in cheers, but your focus was solely on Seulgi, who watched from the side, a playful smile gracing her lips.

“Looks like you’re up for a challenge now,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. You felt a rush of excitement; the real game was about to begin."Let's make this interesting," "The loser of each round has to remove an item of clothing, and we keep playing until someone is completely naked."

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dries. This is definitely not your typical poker night. You nod, trying to sound casual hoping this would not distract you. "Sounds like a deal. I'm game if you are."

The game begins, and with each flip of a card, the atmosphere thickens. Seulgi's skilled fingers gracefully deal the cards, her long, painted nails clicking against the table. You can't help but notice her slender, graceful hands, imagining how they might feel running along your skin.

Your first hand is a decent one, a pair of queens, and you smirk at Seulgi, feeling a surge of confidence as you bet a piece of clothing. She raises an eyebrow, her full lips curving into a sly smile. "Not bad, but I think I've got you beat."

She reveals her hand, straight, and you groan. As you reach for your shirt buttons, you catch a glimpse of her lips parting slightly, her eyes fixed on your hands.

"Go on, then," she urges, her voice husky. "Let's see what you've got under there." You unbutton your shirt, slowly, teasingly, revealing a toned chest. Seulgi's eyes widen slightly, her breath catching. She licks her lips, a deliberate, slow motion that sends a jolt of desire straight to your groin.

"Your turn," you manage to say, your voice hoarse.

Seulgi's hand is less impressive this time, and she pouts playfully, reaching for the tiny button on her pants As she stands to remove it, you can't help but admire her graceful movements. Her pants slid down her long legs, revealing sheer black stockings and a garter belt that made her ass look even more perfect. Your eyes travel up her thighs, past the curve of her hips, and settle on the thin lace of her panties.

"Feeling hot?" she teases, her eyes glinting with amusement.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. Your mind is spinning with images of what lies beneath her lingerie.

The game continues, and with each round, the layers of clothing between you and Seulgi diminish. You lose your pants, revealing boxer briefs that tent slightly, betraying your growing arousal. Seulgi's eyes flicker down, taking in your obvious desire, and she smiles, a slow, satisfied stretch of her lips.

"Looks like someone's enjoying the game," 

You feel exposed, but the heat in her gaze only fuels your desire. Seulgi's blazer and shirt is the next to go, revealing a black lace bra that barely contains her perky breasts. You swallow hard, your eyes tracing the curve of her cleavage, imagining the weight of her breasts in your hands.

The cards are dealt again, and this time, luck is on your side. You reveal a full house, grinning triumphantly at Seulgi, who looks momentarily stunned.

"Looks like I owe you," she says.

She reaches behind her back, unclasping her bra with a swift, practiced motion. Your breath catches as she lets the straps slide down her arms, revealing her breasts in all their glory. Her nipples are hard, standing erect against the pale skin, and you feel your dick twitch in response.

Seulgi's eyes never leave yours as she slowly folds her bra and places it on the table. "Your move," she whispers.

You're down to your underwear and your watch now, and you hesitate, knowing that your last layer of clothing will reveal your full arousal. But you can't back down, not with Seulgi's smoldering gaze daring you to continue. 

You lose another round. 

With a deep breath, you slide your boxer briefs down your thighs, feeling exposed and incredibly turned on. Seulgi's eyes widen, taking in your hard length, and a soft moan escapes her lips.

"You're... impressive," she breathes, her voice barely audible.

You sit there, naked and aroused, your eyes locked with hers. Seulgi's chest rises and falls rapidly, her nipples fully hardened. You want to reach out, to touch her, but you're both caught in this erotic game, unable to break the spell. You had one piece of accessory and one more loss would mean you are out of the game.

Seulgi was not far behind, she was down to her underwear and a tie that hangs loosely between her breasts.

The next round begins, and Seulgi's hand trembles slightly as she deals the cards. Her eyes never leave yours, and you can see the desire reflected in her dark pools. You're both breathing heavily now, the air charged with unspoken longing.

Seulgi's panties are the last barrier, and you can almost taste the victory as you reveal a royal flush. You grin, your eyes never leaving hers.

"Looks like I win," you say, your voice raspy.

Seulgi's lips part in a silent gasp. She slowly stands, her hands moving to the waistband of her panties. With deliberate slowness, she slides them down her thighs, revealing a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair and her glistening folds.

Both of you have one piece of clothing left. This one round would determine who is the winner. The intensity captivated all of the spectators in this intense heads up poker. The final hand was about to unfold.

You could feel the tension as the dealer dealt the first two hole cards: you glanced down at 2-7 of spades. “What the fuck, the worst hand possible?” You maintain your composure pretending it was good. 

Seulgi seemed to have read you perfectly. She raised the pre-flop. “Since we have no more clothing, let's take it up a notch, the loser have to eat the winner out right here.” 

You called her bet. To you it was actually a win-win situation. You lose, you get to taste a feast on her glistening pussy. If you win you get,  head from one of your favourite idols. Nonetheless you do not lose sight of the bigger goal, of actually winning this game. 

The dealer revealed the flop: A queen, ten, and a four. As if by a stroke of miracle, the whole board was spade gaining you a flush. You could tell Seulgi was sizing up her next move. “Let’s further up the stakes” She said as she pushed all of her lingerie to the middle, throwing in her laced thong as well. “Winner gets to keep the others clothes” 

“Fuck it, you were here to play” you thought to yourself.

You raised the stakes even higher “Winner gets to use the loser any way they want right here right now, on this table in front of everybody.” 

“Oh? I get to fuck your ass if I win? Anyway, right?” Seulgi chuckled. 

“What the fuck, im not into that” your face turned horrified at her confidence and your life flashed before your eyes as you might have made the mistake, nonetheless you could no longer take back the bet. 

“I’m all-in too then” she declared. 

The dealer turned over the two remaining cards, an 8 of hearts and a king of spade. “Fuck, that was the worst river card possible. If Seulgi just had any spade card higher than 7, she would make a higher flush losing you the game. The prospect of losing suddenly dawned on you like a nightmare. 

Taking a deep breath, you revealed your hand, showing your flush. Staring at her hand, sweat dripped down your forehead. “You got me beat, you win” Seulgi throws her hand into the deck without revealing them. 

The crowd erupted in cheers as the realization set in. Seulgi’s playful confidence turned to surprise. “Well played,” she admitted, her smile returning.

“Looks like I’m the one who gets to entertain you now,” you said, feeling a thrill of victory.

She's lost, and now she's at your mercy.

"Looks like I'm yours to do with as you please," She chuckled. Some part of you feels she had planned for this, but you shove the thought away , wanting to claim your price. 

 "And I have a special request, if you're willing."

Intrigued, you lean forward, your curiosity piqued. "Oh yeah? And what might that be?"

Seulgi bites her lower lip. "I want you to only fuck my ass. Right here, right now, on this table." 

Her boldness takes your breath away.

You can't resist the temptation, the thought of claiming her like that in front of an audience is exhilarating. "As you wish, queen" you reply

Her body was on full display and she was a true work of art, but despite her perfection it’s her tight, round ass that commands your attention. You stand, your cock throbbing against your pants and you approach the table. The green felt is now your stage, and Seulgi, your eager participant. You gently push her forward, positioning her hands on the table's edge, her back arched, offering her ass to you. She looks back at you over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as she feels your warm breath on her exposed skin. 

Your hand explored her curves, and your tongue traced a pathway down her spine to her ass, giving her shivers. Kneeling before her majestic ass now, you wasted no time spreading her cheeks with your strong hands, revealing the tight pink bud of her anus. 

Seulgi moaned softly as she felt your tongue trace circle around her sensitive hole, teasing her. Your tongue was warm and wet, leaving a trail of saliva as you licked and probed eagerly driving Seulgi wild with desire. You took your time, worshipping her asshole, dipping your tongue inside, gently at first, and then with increasing urgency. 

"Oh, fuck... yes!" Seulgi cried out, her hands gripping the edge of the table. The sensation of your tongue delving into her forbidden hole sent waves of pleasure through her body. She felt her pussy dripping, aching to be touched, but you seemed intent on focusing solely on her ass. You lapped away eagerly, tasting every inch, as far as your tongue could go off her ass, leaving a generous trail of saliva in and on her ass. 

You pulled away momentarily, leaving Seulgi gasping for breath.

“Your ass taste so fucking good, Seulgi. Come and wet this cock for your ass” 

Seulgi turned to face you and kneeled before you. With her eyes locked onto you and without saying a word, she took your full length into your hands giving it a few firm strokes.

Her touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Her fingers glide over the sensitive skin, making you twitch with anticipation. With a seductive smile, she leaned forward, her full lips parting to take you in. Her tongue darted out, teasing the tip of your cock, swirling around the head, and collecting the pre-cum that had already begun to leak. A soft moan escaped your lips as her warm, wet mouth enveloped you, taking you deep.

Seulgi was a fucking master of her craft and she showed it. She sucked you slowly, her lips forming a tight seal around your shaft, creating a sensation that made your toes curl. Her mouth was hot and wet, and you could feel her saliva coating your length as she worked her magic. With every movement, her long, dark hair fell across her face, framing her beautiful features.

She took her time, bobbing her head up and down, her lips sliding effortlessly along your length. Her hands moved to cup your balls, gently massaging them, adding to the overwhelming pleasure. She hummed as she sucked, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your entire body.. The blowjob was sloppy and wet, just the way you wanted it. She showed no restraint, letting her saliva drip down your shaft, mixing with your pre-cum, creating a messy, glistening spectacle.

"Fuck, you're incredible," you managed to gasp between breaths. Seulgi's eyes flickered up to meet yours. Her gaze looked incredibly naughty and her face looked so fuckable at this point. She responded by taking you even deeper, her nose brushing against your pubic hair, her throat constricting around your girth. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and you had to grab onto her hair, holding her in place as you thrust your hips forward, fucking her face roughly.

Seulgi's enthusiasm only grew as she gagged slightly, her eyes watering, but she never lost her focus. She loved the taste of you, the feel of your cock stretching her mouth, and the power she held over you pleasure. She intentionally moaned around your length, to increase the vibrations that intensified your arousal.

You watched in awe as she continued to suck and lick, her mouth working feverishly. She twirled her tongue around the sensitive underside of his shaft, finding every sweet spot, and driving you wild with desire. The room echoed with the wet, slurping sounds of her blowjob.

Seulgi's hands roamed freely, caressing your inner thighs, squeezing and kneading your flesh, and driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Her fingers traced the sensitive skin behind your balls, applying just the right amount of pressure, making you buck your hips involuntarily. 

“Get on the table” if you continued to let her mouth do the work, you were not going to last much longer. Seulgi released your cock with a loud pop, and licked her lips as if she had tasted something incredible. Your cock was at this point glistening with her saliva.

Seulgi positioned herself on all fours on top the poker table, her full curves on display. Getting behind her, you spat on her ass before pressing a finger against her tight hole, slowly pushing inside. 

“Relax, baby” "Let me in. I'm going to stretch you out and make you beg for my cock."

Seulgi obeyed, surrendering to the pleasure as your finger worked its way deeper, twisting and preparing her for the invasion of your thick shaft. You added a second finger, stretching her wider, scissoring your fingers to stretch her hole further. Your other hand reaches around to rub her clit to help her relax , driving her wild. 

"Please... I need you inside me," she begged, her voice hoarse.

You  withdrew his fingers, leaving Seulgi desperate for more before bringing them to Seulgi’s mouth. “Taste yourself slut” Seulgi eagerly sucked on your two fingers, cleaning them utterly. With your fingers still in her mouth, you lined your thick cock which throbbed against her slippery entrance. With one powerful thrust, you buried himself deep into her ass, eliciting a scream of pleasure from Seulgi. 

"Fuck! Your ass is so tight, Seulgi. It's gripping my cock like a vice," you grunted, pulling out almost completely before slamming back into her.

Seulgi's body shook with each brutal thrust, her ass accommodating his length with every stroke. She reached down, her fingers finding her throbbing clit, rubbing it frantically as her asshole was pounded relentlessly.

"Yes, that's it, touch yourself," you encouraged, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "Stroke that pretty little clit while I fuck your tight ass." Your index and middle finger were now holding the side of her mouth keeping them open, while you continued thrusting deeply into her tight ass, leaving her tongue hanging out of her mouth, a true display of a buttslut.

"Fuck me," she begs, her voice raw. "Fuck my ass like it's yours. Fuck me like you own this"

You oblige, slamming harder back into her, setting a relentless pace. The sound of your flesh slapping against hers fills the room, a primal rhythm that drives you both wild. Seulgi's moans and cries of pleasure echo through the casino, slowly submitting to your dominance over her ass. 

Reaching around, you grab her breasts, squeezing and kneading them as you continue to pound her from behind. Her nipples, hard as pebbles, are sensitive to your touch, and she arches her back, pushing her chest into your hands.

"Harder," she urges, her voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies colliding. "Fuck me harder, make me cum on your cock." You drive into her with all your might, your hips crashing against her ass , as you do your best to fill that bottomless well of her ass. Her anal wall was slowly becoming a mould for your cock , massaging your full shaft so well. 

The sight of cock disappearing in and out of this greedy and tight asshole was an added stimulant for you.  Seulgi's orgasm builds, her body tensing, her cries becoming more desperate. "I'm cumming!" she screams, her body convulsing around your cock. The sensation of her ass milking your shaft tightly. 

That did not stop you one bit. Her ass had become a playground for your cock, accommodating your every desire and length. 

"You like it rough, don't you, Seulgi?" you growled. "You want me to fuck this tight ass of yours until you can't walk straight?"

"Yes! Harder! Fuck me harder!" Seulgi screamed, her body on fire.

Reaching for her loose tie that was conveniently still hanging between her tits. You gave it a pull, it now serves a function as a makeshift leash to choke her as you pull her deeper into you.

With one hand on her hips, and the other pulling on the tie, your cock continued to pistoned in and out of her ass. Seulgi felt another orgasm building, this one more intense than the last. Her body trembled, her asshole clenching and unclenching around your shaft as she rode the wave of pleasure. 

Seulgi’s pussy was practically dripping with arousal at this point, adding to the slickness between her thighs.  The sensation of being filled so completely, so intimately, was overwhelming, and she couldn't help but beg for more. "Harder... please... fuck me harder..."

