#rare 2023 post from v

[xxknoxvixenxx]

pontius & knox (2023) 🥺💋

[soobibabe]

espresso kim mingyu

rewite of one of my most popular oneshots, espresso! pairings: kim mingyu + reader trope: friends to lovers genre ▸ romantic comedy (including smut) wc: warnings: 'unprotected' sex (she's on the pill tho) , oral [m + f receiving], fingering, choking, lots of praise and pet names, creampie, v. squirting. lmk if I miss any.

[ august 2nd 2023 ]

It’s been so long since you last saw the friend group that just walking in makes you jittery. You've known these guys since high school, all thanks to Mingyu, but university life has kept you too busy to catch up.

You do see Mingyu the most, given that you both attend SNU together, but the rest of the gang has been a rare sight.

When you finally step through the door, your nerves quickly dissolve. The room erupts in cheers as soon as you're spotted, with Soonyoung’s voice ringing out in delight.

“Come hereeee! You’re all grown up now!” His eyes light up