You thrusted forward with increasing urgency, each push eliciting a symphony of lewd sounds—the wet slapping of skin became louder with her juice splashing all around,  the squelching of your cock plunging in and out of her tight channel. Seulgi's hands clenched the edges of the table, her knuckles turning white as she braced herself for your powerful strokes. You grabbed her hips tighter, leaving red imprints on her milky skin, driving into her with a primal rhythm, determined to mark her as yours.

"You like that, don't you, you filthy slut?" you growled into her ear, your hot breath contrasting the cool air of the casino. "My cock feels so good in your tight ass, doesn't it?" 

“It feels too fucking good, its so big and I feel so fucking full, fuckk—” Her words are inaudible breaths now, too focused on the pleasure your cock is making her ass feel. You continued pulling harder on the tie to choke her while at the same time thrust deeper into her. 

With a growl, you suddenly withdrew, leaving her feeling empty and desperate for more. To be fair removing yourself out of her ass takes hercules strength, given how tight of a ring that ass was. But you had other plans. You pushed her shoulders down, guiding her into a prone position on the table, her ass still perched invitingly in the air. Without missing a beat, you positioned yourself behind her once more, this time aiming for an even deeper invasion.

"Oh gods..." Seulgi cried out as you entered her again, this time with more force and depth. You were determined to possess every inch of her, to explore the deepest recesses of her body. Your hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as you began to piston in and out.

"Yes... oh yes... fuck my ass... claim it..." Seulgi chanted, her voice a mixture of pleasure and pain as you stretched her to her limits. You reached around to undo her tie into one long string. Placing the middle portion over her mouth, you grabbed both ends of the tie with one hand. Pulling unto it, you lifted her head slightly off the table while the tie muffled her moans. 

With your other hand you gathered both her hands and placed them behind her back, locking the wrist together behind her back with your hand. This position left Seulgi with absolutely no control and balance. She was now a vessel for your pleasure, a hole for you to use, a tight one of course.  

You pressed your body weight unto her, with every thrust you would pull on the tie Seulgi was now biting down on, while pressing down on both of her wrist that is on her back,  which would arch her back further letting you bury your cock deeper into her. You continued this routine for a few moments as you stretched her ass like never before. 

Seulgi moans were now muffled by the tie but you could tell she was approaching another orgasm. You were not far behind. 

"Cum for me, you dirty girl," you commanded, your voice domineering. "Let me feel your ass milking my cock as you come."

Your words were like a trigger, sending Seulgi spiralling into a vortex of pleasure, her eyes rolling back as she orgasm hard. 

Her ass clenched and unclenched around your shaft, her pussy gushing as she climaxed, her juices flowing down her thighs. You felt her ass muscles pulsating, milking your cock as she rode out her orgasm, and it was too much for you to bear.

With a final, powerful thrust, you buried yourself to the hilt, holding her hips tightly as you emptied your load deep inside her, filling her ass with your hot cum. Seulgi's body shook with aftershocks as she continued to climax, her ass pulsating around your spasming cock, milking every last drop of your essence.

As your breathing slowed, you gently withdrew, savoring the sensation of her tight muscles caressing your sensitive cock. Seulgi collapsed onto the table, her body glistening with sweat and satisfaction. You couldn't help but admire the sight of her, knowing that you had just given her an unforgettable anal experience. "That was..." Seulgi began, her voice breathless.

"Incredible," you finished for her.

“‘I’m not done with you just give me 5 minutes” This was music to Seulgi’s ears. She was an insatiable slut and you were going to fill that bottomless well of hers, a paradox indeed. Seulgi called for a waiter to provide some water to the both of you.

As you look around you realise, that a huge crowd has gathered, you were so engrossed in fucking her ass that you did not notice this scene at all. Some were filming the pornographic display of sex between the both of you, some were touching themselves, some was just simply enjoying the performance. 

“Are you ready to go again?” Seulgi, now even more insatiable, wanted to take control, and you were more than willing to let her.As you laid down, she straddled you, her back facing your chest, her ass hovering just above your throbbing cock. Ride me, baby," you urged, your hands roaming over her smooth skin, fingers trailing her beautiful tailbone before landing on her perfect ass cheeks.

Lowering herself slowly in a reverse cowgirl position, her ass engulfed your cock inch by delicious inch. She sighed contentedly, her eyes closing momentarily as she savored the feeling of being filled by you once again. Her hips began to move in a slow, tortuous rhythm, each downward glide taking you deep into her ass, each upward lift a sweet torture as you almost slipped out. The cum is now an added lube, allowing you to slide easier into her.

You brought your hands back before connecting firmly with her plump ass cheeks, leaving a satisfying smack that echoed in the room. Seulgi gasped, her head falling back against your shoulder as she smiled wickedly.

"You like that, huh?" she purred, her voice sultry and teasing.

"I love it," you replied, delivering another sharp smack to her other cheek, watching it redden under your hand. "Your ass was made for this, for taking my cock and those spankings."

Seulgi began to ride you with increasing fervor, her ass cheeks jiggling with each bounce, providing a tantalizing visual as she worked herself up and down your shaft. You continued to spank her, the sound of your hand meeting her flesh filling the room, a soundtrack to the primal dance of your bodies.

"Oh yes... spank me harder..." Seulgi moaned, her words interspersed with little cries of pleasure. "Make my ass red... make it burn for you..."

You obliged, your hands raining down on her ass with increasing force, the sound and sensation driving you both wild. Seulgi's movements became more erratic, her ass squeezing and massaging your cock as she rode you closer to the brink. You could feel her ass tightening in coordination the moment your hand lands on her ass cheek. They were bright red at this point. 

“Slut, loving your ass getting spanked” The dirty talk only seemed to fuel her desire further as she rode you with increasing speed chasing her pleasure. You sat up, and reached around finding her clit and rubbing it in firm circles, pushing her over the edge. Seulgi's ass clenched around your cock again as she came, her juices squirting even more to create a slippery, slick sensation as she rode your cock in the throes of her orgasm. Seulgi's moans turned into cries of ecstasy as you continued to rub her clit. 

Adding now two fingers into her cunt, you thrust your fingers deep into her relentless, reaching as deep as you could. This added sensation only served to make Seulgi tighten her ass in pleasure even more, inducing a grunt from you. It was a truly wet mess, juices spurting everywhere as you work your fingers in her cunt. The squelching sound got increasingly louder as her cunt became wetter with every increasing moment.

“FUCK IM GONNA CUM AGAIN” 

Suddenly, as if a dam broke within her, a gush of force pushes your finger out and Seulgi shoots out a few burst of squirt. Her juice splashing the front seat audience wetting all of them. 

The crowd continued watching in awe as you pounded Seulgi's ass through her orgasm, her pussy still shooting spurts of liquid. Each stroke was met with a gasp from her and a collective murmur of appreciation from the onlookers.

“Let us put on a better show for your guest shall we, you whispered into her ears.” Without giving Seulgi any time to rest, you reached underneath her thighs and grabbed her thighs pulling them towards her head, exposing her completely to the crowd. Her pussy, glistening with arousal was now on full display, adding a new layer of eroticism to the scene. You locked your arms around her thighs and the back of her neck, holding her in a full Nelson position, ensuring she couldn't escape the pleasure you were about to unleash.

"You like that, baby?" you whispered in her ear, your hot breath contrasting with the cool air of the casino. "You like being on display for everyone, being fucked like the little slut you are?" 

Seulgi's only response was a nod, her eyes rolling back in her head as she surrendered herself to the overwhelming sensations. Her body trembled, and you knew she was close to the edge. You wanted to take her there, to push her over the precipice of pleasure and watch her fall into a cascade of orgasmic bliss.

You began to thrust upwards vigorously, Seulgi had zero grounding or anything to balance on so she leaned back and her body moved in synchronisation with your thrust. Your thrusts became more frenzied, your hips slamming against her ass with relentless force. 

Seulgi's moans turned into desperate cries, signaling her impending release. You could feel her asshole spasming around your cock, and that's when it happened—Seulgi's body convulsed, and she let out a scream of ecstasy as her pussy gushed and squirted again, spraying her juices across the table and again onto the captivated crowd. 

You see some of them opening your mouth to capture the juice. It was pure debauchery. 

“Fucking Exhibitionist slut” 

The spectators cheered, their voices blending with Seulgi's cries of pleasure. You continued to thrust upwards, riding out her orgasm. You sense your impending orgasm as well. Her anal walls were simply squeezing and massaging you too tight and well. Her ass was perfect. With all your might, you lifted your body off the table and thrust upwards as deep as you can, and with a grunt you orgasm hard, shooting your cum deep inside her ass. 

With that, you release the lock hold and fall back onto the table exhausted, Seulgi on top of you, her back on your chest. You hear the clicking of more cameras but you were too exhausted to bother. 

After a short break, you turn Seulgi to the side and finally pull her ass. Your cock glistening with a mixture of her ass juices and your cum. You see your cum slowly oozing out of her freshly gaped ass, staining the table. Her rosebud was now pulsing with how much you had stretched her to the limit.

“Quick left pocket of my blazer” You reached into the pocket and noticed an oval metal object. Pulling it out you realise it's a metal butt plug, with a pink jewel embedded at the base, immediately understanding her intentions. You positioned the plug at the entrance of her well-fucked asshole. With a gentle but firm push, you inserted the plug, filling her ass once more. "This will keep your cum in my ass for your baby” 

“Dirty slut, come and clean my cock, suck this dick clean off your ass juices.” Obediently, Seulgi turned her head towards your cock, which was still hard and throbbing from the intense anal session. She took you into her mouth, her warm, wet lips sliding down the length of your shaft, her tongue swirling around the head, collecting the remnants of her ass and your cum. As you withdrew from her mouth, Seulgi licked her lips, savoring the last traces of your essence. The crowd, still gathered around, erupted into applause, their cheers a fitting finale to the erotic display they had just witnessed.

You helped Seulgi off the table, her legs shaky from the intense orgasm. She leaned against you, her body still buzzing with pleasure. "That was incredible," she whispered, her breath hot against your neck. "I've never felt so exposed, so wanted, and so satisfied all at once."

“Let’s get out of here, we have garnered too much attention.” Grabbing all of your clothes you grabbed her hand to stabilise her, her legs still wobbly from the intense anal fuck you have just given her. 

You quickly walked through the corridors to your rooms until you both had to part ways to head to your own rooms. “I will catch you again soon,” Seulgi said before leaning in to leave a peck on your forehead. 

Your heart stumbles for a second, skipping a beat as something shifts in the air—it's like a sudden rush of energy, a spark that catches you off guard. Her lips brush your forehead softly, but the feeling lingers much longer, settling in your chest, a warmth that feels both comforting and a little overwhelming. You weren’t expecting it to affect you like this, but now you’re left with a racing heart as you watched her sexy ass sway with that buttplug perfectly lodged inside as she walked away from you.

Shaking your head you headed off to your own room as well. 

After washing up and crashing onto your bed, you tapped on your access card again. To your surprise you looked at your status bar which revealed Adventurer Tier, 60% towards Trailblazer. Alongside that was many missions you have cleared but more importantly the title “Poker champion” was now attached to your status. You suspected that was the main reason for the huge jump in progress.Playing with the holographic further you notice an achievement notification bar glowing. Clicking on it, it states: 

Hidden achievement unlocked. “Anal expert: Pleasure a woman using only her ass, equipment obtained : Vibrating Butt Plug” 

A package suddenly dropped into your personal mailbox in your room. Unwrapping it to discover it was a buttplay similar to the one Seulgi had used, just that it had an additional button that caused it to vibrate.. You guessed that while some general items were available upon order as mentioned by Jieun on day 1. Some other items had to be unlocked through hidden achievements.

You replayed the footage of the last hand that was now in the public server, wanting to reminisce about your victory. When suddenly you noticed something..

Seulgi had the Ace of spades all along. She had the nut flush, it was her hand to win. Why the fuck did she throw the game then? A torrent of questions flooded your head as if you were an idiot. It is obvious to anybody else why she threw the game. Seulgi just wanted to get fucked in the ass, it was as simple as that. But at that moment you could not understand and comprehend her rationale for doing so. 

Oh well, time to get some food, it was already 3.30pm and you had skipped lunch due to that intense session of poker and … well we know what happened.

As you sit in your usual corner of the cafeteria, the quiet hum of chatter and the clinking of trays seem distant compared to the thoughts swirling in your mind. You absentmindedly push your food around, your attention drifting. The kiss—Seulgi’s soft, unexpected kiss on your forehead—keeps replaying in your head. It’s strange. So simple, yet it’s left this strange, lingering feeling in your chest, like something unspoken, something new that you’re not sure how to handle. 

You do not understand the warm fuzzy feeling inside, was it more than just sex? I mean you had already taken her ass in front of a crowd , yet after that soft kiss, something within you changed. “How is she doing? Is she thinking about it too? Or was I just another sex toy for her? You can’t help ponder those idle thoughts.

Suddenly your access card started glowing again interrupting your thoughts. An email looking notifcaiton popped up. “Ellinia open message” 

Your AI helper popped up again and almost instantly you saw a simple message that made your pulse quicken.

"Invitation: Ariel’s Domain themed room"

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity immediately piquing. You hadn’t signed up for any themed room specifically, but there it was—an exclusive invitation, glowing softly against the holographic display. No sender. No hint at who had chosen you for this… mysterious experience. Nonetheless you remember that one of your goals today was to try out the theme room. 

“Ariel’s Domain…” you murmured to yourself, probably something related to water or mermaids, you guessed. It was the kind of temptation you couldn’t resist, especially with the ship’s promise of exploration. Something about the room called to you—an adventure waiting beneath the surface. 

The notification blinked again, urging you to take action.

With a deep breath, you tapped the screen to confirm your interest. A soft chime echoed in the air, and just like that, a new prompt appeared: "Follow the coordinates for the secret entry. Adventurer access required." 

A brief pause. The excitement built as the coordinates materialized on the map of the ship. It was located on another level, tucked away in a section you hadn’t ventured into yet. You didn’t know who had arranged this, but there was no turning back now.

Your heart raced as you finished your meal, gathering your things, and making your way toward the coordinates. The further you walked, the more isolated the corridors became. Along the way you could see through the cracks of the doors all sorts of scenario.

Man taking another woman roughly from behind. One woman had a luxurious silk scarf tied loosely around her wrist as she was ate out by another woman. Moans could be heard through the doors, some room had more than 10 people in it, in a fuckfest orgy. You could not help but wonder again how Seulgi was doing. Was she in one of those rooms picking up more guys to fuck again? 

“I hope she is fine” You whispered to yourselves as you continued your way through the corridors in search of the themed room. 

**Meanwhile in Seulgi’s room**

Seulgi had a mischievous smile on her face as she unlocked the door to her apartment, thoroughly satisfied by you . 

Little did she know, her naughty adventures were about to take an unexpected turn. 

As she pushed the door open, her eyes widened in shock at the sight that greeted her. 

Her three members, Irene, Wendy, and Yeri, stood in the living room, their eyes smoldering with a mixture of anger and jealousy. Each of them wore nothing but a sexy lingerie set, and prominently displayed on their hips were massive 6-inch strap-ons, glistening with lube and ready for action.

"Oh my god..." Seulgi's voice trailed off as she realized the reason for their unexpected visit. Her holes throbbed with the punishment she was about to receive.

Irene took a step forward, her strap-on swaying with her hips. "You've been a very bad girl, Seulgi. Cheating on us with a man. Was all of us not enough for you? 

Her eyes were dark and voice commanding, leaving no room for argument.

Seulgi's heart raced as she felt a rush of excitement mixed with nervousness . She knew her members were not ones to be crossed, and now she was at their mercy. 

The thought of being punished by these three beautiful women sent a shiver down her spine.

Wendy's voice, smooth as silk, added to the tension. "You've been craving something bigger and better, haven't you, Seulgi? We know you intentionally threw that last hand. You had the nut flush didn’t you? Yet you folded to him. Were you that desperate to get fucked in the ass you slut? Well, we're going to give it to you." 

She ran her hands along the length of her strap-on, making sure Seulgi got a good look at what was about to fill her up.

"Please, girls, I'm sorry," Seulgi pleaded . She knew resistance was futile, and deep down, she craved the punishment they were about to deliver.

Yeri, stepped forward, her strap-on pointing menacingly towards Seulgi. "No more talking, bitch. Get on your knees and start sucking."  Her voice was surprisingly assertive as the youngest but freakiest of them all.  Still, she was more commanding than usual which sent a thrill through Seulgi's body.

Seulgi did as she was told, dropping to her knees and taking Yeri's strap-on into her mouth. The rubbery cock filled her mouth, and she moaned around it, the taste of lube and the feel of the veiny shaft pushing her deeper into submission.

As Seulgi sucked on Yeri's strap-on, Irene and Wendy moved behind her, their hands roaming over her body, caressing her curves and driving her wild. Irene's fingers found Seulgi's clit, rubbing it in firm circles while Wendy teased and played with the buttplug still inside her , pulling it slightly to see her tight ring stretch around the plug just to shove it back in. A loud squelching sound from her cum filled ass was heard every time she pushed the plug it. Wendy continued teasing Seulgi’s well used ass playing with her body. 

"Oh fuck, yes!" Seulgi moaned around Yeri's cock, her body trembling. 

She felt so full already, and they hadn't even begun to fuck her yet.

Irene pulled Seulgi's hair gently, tilting her head back. "You like that, don't you, you little slut? You love being at our mercy." Irene's words were like a drug, pushing Seulgi further into the depths of her submission. 

Wendy added a finger to Seulgi's tight asshole along side the buttplug, stretching her, making her gasp around Yeri's strap-on. "We're going to fuck all your holes, Seulgi. Make you forget about him."

Yeri pulled her strap-on out of Seulgi's mouth, leaving her gasping for breath. "Now, bend over and show us how much you want it." She said leaning forward to land a hard spank on her ass. 

Seulgi eagerly complied, positioning herself on all fours, her ass in the air, presenting herself for their pleasure. Irene and Yeri wasted no time, each taking a position behind Seulgi's spread legs, Irene underneath and Yeri behind. 

Irene lined up her strap-on with Seulgi's dripping wet pussy, the head of the dildo nudging at her entrance. With one swift thrust, she buried herself deep inside Seulgi's tight cunt. Seulgi cried out, her body trembling as Irene began to pound her relentlessly.

At the same time, Yeri positioned her strap-on at Seulgi's sloppy asshole. Pulling out the buttplug, a wave of cum started oozing at. Before more could drop. Yeri pushed her way in, inch by inch, until she was balls-deep in Seulgi's tight rear entrance, fucking the cum deeper into her. Seulgi's moans turned into desperate cries as she was filled in both holes, her body stretched to the limit. Her moans were soon muffled as Yeri, the kinky youngest , pressed the soaked buttplug against Seulgi’s lip and wanted her to taste the mixture of your’s and Seulgi juice.

“Fuck unnie, your ass is still so tight even after he ravaged it” 

Seulgi could only produce a muffled moan. 

Wendy , not wanting to be left out , moved to Seulgi's head and grabbed her hair, pulling her head up presenting her strap-on to her lips.

Seulgi dropped the buttplug and eagerly took Wendy’s cock back into her mouth, sucking greedily as her girlfriends fucked her from both ends.

"Fuck, yes! Pound that pussy, Irene!" Yeri screamed as she felt Seulgi's ass tightening with every of Irene’s thrust making it harder for her to push the strap into her ass. 

Seulgi was overwhelmed  with pleasure. Irene's strap-on filled her so perfectly, hitting all the right spots as she’s forced to slam herself into Irene’s strap by Yeri’s ferocious pounding. 

Yeri was relentless in her assault on Seulgi's ass, pounding her mercilessly, making her feel deliciously full and used. Seulgi's body was on fire, her senses overwhelmed by the intense stimulation.

The three girlfriends worked in perfect harmony, fucking Seulgi with a rhythm that pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Seulgi's orgasm built slowly, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through her body.

Irene reached up, grabbing Seulgi's nipples, pinching and twisting them, sending sparks of pain-pleasure through her body. "You're going to come so hard for us, you dirty girl," she growled.

Seulgi's eyes rolled back as she felt the climax building, her body shaking uncontrollably. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." she stammered.

Wendy’s words were like a trigger. "Come for us, Seulgi! Let us feel your pussy and ass and mouth milk our cocks!"

Seulgi's body exploded in a cascade of ecstasy, her pussy clenching tightly around Irene's strap-on, her asshole gripping Yeri’s cock like a vice. She screamed into wendy’s strap-on, her throat vibrating around the rubber shaft as her orgasm consumed her.

The three women slowed their pace, allowing Seulgi to ride out her orgasm, their strap-ons still buried deep inside her. Seulgi's body trembled, her juices flowing freely as she came down from her intense climax.

"That's our good girl," Irene whispered, her breath hot on Seulgi's ear. "Now you know who can really satisfy you."

Seulgi collapsed onto the floor, her body spent but utterly satisfied. After getting her ass pounded by you, she didn’t even get a break before being so deliciously used. 

As she lay there, surrounded by her lovers, she realized that sometimes the best punishment is the one that brings the most pleasure. “Was he really that good Seulgi?” Wendy asked curiously. 

“Yea he hit all the right spots literally” Seulgi panted in her replies.

“Well we got to try him too then” Irene grinned her thoughts wandering off.

“HEY HE’s MINE” 

“Shut up Unnie don’t be a greedy slut” Yeri moved forward slapping her 7 inch Strap on on Seulgi’s face. “We are not done with you”

With a mischievous glint in their eyes, the three girlfriends helped Seulgi to her feet. "Now, let's see if we can make you come again, but this time, all together," Yeri said, leading Seulgi to the bedroom for another round of strap-on-fueled ecstasy. Seulgi knew this was going to be a long day for her. 

** Back to the present**

Eventually, you reached the entrance to Ariel’s Domain. The door was locked. 

You saw the notification on the electronic system of the door that states “access card needed” Tapping on it, the door slowly opened and a burst of mist escaped. 

Stepping inside, you see bubbles drifting lazily through the air. The room was large and expansive, with a circular pool at one corner of the room. The floor was made of soft, sandy textures that shifted underfoot as if you were walking along a beach at the edge of the sea.

In the centre of the room was a large rectangular empty space. You see a throne-like chair facing this space at the side, as though waiting for someone to take a seat.

Then you heard a seductive, siren sounding voice as if drawing you in. 

“Welcome to Ariel’s Domain” “Please take a seat, my king.”

Scooting over you sat on the comfortable chair. You noticed handcuffs with one end already locked on the armrest of the chair. “You can use those if it helps” the serenade voice repeated again. 

Before you could react, the floor beneath your feet rippled and then, a soft, surreal hum vibrated through the air. A low, almost musical sound that pulled at your senses. The rectangular empty space in front started to open , as more steam and bubbles popped up from there.

A platform started to emerge from the floor, the mist swirled around it, dissipating to reveal a large, plush bed at the center of the space. The bed looked as though it had been crafted from the finest silks, its deep red sheets glowing softly in the dim light. 

And then, your gaze shifted towards the star of the show, drawn to the figures perched delicately on the bed, as if waiting for you. Princess Joy and Princess Yuna, two beautiful redhead breathtakingly beautiful with striking, vibrant red hair cascading around their shoulders, framing their flawless faces. Their eyes were locked on you, but there was something playful—something teasing—in their gazes. They were loosely dressed in lingerie with 3 seashells covering their modesty.

Joy, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the bed, tilted her head slightly. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Welcome to Ariel's Domain," , her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable allure.

Yuna, reclining next to her, stretched lazily, her hand brushing through her red locks, giving you a  glance that sent a wave of heat through your chest. "We've been waiting," she whispered, her tone both teasing and inviting. “You have been deemed worthy, after that good dicking you gave… Seulgi” 

“Fuck” you whispered. Now you know the reason, that whole escapade was obviously live-streamed and now idols are going to want some of you too. You were not going to complain though,  it was a dream come through for you.

Suddenly a red notification pop-up of your holographic screen from your card. "Emergency Mission: Failure will get you kicked out of the room immediately’

Clicking onto it the words flickered “Mission: No touching yourself for 10 minutes:”

Now you understand what those handcuffs were for. You were not going to use them however, you were confident to pass this mission with flying colours. Or so you thought…. 

“Shall we begin Yuna” Joy turned to Yuna smiling

You quickly set up your camera on the tripod , wanting to capture the momment again.

The duo approached the chair where you sat. The tension in the room thickened as you gulped down audibly, the saliva on your throat, clenching your fist on the hands of the chair, determined to fulfil the mission. Your eyes was fixated on the woman's every move. Joy and Yuna stopped in front of the chair, their faces mere inches apart, and without hesitation, they locked lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues danced and twirled, exploring each other's mouths with an urgency. 

Breaking the kiss, the women began to caress each other's bodies, their hands roaming freely over each other’s skin. Yuna's fingers trailed down Joy's neck, tracing the curve of her collarbone before dipping lower to cup her full breasts. She squeezed gently, eliciting a soft moan from Joy, who arched her back in response, pushing her chest further into Yuna's skilled hands. Joy's hands were not idle either; she grasped Yuna's waist, her fingers digging into the soft flesh as she pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together in a heated embrace.

You feel your boner becoming harder, it was painful at this point as it strained hard against your pants. You clenched harder at the armrest to prevent you from failing this mission, looking further at the reward that you will gain from this. The handcuffs were tempting to use, as means to aid yourself should you fail in your self-control but your pride refused it, believing you are able to overcome this through whatever mentality you believed you had.

Meanwhile, the seashells' lingerie that was covering all their modesty has completely been stripped and tossed to the side.Joy’s hands continued roaming over Yuna’s thighs, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh before reaching her dripping wet crotch. 

“Oh, Unnie... right there," Yuna cries out, her head thrown back as Joy's fingers stroked her already soaked pussy lips. She bit her lip to stifle another moan as Joy's finger circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of pleasure through her body. The older one was taking the lead and it was evident through her skilled fingers. Yuna's hands tightened on Joy's waist, her nails digging into the soft flesh as she fought the urge to buck her hips and seek more friction.

Sensing the younger one's growing need, she pushed her down onto the floor in front of you, her mouth replacing her fingers at Yuna's center. She kissed and sucked on Yuna's sensitive bud, her tongue darting and flicking, driving Yuna wild. 

"Oh, fuck, yes!" 

Yuna's hands tangled in Joy's hair, guiding her face closer, urging her on as waves of pleasure washed over her. She cried out as Joy's talented mouth brought her closer and closer to the edge. She loved the feeling of Joy's warm tongue, brushing against every inch of her folds.

"You like that, baby?" Joy asked

Yuna managed a nod in response too lost in the pleasure. Just as Yuna was about to climax, Joy pulled away, leaving her breathless and wanting.

“Why did you stop unnie” 

She looked up at Joy with lust-filled eyes, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her orgasm. Joy smiled, without replying she lifted both her legs over Yuna’s head, positioning herself above her face. Yuna's eyes widened as she stared directly at her unnie’s throbbing pussy, wet with arousal and her mouth watered in anticipation. She figured Joy too was turned on from eating her out. 

“Unnie gets to cum first Yuna” 

Joy lowered herself onto Yuna’s waiting mouth. Eager to please and taste the delicious pussy, Yuna wrapped her arms around Joy’s thighs, pulling her close and diving into her pussy, her tongue tasting the sweet nectar. She lapped at Joy’s folds, savouring her sweet taste, her tongue delving deep into her hole.

“Oh, Yuna... yes.. Please your unnie like a good slut you are” . The dirty talk only seemed to spur the younger one on further. Her mouth and tongue became more eager to bring Joy to the brink of ecstasy. She sucked on Joy’s clit, drawing it into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, causing Joy to grind herself on Yuna’s face more , and her hips to buck uncontrollably. Joy was gripping Yuna’s tits at this point to balance in her attempt to stay upright as her eager junior ravaged her sensitive flesh. 

“More Yuna, make Unnie cum with that tongue of yours”

As Joy’s moan grows louder so does your self control. Your knuckles were white from clenching so hard on the armrest at this point, stopping the blood flow. The timer seemed to be going slower than usual. 5 mins remaining? What the fuck? is this rigged, how could 5 minutes only have passed. It sure as hell felt like 30 minutes to you. You started doing everything you can to maintain your composure. Shfiting around here and there. You were in an obvious paradox. To close your eyes would make it way easier in regaining some sense of composure, but to do that infront of these two sexy redheads in front of you, pleasuring each other is diabolical. Many would die to be in the position you were in.

Yuna has now proceeded to insert a finger into Joy’s tight hole, curling it upwards to seek out the magical spot deep within. With a few coordinated thrust of her fingers and her eager tongue, Joy’s resistance crumbles.

"YES! OH FUCK, YUNA!" With a loud cry, she came, her juice flooded and stained Yuna’s face and mouth. Yuna drank it all in like a good girl she is, revelling in the taste of her unnie’s essence, her own pussy throbbing in anticipation for her turn as well. 

“Time for unnie to return the favor” 

Joy knelt between Yuna's spread legs, gazing at her glistening pussy with desire. She leaned down, her breath hot against Yuna's sensitive skin, and blew gently, causing Yuna to shiver and moan.

Joy began to kiss and lick her way up Yuna's inner thighs, taking her time, savoring every inch of skin. She nipped and sucked at the soft flesh, leaving behind marks of passion as she went. Yuna squirmed beneath her, her body still sensitive from her orgasm denial, but she wanted more, craved the pleasure only Joy could provide.

“Please Unnie…”

As Joy's mouth neared Yuna's pussy , she paused, her hot breath teasing her swollen lips. She blew again gently, causing Yuna's hips to buck in pleasure, teasing her further. Then, with a swift motion, she dove in, her tongue plunging deep into Yuna's hole, fucking her with a relentless rhythm. Yuna's hands gripped the carpet, her back arching off the floor as she cried out, her body already responding to Joy's skilled touch.

Joy added another finger to her assault, stretching Yuna open as she scissored her fingers, to massage her inner walls. Yuna's juices flowed freely, coating Joy's hand as she worked her magic, her thumb circling Yuna's clit in perfect counterpoint to the thrusts of her fingers. Yuna's body trembled, her breath coming in short gasps, as she hovered on the brink of another powerful orgasm.

With a final, desperate cry, Yuna's body convulsed, her pussy clenching around Joy's fingers as she came hard, her juices squirting out in rhythmic pulses, soaking the carpet beneath her. Joy lapped at her, drinking in every drop, her own pussy throbbing in sympathy as she enjoyed the power she held over her junior's pleasure.

As Yuna lay panting, her body panting from the intense orgasm. Joy leaned down and kissed her softly, sharing the taste of their juices. 

2 minute remaining. At this point you were sure they were playing some kind of sick joke, it was not your delusion or desperation, but you were so damn sure, the timer was actually moving slower than normal. Either way, failing this mission would get you kicked out of the room which is the last thing you wanted, after having come this far. 

“Let us continue this on the bed Yuna”

As they swayed their sexy hips and moved away from you towards the central bed, Joy turned around giving you a teasing look before grabbing a mysterious looking bottle along the way.

"Let's make this night unforgettable, for our dear guest Yuna” Joy whispered in a seductive voice while taking another glance at you. Yuna nodded, her eyes locked on her unnie’s face. 

With skilled hands, Joy poured a generous amount of oil onto her palms, the liquid warming as it made contact with her skin. She rubbed her hands together, creating a slippery, fragrant lubricant. Joy's eyes followed Yuna's every move, her pussy throbbing excited at what was about to unfold. 

Starting at Yuna's shoulders, Joy began to massage the oil into her skin, her touch firm yet gentle. She worked her way down, gliding her hands over Yuna’s back, her touch sending shivers down her junior’s spine. As Joy's hands moved lower down to her ass she gave it another firm squeeze. Yuna let out a soft moan, her body responding to the sensual stimulation.

"Your hands feel so good, Unnie," Yuna moaned softly. Joy smiled, her fingers tracing circles on Yuna’s back, making her squirm from the sensitivity. “This is just the beginning” Joy whispered seductively, into Yuna’ ears. 

After awhile, seeing that Yuna’s back has been sufficiently oiled infront, she guided Yuna to lie down on her back on the bed.

Squeezing more lube, Joy rubbed the special looking lube all over her own body. Her hands glided down her own arms, down to her ample breasts , squeezing and kneading them gently as she spreaded the lube to cover every inch of her breasts.. Yuna’s mouth watered as she imagined her hands touching them and eager of what was about to happen. With deliberate slowness, Joy coated the remainder of her body with the slick lube, her hands gliding over her flat stomach and down to her trimmed well kept pubic mound. 

She teased her own pussy lips, sliding her fingers through the glistening folds, but stopping short of giving herself the pleasure she craved. Instead, she moved to straddle Yuna's thighs, positioning herself above her lover’s body. Then she began to rub her oil breasts over the front of Yuna’s body, her hard nipples grazing against the skin of Yuna’s body. At times, their nipples met which elicited more moans from the Maknae.

“Unnie your nipples feels so good on me” 

Joy smiled, however, her body was starting to feel heated as well, she needed to satisfy her own arousal, her pussy was dripping wet at this point. Throwing her legs over Yuna’s face once more, she lowered her pussy to Yuna’s waiting mouth. Yuna's tongue snaked out, licking Joy's slick folds, tasting her sweetness. Joy moaned, grinding her pussy against Yuna's mouth, feeling her clit throb as Yuna's tongue flicked and teased.

Wanting to give Yuna the same pleasure, Joy shifted her position, lowering her body to a sixty-nine position. She looked down seeing Yuna’s glistening pussy, already swollen and wet. Joy wasted no time, lowering her mouth to Yuna's pussy, sucking and licking her folds, driving Yuna wild with pleasure. She teased Yuna's clit with her tongue, circling it, then flicking it rapidly, making Yuna buck her hips and moan loudly.

Yuna's mouth and tongue worked feverishly on Joy's pussy, matching the intensity of her lover's movements. Joy's thighs quivered as Yuna's tongue delved deep, her mouth sucking on her clit. The sensations were overwhelming, and Joy could feel her orgasm building, her pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Fuck Unnie, you are so good at this” Yuna managed in between her moans, her face too was drenched in the sweet nectar of her senior. 

Joy's mouth continued to devour Yuna's pussy, tasting her juices, driving her closer to the edge. Pulling away for a moment Joy screamed “ I want you inside me right now!”

Yuna obliged immediately, running her fingers through Joy’s wet folds collecting all the slick lube and her natural juices, then she began to massage Joy’s clit making her squirm and moan. 

Joy's breath quickened as Yuna's fingers teased her sensitive bud, bringing her closer to the brink of orgasm. "Fuck me, Yuna, dont make your unnie wait”

Positioning herself at Joy’s entrance she slowly pushed her fingers inside once again, feeling the tight heat of Joy’s pussy enveloping her.

“You’re so tight, Unnie”

Yuna's fingers worked in and out, scissoring Joy's pussy, hitting all the right spots. The pleasure was overwhelming, causing Joy to eat Yuna more vigorously, her own fingers now pumping into her junior at the matching pace. Yuna added a third finger, stretching Joy open, her thumb seeking out Joy's hard clit, rubbing it in circular motions.

"Oh yes, right there," Joy gasped, her body trembling. Yuna's fingers were relentless, fucking her with a steady rhythm, bringing her closer to the brink of pleasure. Joy's pussy clenched around Yuna's fingers, her juices flowing freely as she neared her climax.

"I'm going to cum, Yuna,"

“Let us cum together Unnie” 

With that both of them began to increase their pace, fingers pounding into each other’s wetness as the squelching sound of their thrusting started to fill their room. 

“FUCKKKK” Both of them screamed as their orgasms exploded through their bodies and waves after waves of pleasures washed over them. Their pussy contracted around each other’s fingers, as their juices flowed freely soaked the sheets and each other's faces.

As they recovered from the orgasm, they leaned in for another passionate kiss. “That was amazing Yuna-shi” “Well, I’m not done with you yet Unnie” Yuna smirked. Joy was more than happy to let Yuna take the lead this time.

“5….4…3….2….1” After what felt like hours , the timer finally hit 0. Quest completed. 

Rewards attained:

1x Ariel’s liquid

Description: Ariel's mysterious liquid, rumoured to have unique properties. Said to boost sexual vitality and arousal by 50%. 

On the chair you were seated in, a small compartment popped up beside you, presenting you your reward. Damn now this all made sense as to why Yuna and Joy seemed so into it and crazy in heat. The lube was an additional aphrodisiac that helped with sexual arousal you were so going to try it. Then an additional notification popped up.

Hidden mission passed

Description: Pass the quest without the use of handcuffs.

Title accquired: Restrain King

Rewards attained:

2x Handcuffs

Almost immediately the two handcuffs on the arms of the chair snapped open, allowing you to keep them. You didn't have much use for them at this point as compared to Ariel’s liquid. Just as you stood up and were about to join them, a voice thundered across the room.

“Sit the fuck back down, we arent done here” You see Joy staring at you, in a certain manner that you recognise disobedience would not be allowed. Fuck not this again, after having endured that arduous torture, you were going to have to wait again. 

“You can touch yourself though” 

Upon hearing those words , you got rid of all your clothes in a matter of a few seconds. Curious about the liquid, you squeezed some of it and started stroking your hardened shaft. Finding some relief after a long period. Shortly after, you feel your body becoming more aroused, your cock throbbing with arousal, as you continued enjoying the show unfold infront of you. 

Yuna has now taken the lead, positioning herself above Joy, with their thighs intertwined with each other. Their pussies are now aligned, ready for more pleasure.  With slow, deliberate movements, she began to grind her pussy against Joy's, their clits rubbing together, creating a delicious friction. Joy moaned, wrapping her legs around Yuna's waist, pulling her closer, desperate for more contact. 

The sensations were overwhelming and both women were soon lost in a haze of pleasure. They could feel each other’s heat. Their bodies moved in perfect sync, their pussies becoming slicker with each thrust, their clits throbbing in unison. The lube only served to aid in sliding against each other. Joy's hands roamed over Yuna's body, squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, driving her deeper into pleasure. Yuna leaned forward capturing Joy’s luscious lips again as they grinded against each other while making out, exploring each other’s mouth. 

Yuna felt her orgasm building, an intense pressure in her core. She increased the pace, grinding harder, faster, feeling Joy's pussy grinding around her own, the friction sending them into overdrive.  Joy's fingers dug into Yuna's ass, groping them and holding her close as they scissor their pussies together, the pleasure pushing both of them to an intense orgasm. 

“That’s it, Yuna, faster please” Joy responded to the increased grinding by also bucking her hips to meet Yuna’s pussy. At this point their pussies were smeared with each other's juices, slick from the lube , it was a slippery mess as they were grinding and thrusting into each other with desperation. 

“Let us cum together again Unnie” Breaking the kiss for a moment, Yuna managed between moans before recapturing Joy’s lips. Almost as if they read each other's minds, both their fingers went to the other’s clit and gave it a slight pinch, causing both their bodies to shake violently in orgasm moaning into each other’s mouth. You see splurts of squirt came out spraying onto each other’s body, it was a hot sight to behold. They fall onto the bed, as Joy collapses onto Yuna , their bodies recovering from the violent orgasm. 

You were done with waiting and you were going to join them despite whatever else they say.. You had waited long enough and you were going to claim what you deserve. Positioning yourself behind the two girls, you push your hard throbbing cock between the gap formed between both of their pussies, feeling the warmth of their sensitive folds, massaging both sides of your shaft. “Oh God,” Joy moaned, surprised at the sudden contact on her sensitive folds, that was still throbbing from her intense orgasm. You continued to slide your thick shaft between the pussy sandwich, teasing their sensitive skin and clit but not entering any of them. 

“Fuck this feels incredible” you moaned.

Yuna nodded, her eyes closing as she savoured the sensation of your teasing motion.You were going to draw out their pleasure, not thrusting into them just as how you were denied of touching yourself, before eventually giving them what you knew they craved. After all, they did invite you exclusively to this room. With each stroke, you felt both their pussy lips part a little, their wetness coating your shaft, allowing for you to slide more with ease alongside the lube that you had generously used on your shaft. The feeling of the slick heat surrounding your cock with the increased arousal through the lube was almost too much to bear. 

"You like that, don't you?" Joy teased, turning her head to look back at you. "You like teasing us, making us squirm."

Yuna giggled "He's a tease, but we can be just as naughty."

“Please, fuck us, take us both” Joy begged, as lust slowly overtook her.

Yuna echoed her plea, her breath coming in short gasps. “Yes fuck our pussies. We need to feel you inside”

Unable to resist their seduction any longer.. With a growl, you thrust your hips forward, aiming at the older one’s wet snatch first, driving your cock deep into her wet , warm welcoming pussy. Joy cried out, ,as she felt the full length of your shaft filling her, stretching out so well. After a few thrust, you see Yuna using her feet to massage your cock when it comes out of Joy’s pussy and slowly guiding your cockhead to her own entrance. 

Wanting to give equal attention , you plunge into Yuna’s waiting pussy. The sensation was incredible—the contrast between their pussies, Yuna’s one being tighter but Joy’s felt more wet and warm , welcoming you with her experienced pussy, which drove you wild. You thrust harder, establishing a rhythm, fucking them both with long, powerful strokes, alternating between the both of them. 

Joy and Yuna cried out in unison, their bodies moving in sync with his thrusts. They reached for each other, their hands entwining as they surrendered to the pleasure coursing through them. Joy's fingers found Yuna's nipples, pinching and rolling them gently, while Yuna's hand travelled down her own body, her middle finger dipping into her own wetness before finding Joy's clit.

"Oh fuck, yes!" Joy cried, her body bucking against his thrusts. "Your cock feels so good inside me!"

Yuna moaned in agreement, her eyes rolling back in her head as she focused on the pleasure. "I love being fucked like this, feeling you in both of us."

Your breath was coming in short,sharp pants as you struggled to maintain control. 

The sight of these two beautiful women, their bodies glistening with sweat, their mouths open in ecstasy, was almost your undoing. You wanted to make them scream your name with pleasure, to hear their cries of release as they climaxed together. As you withdrew your cock from Yuna’s pussy this time, leaving her gasping for more, you were ready to plunge it again into Joy’s welcoming walls. But before you could, Yuna ever the freaky one had other ideas.

“Wait, Let us both suck you off first so that you can paint our faces.”

With that, she slid down the bed, until her face was level with your straining cock. Joy, understanding her juniors intention, mirrored her movement, their heads coming to rest on either side of your shaft.

You looked down, your eyes widening as your understood their intentions. 

“Oh fuck” you moaned, as your hands came to rest of both of their heads, threading through their hair. 

Without further prompting, Joy and Yuna opened their mouths, their tongues extending to lick at your swollen cockhead. They teased you, their mouths hot and wet, their tongues dancing around your sensitive flesh without actually taking you in, just as how you took your time before plunging into them previously.

"Mmm," Joy hummed, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the taste of you. "You taste so good."

Yuna nodded, her lips closing around the head of his cock, sucking gently. "We are going to please every inch of this delicious cock."

They began to work together, Yuna now took you deep into her mouth, her lips sliding down your shaft. Meanwhile Joy had moved under to focus on licking the base of your cock, that is not covered by Yuna. Your head fell back, as your breath quickened into short pants, trying to maintain whatever composure you have from the amazing double blowjob and pairs of lips on your shaft. 

As Yuna began to take the entirety of your cock into her mouth, her nose pressing agaisnt your pubic area, Joy moved to lapped eagerly at your balls. The sensation was incredible, beyond any types of description, their mouths were hot and wet and their tongues that was swirling and flicking on your cockhead and balls was pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

You felt their hands on your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh as they held you in place, ensuring you were unable to escape their skilled mouths.

‘Fuck, that feels too amazing” you groaned as your hands tightened around their hair.

“You’re are both so fucking good at this”

Joy and Yuna looked up to maintain eye contact with you while giving you the best blowjob you have ever received. Sensing your pleasure hitting its peak, they increased their effort. Joy had taken over Yuna this time, her head bobbing in a fast rhythm. Joy sucked hard as she withdrew her mouth, creating a tight seal around his cock, then released the pressure as she slid her lips back down his shaft. Meanwhile Yuna attempted to take both of your balls into your mouth, sucking them eagerly. 

"Oh god, I'm gonna cum," Your hips thrusting forward involuntarily from the intense pleasure you are receiving. 

Sensing your impending release, Joy and Yuna increased their pace, their mouths working feverishly to bring you to the edge. They wanted to taste your cum, to feel it explode all over their faces, to feel the warmth on their skin. 

“Paint our faces Daddy” 

“FUCK” 

The word Daddy sent a trigger, alongside the fact that you had been denied so long, from the mission. You exploded, shooting out a massive load, the first hot jet on Joy followed by Yuna. They moaned in satisfaction, their eyes closing as they continued to stroke your shaft through the orgasm, as the cum covered their faces.

Using their fingers, Yuna and Joy collected the cum on their faces before tasting it, savoring the taste of your release.

“Delicious, we will need more of this from you, but this time in our other mouth” 

Even though you were in the midst of your orgasm subsiding and your cock softening, you were stirred by the girl's words, your cock already showing signs of recovering to its former glory. You figured that Ariel’s liquid effect was actually working very well in increasing your sexual vitality and recovery period. 

Yuna and Joy moved to position themselves on fours, presenting their gorgeous asses. Their skin was glistening in sweat and lube which only made it more enticing and an invitation that was impossible to resist.

“Which one of us do you want to fuck first Daddy” Yuna teased again. As if compelled by an unseen force, you stepped forward to the younger of two, like a siren pulling in her prey. Yuna braced herself on her hands and knees, arching her back more to offer her already wet pussy that was glistening in the dim light. 

Gripping your rigid cock, you guided it to Yuna's entrance, feeling the heat radiating from her core. With a slow, deliberate thrust, you entered her, savoring again the tight grip of her pussy walls as they enveloped your shaft. She let out a soft gasp, as you began to move in and out of her, setting a steady, sensual rhythm.

“Oh yes, fuck me, fill me up Daddy”

Her words spurred you on, and you picked up the pace, your hips moving in a primal dance as you drove into her again and again. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mingling with Yuna's moans and the wet, erotic sounds of your bodies joining.

Joy, still on all fours beside Yuna, was not to be forgotten. As you continued to pound into Yuna's willing body, you reached out with your free hand, stroking Joy's soft, supple skin. You traced your fingers along her spine, eliciting a shiver from her, before sliding your hand down to cup her plump ass cheek.

"Mmm, I want you too," Joy said looking at you.

With your free hand, you found Joy's pussy, already wet and ready, and slipped a finger inside her. You began thrusting your fingers in the same pace that you were thrusting your length into Yuna eliciting a moan from the older one.

“Fuck that’s it’ Joy moaned, pushing against your finger. “Keep fucking us both”

You obliged, pumping your finger in and out of Joy's tight hole while continuing to thrust into Yuna's welcoming warmth. The sounds of their moans and the wet, slick noises of your fingers and cock working in and out of their pussies created a symphony of pleasure.

Yuna's body began to tremble, her muscles clenching around your cock as her orgasm built. Joy had now leaned forward to capture Yuna’s mouth in a deep kiss once again, her tongue exploring the mouth of the younger. Wanting more pleasure, Yuna moved her hands to clit and rubbed firm circles around it sending waves of pleasure through her body. You felt Yuna’s pussy began to contract tighter and tighter around your shaft before she finally broke. 

“I’m cumming!” Yuna cried out. 

You were not going to stop as you continued to pound deeply into her, driving her over the edge again and again as you sensed your own release building. You could feel Yuna’s pussy trying to push you out from overstimulation but you refused, thrusting faster into her, fucking her through her orgasm. This task proved to be too tough given how tight Yuna’s pussy was. Removing your fingers from joy and grabbing Yuna’s asscheeks. With a final, powerful thrust, you you emptied your load deep inside Yuna's pulsing pussy, filling her with your hot cum.

As Yuna's body shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm, you pulled out of her, your cock glistening with a mixture of her juices and your cum. Joy, ever eager, wasted no time in replacing your cock with her mouth, taking you deep into her throat as she sucked and licked, cleaning you thoroughly.

"Mmm, you taste so good," Joy purred, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes. "Now it's my turn to feel that big cock inside me." 

“Fuck give me 5 minutes please.” You collapsed on the bed after having two intense orgasms. Unexpectedly, Ariel’s liquid was shortening your recovery period again, faster than you expect and within 1-2 minutes you could feel cock hardening as Joy moved into position on fours and used her hands to spread her folds, presenting her glistening pussy.

You moved behind her, your cock already hardening at the sight as she shook her ass cheeks, and you were mesmerised at the ripples it formed.

“Naughty slut” You said as you gave one of her cheeks a loud spank, her pale skin turning into a shade of red. Resting your cock between her ass cheeks, you moved up and down enjoying the soft skin enveloping your cock. Before you could enter her, Yuna the freak surprised you both agian.

With a mischievous grin, Yuna crawled underneath Joy, positioning herself between Joy's legs. She looked up at you, her eyes bright before she turned her attention to Joy's swollen pussy. With a soft, wet sound, Yuna's tongue slid along Joy's slit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the older redhead.

"Oh fuck, Yuna!" Joy exclaimed, her hands gripping the sheets as she arched her back, offering herself to her friend's talented mouth.

Yuna's mouth worked its magic, her tongue flicking and probing, driving Joy wild with desire. As Yuna feasted on her pussy, Joy's eyes sought yours, a silent plea for more. You understood her unspoken request and moved to join them.

Guiding your cock to Joy's entrance, you slowly pushed into her, feeling her tight walls stretch to accommodate your thickness. Joy's eyes rolled back in her head as she moaned, her body accommodating your length as you filled her.

"Yes, fuck me," she panted, her hands reaching down to grasp Yuna's hair, urging her to continue her oral ministrations.

You began to move in a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of Joy's tight heat while Yuna's tongue worked in unison with you, licking and sucking at her clit. At times Yuna would move to plant her tongue on your shaft as it came out of her Unnie’s pussy, tasting both of your mixed juices at once. She was a true naughty slut. 

You would reward her by plunging deep into her mouth every here and there and alternate it with Joy’s pussy. The sensation of being inside Joy while watching Yuna pleasure the both of you with her tongue was almost too much to bear. You could feel every inch of your shaft was accounted for be it with Yuna’s tongue or Joy’s inviting walls.

As you fucked Joy, you leaned forward, your hands grasping her slender waist, pulling her back against your chest. With each forward thrust, you slid your cock deep into Joy's pussy, while Yuna's mouth and tongue worked on her clit, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" Joy cried out, her body trembling as her orgasm built. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

You showed no mercy, pounding into her harder, your balls slapping against Yuna's chin as she continued to lick and suck eagerly. After a few more thrust, Yuna bit down on Joy’s clit which sent her into another orgasm for the night. 

“FUCK I’m squirting’

You felt a gush of liquid push against your cock, pushing it out as she squirted all over the younger’s face. Yuna eagerly lapped up every single sweet nectar and continued to eat her unnie out through her orgasm.

Wanting your own release, you forced your cock back into her walls. WIth a few more powerful thrust, you felt your third orgasm building and buried yourself deep inside her. Joy responded by clenching her pussy around you, milking you as her body was still shaking with the force of her orgasm. 

“FUCK IM CUMMING TOO” Your cock began to twitch as you filled her with your hot, sticky cum, your final load for the day.

Breathless and spent, you withdrew from Joy's body, your cock glistening with her juices and your cum. Yuna, still underneath Joy, looked up at you with a satisfied smile, her face glistening with the evidence of her own pleasure.

"That was incredible," Joy breathed, reaching down to caress Yuna's cheek. "But I think we're not done yet, are we?"

As the three of you lay there, sweaty and satisfied, the possibilities for further pleasure seemed endless. After a few more rounds you were utterly spent and done for the day.

“You were indeed as good as what we saw in the videos” 

“Thank you....This was incredibly crazy"  

**10pm**

You’ve washed up and have returned to your own luxurious suite. Your body is sore, your mind still reeling from the events that had just occurred, leaving you slightly disoriented. The familiar surroundings offer little comfort as you collapse onto the bed. The events of day one feel like a strange dream—an unsettling, surreal blur. But now, it's day two , nothing much has changed it still feels unreal, getting to fuck all of this idols, it was indeed a dream come through. You glanced at your newly obtained equipment, maybe it was the effect of the Ariel’s liquid still lingering. Unsure what the handcuffs were for at this point you tug all into one of the wardrobe, alongside the vibrating buttplug you had previously obtained.

Your thoughts slowly wandered again to the soft kiss Seulgi had planted…. “ I wonder how she is doing”.

Just then a message notification popped up on your window. You swipe the screen, reading the words that make your heart skip a beat.

"Want to hang at the infinity pool? At the front of the deck?".

Your pulse quickens, you are unsure why but Seulgi’s message made your heart flutter, and with excitement, you hesitated no second and replied “See you in 5 minutes”

You grabbed whatever you needed and rushed to the infinity pool as quickly as possible.

As you reach the infinity pool, Seulgi was just stepping out of the pool, water dripping from her toned body, the water glistening off her skin. In her swimsuit, she looks effortlessly stunning—so confident, so captivating. Your heart races as you watch her approach, and for a moment you lose track of your surroundings.

She catches your gaze and flashes a smile.

"Hey, nice to see you again," she says with her sweet voice but you notice a slight limp in her step as she walks toward you. 

“Damn I sure did a number on you, to have your limping” 

Seulgi flushed about hearing that “It wasn't just you, my groupmates contributed” She subconsciously blurted. 

Your mind races, trying to process her words, but before you can ask anything further, Seulgi quickly cuts in, waving her hand dismissively.

“Wait what”

 "Shh, let's move on," she adds, her voice slightly embarrassed, her tone clearly wanting to change the subject.

"So... how was Joy? Was she a good fuck?" she asks, raising an eyebrow playfully.

The question catches you off guard, and your face flushes instantly. Damn, of course she knows. You had hoped the details of your evening with Joy and Yuna might stay under the radar for a while longer, but Seulgi would be the first few to find out. 

With a sheepish chuckle, you stammer, "Yeah, she... she’s great. Really... she left me spent.. Yuna contributed a ton too”

Seulgi’s expression changes, and her cheeks turn a shade pinker, but she hides it behind a sly smile, clearly trying not to laugh.

"Spent, huh?" she teases, her voice dripping with playful amusement. "Sounds like quite the evening. You’re not too tired to hang out with me, are you?"

“No, definitely not!!" you exclaim, perhaps a bit too loudly, as if to prove how not-tired you are. "I would love to hang out with you!" You quickly beat yourself up internally, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so... eager. Desperate, even. Great. Now she probably thinks you're too into this.

Seulgi chuckles softly, clearly amused by your flustered response.

"Relax," she says gently, her tone almost teasing but with a hint of reassurance. "I was just messing with you. It’s cool." She leans back, resting her arms on the edge of the pool.

"Seulgi... you won that last hand didnt you?"

"Oh did I? I must have missed it then, doesnt matter we both won and got what we wanted" Seulgi acted innocent. Sensing she did not want to be asked further you moved on.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Seulgi casually asks, "Do you like photography?"

It’s a question you didn’t expect, you nod feeling a sense of excitement, afterall it was your passion.

"That sounds amazing," she says, leaning in with genuine curiosity. "Teach me? I’ve always wanted to learn how to take better photos, and was thinking of opening up a exhibition” 

"Of course," you say, grabbing your camera from where it rests nearby, 

You both head over to a quiet spot with the best light—where the ocean meets the ship. You started being a total nerd, explaining the basics: shutter speed, aperture, ISO, and how to use angles to capture the world in new ways.

Seulgi listens intently, her eyes focused on your every move. As you demonstrate how to adjust the lens, your hands brush lightly against hers. You notice the way her fingers hesitate for a moment, almost as if she’s savoring the contact. Maybe it was just your imagination.

"Try this," you say softly, standing behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. You position her hands, your arms lightly brushing against hers, and guide the lens to focus on the horizon. "Focus on the angle—try to capture the moonlight reflecting on the water. The way it stretches across the sea. Get as close as you can without losing the perspective."

Seulgi holds the camera steady, her breath catching for a brief moment as the moonlight catches her profile. She’s beautiful, and the way she looks through the lens is mesmerizing. The world seems to slow as she clicks the shutter, capturing the moment, and you can’t help but feel the warmth between you two growing.

You step back, watching her as she looks down at the photo, a small smile forming on her lips.

"Wow," she says, her voice soft. "I didn’t think it would look like that. The angle really makes a difference." She looks up at you, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"You’re a natural," you reply with a grin, feeling a rush of pride for her, but also something more intimiate. 

Seulgi laugh cutely. As she steps closer to you, her breath barely a whisper away, she asks, "What about you? Do you have a favorite angle for a shot?"

You feel the connection between you two, the quiet tension that lingers in the way you both move, the way your eyes lock for just a second too long.

"I think…" you pause, feeling the weight of the moment, "The best angle is always the one that feels right at the time. The one that lets you see things in a new light. Like this moment, for example." You gesture between the two of you. She looks at you. 

She raises her camera again, but this time, it’s not the horizon, she attempts a selfie with the camera with the both of you in the frame.. "Let’s capture this moment," she says. You stand still, suddenly acutely aware of how close you are, the way her eyes linger on you. "I want to remember this."

The photo turned out surprisingly well, she was an idol afterall, you swear your face was redder from blushing. 

You and Seulgi now lie side by side on long, cushioned lounge chairs. The air is cool, the gentle sea breeze rustling through your hair. The sound of the waves is calming, like a lullaby from the ocean itself. You both have been talking and laughing for hours, it is almost midnight at this point. You simply lie there, gazing up at the vast night sky. It’s peaceful, almost surreal, the kind of quiet that allows you to just be in the moment, a good break from… well an pretty intense workout.

"This is nice," Seulgi murmurs

"Yeah, it really is,"

Seulgi shifted slightly on the chair turning her head towards you, before you can fully process it, she leans in and places a soft kiss on your forehead. Her lips are warm against your skin, and the tenderness of it makes your heart flutter in a way that takes your breath away again. You swear some love cupid had just shot an arrow at you. But just as you’re about to say something, your access card starts glowing and making sounds.

“GRR way to ruin the moment”

Pulling it out , you realise your progress bar has been filled to a 100%, probably from the completion of the missions from the theme room, you weren't the clearest on how progress all worked still.

Adventurer Tier, 100% towards Trailblazer.

It was strange that it did not automatically promote you to the next tier. Before you have further questions, another notification pops up on your holographic screen.

Rank up mission: Taming the Jins

Two more buttons appeared in the notification.

Accept

Accept

As if to play a prank that you had no choice but to accept this mission. You had a 1000 questions, you see Seulgi eyes widened slightly before wishing you good luck…

— Somewhere in the cruise—

Loud moans could be heard echoing the entire room. In the middle was a desk, a petite girl sitting in the middle, with another between her thighs eating her out. It was surrounded by many screens capturing the different sex scenes happening all around the cruise. The central one positioning in front of her was the one you were just in, Ariel’s domain room.

“Fuck yes, that’s the spot” Jieun loudly moaned from the pleasure she was receiving from the younger girl eating her out eagerly, as she rubbed herself watching all of the sex scenes unfold. Chaewon slowly emerged from under the desk, her mouth and chin glistening with the juices from Jieun’s latest orgasm. 

“How is his progression? Going well?” Chaewon asked cheekily.

“Yes, better than expected actually, I’m excited to see what he has to offer”... especially with his next task at hand…

(To be continued) 

===============

Hope you guys enjoy. If you are interested ,drop me a commission via pm!! If not reblogs comments and likes will be appreciated! Sorry this came out late, hope there's not much mistakes as I only did a quick proof read.

[bluublu-blub]

yan! ex husband (pt. 2)

was supposed to write something on Wednesday but i was still sick. i think i have the worst luck since june came but i am feeling a lot better now. i was almost sent to the hospital but it's a good thing, i wasn't. here is the update for you guys, sorry for the long wait.

He's crazy. 

You looked as he gripped on the divorce papers with so much ferocity that you had ever seen him. He's diligently and quickly reading the fine print as his hands shake from gripping on it. It feels as though you are watching a man descend to madness.

It made you step back away from him.

Then, the paper falls from his grip.

You took one step back further.

"I..." He started. "No... Why?" Now, he is staring at you like you had wronged him when he is the one who left you hanging for years!

"Just sign it." 

"No!" He looked at you with pleading eyes. "I can still fix this. What do I need to do? Do I need to earn more? Spend money on you? What should I do?"

You took a deep breath before looking at him with cold eyes. "Nothing."

"Nothing...?" He repeated softly.

"I don't need anything from you." You stated. "Just sign it."

"But... I..." He looked down at the paper, tears slowly filling up in his eyes. 

You gave him a little push as you bent down in front of him, giving him the pen and pushing the divorce papers in his face. "C'mon, sign this as a last token of your appreciation for me." 

Holding his shaking hand towards the paper, you gave him a smile as he stared at you through his tears. "I..."

"If you still have love left inside your heart, sign the paper."

That was the last time you ever saw him. As soon as he signed his signature, you dropped your smile and left him. Not before telling him your parting words.

"We shouldn't have wasted our time together." You didn't turn back to look at him. "Especially when you only think for yourself."

It's over.

He repeated those words in his mind again and again as he was left hanging at your shared apartment. The pen that he used to sign your divorce paper was left forgotten in the ground. He could only stare emotionless at the wall as he slowly processed what had happened to him.

It's over.

He had arrived at home from his residency. Early for change and excited to rest and spend time with you. He's eager to try your cooking after years of hospital food. 

It's over.

He could hear his own breathing.

He could still feel the tears in his face.

He could barely move.

He could remember your face for the last time.

It's over.

Time must've passed by, the window no longer emitted the light from the sun but he still remain on his place as he thought back on how could he fucked up.

He didn't cheat.

He didn't do anything wrong.

He is always there for you.

There's no reason for divorce.

It's over.

He doesn't know what day it is. But, he had managed to find strength to move and go to work because you wouldn't want a useless husband, right? 

This… this will pass. 

You will be back and everything will be okay.

It's not over yet.

He doesn't really remember what actually happened. He looked at the spot next to his side of the bed, wondering when you would be home. He shrugged, laying on his side as he hugged your pillow to make up for your lack of presence. 

(He also doesn't remember when was the last time you two had a date.)

(He also doesn't remember when it was your birthday and your anniversary.)

(He also doesn't remember what your job is.)

(He also doesn't remember your favorite music as of late.)

(He doesn't remember if you bought a new book and a new plushie.)

(He doesn't remember what your current comfort food.)

He went to sleep, not remembering a thing.

It hits him that you weren't coming back when he saw you at a cafe in a different part of the country. He was at a seminar when caught wind of you and almost called your name when he saw you with another person.

So, he watched you in the distance as he greedily tried to memorize your current appearance. 

Then, he remembered. 

Suddenly, he felt he was in your shared apartment again —on the floor, crying for you. 

He remembered that you weren't coming back to him. 

That's fine. 

He continued to observe you. The lease for your shared apartment is expiring soon, he had already bought a house for the both of you. It will not trouble him trying to talk sense to you. He won't be an absent husband —he changed, he will take care of you now. He learned his lessons.

It's time for you to go back to him, please.

He followed you when you parted ways with your little friend. He will take care of that guy later but he needs to take care of you first.

Lovingly.

He slowly and cautiously walked towards you. Appearing harmless to you with a smile and a wave.

“Hey,” he greeted you. 

He soaked up all of your attention as your eyes widened in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” You glared at him.

He put his arms up as if to show you he means no harm. “I have a seminar in this area.” 

You glared more.

“I was surprised to see you so I figured I could go and say my greetings to you.”

“Well you already did,” you snapped back at him. “Leave.”

“Let’s catch up first, darling.” He purred. “I have words to say to you.”

“Leave.”

“Don't be heartless.” He quipped. “It reminded me of the time you forced me to sign out divorce papers.”

You are always smart, aren't you? He chuckled as he watched your expression drop into nervousness while still staring at him with such intense eyes.

But, he knows you.

You wouldn't dare cause a scene in public.

“Fine. I am picking where we are going.”

He smiled even wider when you scoffed at him.

So cute.

He would not let you go now.

i wished i have managed to captured the essence of the descend to insanity and mc's personality. mc isn't a good person and neither is yan! ex for that matter but that makes them human in a way —and i wanna try and capture that feeling. in a way, mc was passive during their relationship together and yan! ex was too complacent that he could fucked up and mc would accept him either way. but, that's not how it works out for him and he's in denial for that. one could argue that they could've talk and communicate with each other —it will work out but mc needed to leave in order to grow. yan! ex just didn't get that nor does he want that.

[moonstruckme]

OMGGGGGGG

the first kiss was so cute!!! perfect!! james was so sweet and gentle w her😍😭😭

can’t wait to see there dynamic from now on

Thank you gorgeous! I held onto this so I'd have something to post this last part to, hope you don't mind <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

James is buzzing while he makes breakfast the next morning. Golden morning light pours in through the front windows, brightening the kitchen and warming his back where he stands in front of the stove, the buttery smell of pancake batter wafting up from the pan. He’d gone to bed later than usual last night and slept hard but woke jittery, desperate to do something about the commotion in his chest. 

A run hadn’t done it, nor had replaying the previous night in his head, and now he’s convinced he won’t be able to rest until he can kiss you again. It’s your fault, really. Your little sighs, your careful touches, the way you’d tugged at the roots of his hair when he asked you to, like all this time you’d only been waiting for permission. You’ve fucked him. James will never be able to get over it. Now, all he can think about is getting more. 

He’s made more pancakes than a family of five could eat when he hears the stair creak. 

“Good morning,” he says, turning around just as you pad into the kitchen, quiet as a ghost. 

Your eyes are bleary, but they still manage to widen slightly as you take him in, along with the precarious tower of pancakes beside him. You’re in that sweatshirt he loves so much, sleeves hanging limply from your hands and hem hitting just above your knees. 

“Morning,” you say, softer than soft. 

“How’d you sleep, lovely?” 

You shrug, not quite looking at him. “Fine. You?” 

James grins. “Beautifully. You want some pancakes?” 

Your gaze goes again to the stack beside him, and he can practically see the quip brewing in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Are you planning to feed an army?

“Sure,” you say in that same quiet voice. “Thanks.” 

James studies you, intrigued. “Great. C’mere, sweetheart.” 

He plates up a few pancakes, keeping one eye on you as he does. You seem disinclined to look even in his general direction, finding distractions with the stove, your plate, the weather outside. 

“How’s this?” He turns around with the plate. You take it cautiously, by the complete opposite end to avoid any possibility of making contact with his hand. James’ heart warms at the way your fingers just peek out from the sleeve of your sweatshirt to grasp the plate. He wants to kiss you until you don’t know what day it is. “Too many? Not enough?” 

“This is good.” 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let go of the plate. He tilts his head, trying to catch your eye, but you evade him. He has a hunch that if he were to touch your face (and god, does he want to) he’d find it burning hot. “Are you alright?” 

Your eyes flit up to his for a half a second before fleeing again. You hum, the sound tense and pitchy. “Mhm.” 

“You sure?” he asks, matching your soft tone. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.” 

You look like you stop breathing. 

And ordinarily James might feel bad, but post-kiss James cannot be prevailed upon to treat you as cautiously as he ordinarily might. Unfortunately for you, your secret’s out. You’re lovely, you’d said, voice soft and breathy and mere inches from his own mouth, I like having you around. I do. I really like you. Also unfortunately for you, post-kiss James knows things. 

He slips his palm alongside your face, working his hand behind your ear and letting his fingers burrow into the hair behind it. You melt, leaning into the touch. Your eyes meet his. 

It’s grueling work to keep from smiling. “What’s wrong, angel?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, still quietly but now with more of yourself in your voice. 

“Really? Because you’re acting like we’ve just met.” 

“Don’t you—don’t things feel different to you?” You seem almost distressed, eyebrows hooking upwards just slightly, pretty eyes imploring. Your voice softens again, now more with intimacy than reticence. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk with you about.” 

James lets his smile loose, thumbing at the skin behind your ear before letting you go. “We can talk about anything you want,” he says simply, grabbing his own plate and leading you into the living room. 

You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table but almost never use it, each preferring to eat your meals on the couch. He flops down, careful not to tip his pancakes onto the cushion as he crosses his legs underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. 

“So, have any fun dreams last night?”  

You smile. It’s as heart-stoppingly lovely as always, and James thinks his own probably doubles in magnitude in response. 

“A couple,” you admit. 

“Oh? What about?” 

Your smile goes sheepish, bottom lip slipping in between your teeth as if to impede its progress. You fork clinks against the plate as you start cutting up your pancake. 

James’ brain short-circuits. 

“You were in my dream,” he blurts. 

Your eyes flit up to his warily. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It was one of those weird, super vivid dreams where nothing really happens, you know?” You seem to relax a bit. James douses his pancakes in syrup, starting to cut them up as he talks. “We were here, and someone had spilled something on the rug—probably Sirius, to be honest—and it made this huge stain. I’d tried to pour baking soda on it, but the whole box had collapsed and it got everywhere. We were both sitting right there scrubbing with literal toothbrushes, and I think I was worried you’d be upset with me but you were just laughing.” His heart warms at the pseudo-memory, the hazy feeling of contentment that had permeated the dream. The sound of your laugh, exactly as sweet as in real life. “Your hands were totally covered in baking soda, and the rug was ruined, but we were both laughing our heads off.” 

You’re smiling again, a small, knowing thing. “Had you said something to make us laugh?” 

“No,” he says honestly, “I think it was you.” 

James is aware that he’s barely functioning. It’s almost too much to talk and cut his pancakes at the same time while you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. It makes it both a relief and a disappointment when you drop your gaze. 

“Do you think the stain might’ve been a premonition?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?” 

You laugh, and he’s instantly spellbound, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality. It takes him a second to realize you’re touching the edge of his plate, tipping it up. James looks down. It had been nearly falling off his lap, his pancakes cut up into tiny pieces and syrup pooled near the rim. 

You look up at him, seraphim with the morning light brightening your features and the hint of a smile playing on your lips. He thinks of how soft they’d felt on his the night before, the way they’d fallen open like welcoming him home. 

“You were almost spilling syrup onto the rug,” you say, that rare and beloved teasing lilt to your voice. “It would’ve taken more than baking soda to get that out.” 

“See?” he asks. “You know how to talk to me just fine.” 

You look surprised, then self-conscious, though not nearly as bad as when you’d come into the kitchen a few minutes ago. He covers your hand with his to keep you from going anywhere. Sets his plate on the coffee table. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes are wide. “Again?” 

“Yes, again,” James laughs. “And again after that, preferably. Only if it’s okay with you.” 

You shake your head, looking something akin to bewildered. “Yeah. Yeah, please.” 

He starts to lean toward you, and you meet him halfway. Already, it’s a bit different. There’s no tentative stillness, no slow yielding. Your lips are pliant and eager, parting and closing around his like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Your fingers wind in his hair without instruction, and James responds by placing his hand in that spot you’d seemed to like it so well last night, the material of your sweatshirt soft beneath his touch. You taste like his pancakes, the syrup sweet on your tongue. 

“Keep talking to me,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips worshipfully, “okay?” 

Your voice is breathless. “Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He tugs at you, wanting you closer. “And I think I’ve put in the work for you to warm up to me, if it’s all the same to you.” 

You make a tiny, amused sound. “Fine,” you say. You grow bolder, kissing your way up his cheek, the top of his eyebrow, until your nose is nestled in his hair and your lips are caressing his forehead. “Consider me warmed.” 

James grins, unable to help himself. He thinks that becoming your friend didn’t go quite as he planned, but he feels as though he won in the end.

[sailorrhansol]

Chat, is that Rizz? | j.ww (m)

Pairing: Streamer!Wonwoo x Streamer! F.reader 

❀ Summary: Your rivalry with Wonwoo has existed for as long as you’ve been streaming. It’s fun, and both of your communities love it. Wonwoo is happy to play along - at least until you question his rizz while live, and he feels like he should remind you just how much rizz he has.

❀ Word Count: 5,366

❀ Genre: Established Relationship, Faux Rivals 

❀ Type: Smut, a hint of fluff

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: This is so cheesy and stupid and I don’t care!! Explicit language, teasing and light antagonization, gamer and streamer speak in spots, sexually explicit content including spanking, fingering, unprotected sex, hint of overstimulation, playful banter and teasing during sex, bodily fluids, soft dom if you squint. UNEDITED.

❀ A/N: I don’t care that parts of this are kind of cringe, @daechwitatamic tells me to write so I write and I needed to  get out of a writing slump. Yes the game they are playing is Valorant. No I did not call it Valorant. Have I played Valorant in the last year? No! Anyway, please enjoy this shameless porn no plot! Also please don't arrest me for the fucking TERRIBLE puns.

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀

“You’re never going to hit Immortal with that strat, Wonwoo,” you tease, cringing as he gets gunned down by the enemy team’s Reyna. “Rotated too early.” 

“Here they go,” Seungcheol mutters into the mic, his exasperation making you grin as you fix your eyes on the screen. Like both you and Wonwoo, Seungcheol has already died in the round, watching as Mingyu navigates the map to pick up the bomb to attempt to save the round. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you while you were dead,” Wonwoo shoots back. You scrunch your nose, knowing that it is, unfortunately, true. “I was in the land of the living. You know. Because I didn’t dry peek long and die.” 

“Seungcheol told me to push site!”

“Maybe push with util, though? Or be better.”

On the right side of your screen, you can see your chat blowing up. You grin and roll your eyes - you aren’t actually bothered by Wonwoo and you know he isn’t mad either. Playing games with him always elicits teasing and a steady back and forth.

Once upon a time, his poking might bother you. Now, you’ve played enough games with Wonwoo over the last two years to know better. It’s all in good faith, and it’s part of the joke, this ongoing way the two of you bicker and go tit for tat. 

“I am nothing if not an accommodating teammate,” you offer back. Mingyu manages to get to the site, swinging wildly to check for enemies. “I’m a helper. I like to help people.”

“You can help me by shutting up,” Mingyu mutters. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echos, a smirk prominent in his voice. “Shut up.” 

“No I’m talking to you too,” Mingyu assures. “And you did rotate without me and too early. So she’s right.”

That shuts Wonwoo up, a chorus of laughter echoing in the headset as your team watches Mingyu try and go for the clutch. Your laughter fades and you mute yourself on Discord in an attempt not to distract Mingyu, eyes flicking over to the comments flooding in on your stream.

It’s a rewarding feeling to see how many there are, donation notifications popping up on the top of your screen making your heart stutter a little. You can see Seokmin moderating as usual in the chat, reminding people the commands for frequently asked questions and removing anything weird. 

There is a lot of weird. 

“Thank you for the dono, Shaezy98. Yes, PiCheolwinning, I hit Immortal a few days ago! What do you guys think about doing a nonstop stream until I hit Radiant? Would that be fun?” 

Resounding yes responses flood the comments. You grin, pulling your legs up into the chair to make small talk with the community you’ve so carefully built over the last few years. You see a suggestion in the comments that makes you laugh, leaning forward to unmute yourself in Discord. 

“Hey Wonwoo,” you ask. “My chat wants us to try 1v1 where we customize each other’s settings. Thoughts?” 

It’s a common question. People love the dynamic you and Wonwoo specifically have, enjoying seeing the friendly rivalry grow over the years. You can recall several streams you’ve done just playing together, hosting charity events and promoting new games as a dynamic duo. 

Some wonder if you’re together. There’s no hard evidence, but there's chemistry there. A lightness to your banter that comes with a familiarity your fans try to piece together, a gentleness that sounds the edges of your insults to make sure the other knows your kidding. 

Wonwoo lets out a deep hum. “You’re gonna go demon mode on my settings. Then I’d have to change them back.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he’s worried about his settings, as if he can’t export them. “Is that a no?”

“What’s in it for me? Besides my fucked up settings and the risk you change all my weapon skins.”

Clearing your throat, you put on your best telemarketer voice. “The benefits to this offer are endless. For a limited time only, you can take advantage  of quality time spent with me-” 

“Not a benefit.” 

You ignore his interruption, a vein in your forehead ticking at the comment. “You can protect your honor and pride as a gamer, and as a special early bird offer, I’ll give all donations from that stream to a charity of your choosing. Thoughts?” 

Mingyu ends up losing the round, earning a resounding sigh and curse from everyone on the team. You move your mouse around to click through weapons and set yourself up for the next round. “They’re going to force,” you say, momentarily distracted from your sales pitch by strategy. “Wonwoo I can buy you a marshall.”

“Yeah.” 

You make the transaction for him and drop the weapon so he can pick it up, noting the comments coming in from viewers.

NoLo88: See, she always does stuff for him - I swear they’re together!!!

EzBoyZ: No way would she date him.

NoLo88: Are you kidding? Have you seen Wonwoo? He’s like the hottest streamer ever.

LoLPog69: Ugh I hope they’re not dating, she’s better single. 

 “See, I’m fun. I’m nice. I’m a team player who helps win games. What do you say?” 

“Fine, it’s a date.” 

The way he so casually says it makes your stomach flip. You hesitate for a moment, blinking in surprise before you realize he’s said it without really thinking about it. Biting  your bottom lip to fight a smile, you ask, “Oh? A date? Chat, is that rizz?” 

“Oh fuck off,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to cover up his mistake. You can’t help it - your smile spreads as he rushes to gloss over what he said. “It’s a figure of speech.” 

“He’s trying to rizz me, chat!”

“In your dreams.”

“You should change your tag from WonuWizard to WonuRizzard.” Wonwoo curses as he gets killed. You cackle, killing an enemy and taking their gun. “Oo, an operator. Do you want this, Wonwoo? What about changing your tag to RizzardOfOz?” 

Wonwoo groans on the other end of the mic and you can imagine the way he pushes back in his chair, sinking a little further down as he spectates the match. “Yes, save the op for me, please. Also, get your chat out of mine. I’m going to get a Rizzstraining order.” 

You note the way he says for me when he asks for the weapon you’ve picked up to keep for him. It is a favor to him, intended for him. Your viewers notice. 

Seungcheol swears. “You two are insufferable to play with sometimes. We’re trying to win a game.” 

Mingyu huffs. “Just stop Rizzsponding, Cheol. They’ll shut up eventually.” 

With a laugh, you settle in and focus on the game. Even as the teasing dies down, you and Wonwoo fall into a comfortable give and take, working together to win the next few rounds and eventually, the entire match after Wonwoo closes out the game with an ace. 

“Wow.” You lean back in your chair, stretching. It’s getting late at night, and you feel a little tired. “Mad Rizzpect, Wonwoo. Up your rizz game and maybe I’ll go on a date with you.” 

“Up my rizz game?” His tone has shifted as everyone starts talking over one another, Seungcheol and Mingyu getting into it over something sports related. You’re focused on the soft purr of Wonwoo’s voice, though. The raspiness of it. “If I wanted to rizz you, I would.” 

Fuck. His voice. You shift a little in your seat, clicking around your secondary monitor that is off stream to pull up Wonwoo’s stream. It loads, immediately showing his dark room with slow pulsing RGB lights in the background and shelving displaying different collectible items. 

Wonwoo looks like he always does: leaned back casually in his seat, the glow of his computer reflecting in the lens of his black-frame glasses. Dark bangs hang in his eyes, the rest of his hair hidden by the hood that is pulled up over his head. He’s chewing on one of the strings of his hoodie as he talks to his chat, voice gentle.

His hoodie has a little animated version of him over the left side of the chest, the character winking and giving finger hearts. You feel your lips twitch - you always loved the little cartoon version of himself. As always, he looks totally at ease. It’s the same even in an intense game, Wonwoo never feeling the need to lean closer to the screen or showing the tension in his shoulders.

Calm. Cool. Collected.

Except when you can force a rise out of him, of course. 

A bunch of notifications flood in your chat. You look over to them, reading through them and grinning. You pull your mic toward you, shaking your head. “Ugh I have all the Wonwoo apologists in my chat defending your rizz.” 

“Good” he shoots back. You watch in delayed time as he smirks on his end. He so rarely does a full smile, but you know it’s beautiful when he does. “You need to take Rizzponsibility for implying I have no rizz.” 

“No way,” Mingyu gasps. “Two Wonwoo puns in a single night?”

“Puns and attempted rizz?” You ask, cocking your head. “Huge day for Wonwoo fans everywhere.” 

“Again, that wasn’t rizz. You’ll know it when I use it.”  

“Sure, sure. Or maybe you just… don’t have any.” 

You watch the tick in Wonwoo’s jaw. A grin spreads across your face and you try to suppress it, knee bouncing in anticipation as you watch the minute changes in his expression. He drums his fingers on the armrest of his gaming chair, hypnotizing you for a moment. He has long, elegant fingers paired with a beautiful set of hands. 

“You really think I have no rizz?” he asks, voice low and oh you know that voice. You suppress a shiver and shake your head ‘no’ before realizing that he can’t see you. Or he does - because he says, “Use your words like a big girl.” 

If you weren’t on stream, your eyes might roll back in your head at the soft purr of his voice, the way in which he immediately switches gears, put out by your accusations that you already know are false. 

And because you’re you, you push him a little more, interested to see where it goes.  “Are you watching my stream, Jeon Wonwoo?”

“Mhmm. Trying to learn rizz, since apparently I have none. Go on, show the class. What have you got?”

Seungcheol and Mingyu both ooo and quiet down, putting you on the spot. Heat tiptoes up your neck to your ears. Being a streamer by nature is being under the spotlight, especially when you have a high follower account. This is different though, the pressure suddenly flipped to you as your friends settle in, waiting. 

“It’s all about the charizzma,” you joke, voice a little raspy. You swallow, eyes flicking to your secondary monitor where you can see Wonwoo watching his screen with a growing grin. “I can’t teach you how to have that, Jeon.” 

“What can you teach me, Angel?” 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You know that commanding tone anywhere, the soft shift from teasing to something a little darker, a little sharper. He doesn’t care that you’re both on the screen for live viewers, that this will be recorded, or that you have friends on the call, who have taken a backseat to watch the fencing match. 

And the angel. Sure, it’s a small part of your brand and gamertag, but the way Wonwoo says it implies something intimate. Darker. A gentle caress of the word against your skin. 

When you come up with nothing, Wonwoo grins on screen, devastatingly handsome. He knows he’s surprised you. “Not a problem,” he quips. “I’m an excellent teacher. I can teach you how to rizzpond to a direct question.” 

He surprises you by ending the stream suddenly. You blink in surprise, both Seungcheol and Mingyu calling Wonwoo’s name, assuming his internet has gone out or has been interrupted. With shaking hands, you remove one side of your headphones, listening. Heavy footsteps sound in the hall and you squeak, hitting the hotkey to show be right back on your stream.

Wonwoo stands in the doorway. He gives you a single, lopsided smirk before waltzing toward you, a predator stalking prey. His dark eyes are focused on you, drinking you in. 

“Noooo,” you yell at him, giddy and panicked all at the same time. You hold your hands out to push him away but he links your fingers instead pressing his palms against yours and pulls you toward him. He jerks your computer chair toward him, your knees crashing against his. “Hiiiii.” 

“No rizz, huh?” his voice is barely a murmur. 

“Ummm,” you glance over to your set up where the be right back glows. Wonwoo follows your line of sight before dropping his gaze back to you, eyes asking a question. “Do you… want to?”

Elation falls across his face. “I’m down if you are. You know that.” 

Chewing your lip, you smile and nod. You’ve long been planning to reveal that the two of you have been dating for a long time, and the present feels right. Not to mention the implication of him ending the stream and you slamming the be right back on at the same time. 

Wonwoo leans down and grabs the arms of your computer chair, spinning it around and pushing you back into the frame. He leans over your shoulder, the smell of sandalwood and lavender enveloping you, making your head spin. He hits the hotkey to turn your stream and mic back on. 

Your eyes drop to where you’re displayed in the camera, Wonwoo leans against the back of your chair, chest pressed to your shoulder as he grins at the camera. Your thighs clench, seeing that same cocky smirk you’re used to making a brief appearance on camera. 

“Sorry chat,” Wonwoo announces. “Sorry Cheol, Mingyu. I have to handle the disrizzspect going on in my own home. Say byeeee to chat, Angel.” 

“Byeeee,” you squeak on instinct, watching as he waves while your comments explode. He closes out the stream and cuts off the Discord call where Seungcheol and Mingyu are screeching, shutting down your computer entirely so there’s no chance for accidents. 

Stomach fluttering, you take off your headphones and look up at Wonwoo to find he’s already staring down at you, dark eyes hungry. You slide down a little in your chair, feeling your mouth go dry. You got what you wanted, but now that he’s there and you can feel the intensity crackling between you, you can’t help but balk just a little.

“What?” he asks, lips twitching at the corner. “Rizz got your tongue?” 

“I guess maybe you have a little rizz.”

“Ohhh, I see.” Wonwoo pulls your seat backward, spinning your chair around so that you face the bed. He lets go of the chair and walks backward, sitting on the edge of your bed. You stare at him, heart beating, breath quickening. “Now that there’s no one here I have rizz.” 

You pout. “It’s our brand.”

“Mhmm.” He leans back on your bed, the mattress dimpling under his weight. He pats his thigh with one hand. “You just love getting under my skin, don’t you?”

You climb out of your computer chair, stumbling a little as the blood starts to flow from where they were crisscrossed. He tsks at you as you regain your footing, padding over to where he sits, legs spread, thighs straining against his athletic shorts. 

Carefully, you climb into his lap. Your body buzzes as you settle over him, one knee on either side of his hips. You lean your weight into him, hands resting on top of his shoulders. Even through his hoodie, you can feel how warm his skin is. 

“Are you happy now?” 

“Huh?” 

One of his hands leaves the bed and cracks against your ass, starling you. You squeak and lean forward, the sting making your eyelids flutter. “You’re not even listening, are you?” 

“I wasn’t.” 

His hand kneads your ass through your shorts, soothing the sting from the slap. “I asked, are you happy now? Did you get what you wanted?” You nodded, letting your head hang down, burying your face in his neck. It’s warm and safe there, your thoughts sticky as his hand continues to explore your ass. “Remember when I said use your words like a big girl?”

“Yes. Yes, I got what I wanted.”

“And what was it you wanted?”

When you hesitate to answer, too focused on your slamming heart and stuttered breathing, his hand comes down across your ass again. You curse, melting into him, letting him bear your weight entirely. “Wanted to rile you up.”

“It worked.”

“I can tell.” 

Wonwoo’s hand trails to the edge of your shorts, fingers dancing along your thighs. You’re hype aware of his touch and the way it sends fire through you, stomach in knots and cunt aching between your legs as he fingers the hem of your shorts. 

“Is it okay that I interrupted your stream?”

The question is so much softer than he was a second ago. You lift your head to look at him. His face swims into focus, a momentary flicker of nervousness. Wonwoo is rarely impulsive, but the move to announce your rivalry is more romantic than most people knew was unplanned and spur of the moment. 

“It’s definitely okay. Is it okay with you?”

He nods, leaning forward to run his nose up the side of your neck. He inhales, taking in your scent and humming while the hand running along your shorts pulls at the fabric. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be upset.”

“No. Now the people in your chat know you’re mine.”

“Yours?” His mouth brushes against the hollow of your throat, hot and wet. Your head tilts back, lips parting as his tongue flicks against your skin. “Just wanted to claim me, is that it?”

“Your fans are horny?”

He nips your neck and a moan drips from you. “Yours aren’t?” 

“Not like yours.” 

“Too bad for them. There’s only one angel who can get under my skin.” Wonwoo takes you by the waist and rolls you over. Your breath leaves you in a huff as your back hits the mattress. He leans over you, knees caging you in on either side of your hips as he presses his mouth to your jawline, sucking kisses up toward your ear. “Only one drawback - she thinks I have no rizz.” 

You bring your hands to the hem of his hoodie, desperate to feel him. Sliding your hands under the fabric, you press your palms against his stomach, feeling his muscle flex as his skin warms your hands. His mouth is wet against your skin, teeth nipping your earlobe teasingly, drawing a raspy sound from you. 

“I think,” you gasp as he drops a hand between your legs to press against your clothed cunt, “That she might be wrong about the rizz.”

Wonwoo’s fingers apply pressure, barely circling your clit through the fabric. It worsens the ache between your legs, your thoughts getting scattered as you squirm underneath him. He brings his mouth to yours, stealing a greedy kiss. 

This is the part of Wonwoo that you know only you see. Where the calm and collected gamer turns into an all consuming force, stealing the breath from your lungs as his tongue presses against yours. You kiss him back with equal want, whimpering into his mouth as he presses his fingers a little harder against you. 

“Please,” you breathe against his mouth between kisses. “I know I was mean but please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m sorry!”

“Are you, though?” He mouths down your neck to your collarbone, the sting of his teeth soothed by the rough pass of his tongue. “You got exactly what you wanted and more.” 

“I ammmm.”

His laughter is rough. The hand between your legs comes up to the top of your shorts, dipping past the waistline to sink downward. He groans when he feels the dampness of your underwear, the way he’s already worked you up. 

“No rizz,” he mutters to himself. You throb when you feel his fingers pull your underwear to the side, knuckles running up your wet folds where he stops at your clit to press down. Your nails scrap against his abs, body tensing under the stimulation. “This is a wet fucking fucking pussy for someone who has no rizz.” 

You can’t think of a response, mind reeling as Wonwoo plays with you properly. You writhe in his hands, melting as his fingers brush up and down your slit before coming back up to gently circle your clit. Your feet kick a little under him, unable to sit still as he works you - teases you. 

Fuck you realize he might do this all night. 

“You have a lot of rizz,” you breath, pressing the back of your head into the bed, gasping in surprise as he sinks a finger into your entrance. Already you’re clenching down on him, wanting more. “Fuck.” 

“I don’t know… maybe I just… lack what you need.”

“No,” you answer quickly. “Just… ugh like that.” 

The ease at which he knows how to touch you makes everything feel tenfold. Wonwoo knows you like the back of your hand, both intimately and mentally. What had started as two streamers annoying one another had turned into friendship at some point - you’d met him at a convention and realized he was far gentler and softer than you imagine. 

That had turned into something further - something deeper. The want when you were around him was something that you hadn’t expected, but it hasn’t gone away since. Even though you get to have him like this, finger stroking your inner walls and palm pressed against your clit, you always want more. Can’t stop wanting him. 

“Want,” you mutter, the only word you can think of. You feel the smile pressed against your skin, the wetness slicking his fingers as he presses in a second, stretching you. Your hips can’t off the bed but he pushes you back down, making you whine. 

“Why should I?” 

“Cause.”

“Not a good enough answer.” 

Wonwoo starts to retract his hand and you scramble, digging your nails into his hip to claw him back toward you. “Cause I love you.” 

“Closer…” 

“Cause I want you.”

“So close.”

“Cause I need you.” 

He hums in thought. “Good enough. Help me take these fucking shorts off.” 

Wonwoo pulls his hand out of your shorts and leans upward. You rip your hands from his hoodie to slide your shorts off, peeling your underwear down as you do. He taps you on the thigh, fingers sticky from your arousal as he shifts higher. You know what he’s asking, scooting backward on the mattress to give yourself more real estate.

His mouth comes back down to yours, lips soft. You love kissing him, tongue tangling as you bring your hands up to slide your fingers through his hair. He makes an appreciative sound, one hand supporting his weight as he hovers over you while the other slots back between your legs to resume where he left off.

Unrestricted by your shorts, he’s able to thrust his fingers properly. Your gasps break his kisses, hips rolling to meet the stroke of his fingers. He’s always been skilled with his hands, able to peel you apart, pressing the pads of his fingers into that sweet spot over and over again. 

His thumb presses against your clit, adding stimulation as he moves it from side to side slowly, aided by the wetness gathered there. You let yourself get lost in him, pressure tightening in your stomach as you climb toward an orgasm. 

Your hands are everywhere - pulling at his hair, pulling at his shoulders, pulling at his arms. He lets you grip at him, lets you squirm beneath his ministrations, letting you have free reign. It’s a favor to you, in a way. He’s letting you get away with your earlier teasing, not drawing it out like he’s known to do, not making you beg.

Moans bracket the wet sound his fingers make in your cunt as he works you to the edge. Your breaths come out in short hisses behind clenched teeth and your thighs squeeze his hand. He’s unfettered, laughing roughly against your ear, breath hot.

“What would your chat say?” he asks. “Huh? What would they say if they knew you fell apart like this? That your cunt melts around my fingers.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, so close to your orgasm that your ears are starting to buzz. 

“All this time they thought we were frenemies. Have no idea I get to have you like this whenever I want.”

“I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, you’re gonna.” His fingers press harder, the pressure mounting further. “Gonna come all over my fingers, yeah? Just like you always do?” 

You do. 

Everything comes together in one, cohesive snap. You arch into him, muscles squeezing, teeth clenched, eyes shut. It feels good when you unravel, coming around his fingers as they fuck you through it, determind to extend your high for as long as he can. 

Your breathing is ragged by the time you start to come down, shirt sticking to your skin and neck and face flushed as you try to escape him. He laughs a little, hand slowing until his fingers are still inside you, pressed deep. 

When you open your eyes, the room is spinning. It takes you a second to focus on him. His head is hanging, gaze focused where his fingers are still shoved in your pussy. You can see your arousal shining on his wrist and feel where you drip down the curve of your ass. 

“A lot of cum for someone with no rizz,” he notes, lifting his head to grin at you. 

“Oh shut up.” 

“Oh?”

He retracts his hand and you make a pitiful sound at the loss. He stands up, suddenly leaving you cold and shivering. He brings his fingers to his mouth absently, popping them between rosy lips as he sucks your fluid off easily, making an appreciative sound. 

“I mean if you want me to leave-”

“No, no! No need for that.” He smirks. “You’re already… here and stuff.”

“And stuff.” 

Rolling his eyes, he peels the hoodie up and over his head. You watch, suddenly entranced by the blue tint on his tan skin and the way his muscles flex when he leans to kick off his sweats. Wonwoo is beautiful, his body made up of equal parts streamlined edges and softness. 

Sleeper build, you’d joke the first time you saw him shirtless. On stream, he’s always hidden in baggy shirts and hoodies. You’d never realized he was hiding a body that was at peak athletic form, oversized clothing giving way to rippling arms and a hard chest. 

Naked, he shuffles back to the bed. You let him pull you out of your top, thankful for the warmth of his hands skating over your chilled skin. Your nipples tighten in the cool air, your toes curling at the sensation as you lay back on the bed and look up at him.

Haloed by blue light, Wonwoo looks like some sort of demon or angel. You’re not sure - perhaps he’s equal parts. His hands reach behind your thighs and lift, pressing your legs upward toward your chest. The stretch feels good but it also pries you open, making you writhe when you feel the weight of his cock on your pussy. 

“Hold yourself open for me,” he murmurs gently. Your hands reach behind the back of your knees, pulling. He gives you a lopsided grin, leaning over you to press his weight into the backs of your thighs, helping. “Stay just like that, fuck.” 

You do as he says. You have no other choice, especially when he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, sinking in slowly. You let out a loan moan shaped in his name as he presses in, the fit tight and the pressure delirious. 

Wonwoo bottoms out, holding himself to you, hips to ass for a second. He presses in all of his weight, the mattress creaking under you as he does. He drops his chin to his chest, curses as he takes a few deep breaths, chest heaving. 

You fuck him up too. You know it and you love it, watching as he looks up at you, eyes glazed over with lust, but still full of love. It simmers right at the surface, so obvious that you wonder how anyone could ever not see it when it’s right there.

Slowly, he starts to move. You suck in a breath, head falling to the side. Your fingers ache where you grip your thighs, knuckles shaking. A light sheen of sweat wicks your legs, making your hold slip a little. It’s okay, though. Wonwoo leans into you, keeping you pried open as his hips fuck into you at a steady pace. 

Each thrust feels like it punches the air from your lungs. You draw in deep breaths when you remember, otherwise distracted with the way he crowds you in, crushing you to the mattress. The feeling of him is insane, your thoughts cobwebbing together, the only word you can think of being his name. 

He pants, his arms scooping around your shoulders to pull you into him. A curse leaves your mouth. He’s got you folded in half, no escape from the drill of his hips, the air turning to static between you. Wonwoo is pressed close and you somehow wish you were closer, wanting to drop the grip on your thighs to hold him instead.

Wonwoo reads you like a book. “Go ahead,” he hisses between thrusts. 

“Thank you,” you gasp, dropping your legs in favor of sliding your hands through his sweaty hair, nails scratching his scalp. You feel him shiver and you do it again, pulling his face to you so that you can brush your mouth against his, barely a kiss. “Fuuuuuuck, Wonwoo I-”

“I know.” 

“Close close close.”

He doesn’t pick up his pace but he throws his weight into you more, fucking you deep and hard. You see stars, squeezing your eyes shut as you slide against one another, muscles aching, lungs screaming. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t care, skating the line of your second orgasm so close.

Your heart pounds in your ears. Your breath scrapes your throat. There is a moment of absolute nothing but white noise and then you’re crashing, slamming into your orgasm with enough force to knock your head with his when you lurch forward.

It doesn’t even hurt, the electric pleasure outweighing the knock to your head as his fingers dig into your shoulders, cradling you harder as he pistons faster, getting himself to peak. You go limp, held tilted back as he growls your name and loses a rhythm, breath hissing between his teeth. 

For a moment everything is disjointed until he slows to a stop, letting you unfold but pressing his body down onto yours. His weight is comforting, grounding you as your thoughts wander, a little confused and without navigation as your system reboots from the orgasm, tired and staticky. 

Wonwoo kisses your jaw lightly, a gentle contrast to seconds ago when he folded you in half. 

Slowly, he slides to the side, giving you room to breathe. Your body is slick all over - especially between your legs - and the room cools your over-warm skin. You crane your neck to face him, eyes fluttering open as you come back to, a little more lucid. 

His dark eyes find yours and he grins before tossing an arm over your waist just to keep you connected. You place your hand on his arm, returning the gesture, just wanting to touch him. 

“I think I died,” you joke, voice rough. “God.” 

“Yeah? Hey chat,” Wonwoo hums, a grin splitting his face. “How about that for rizz?” 

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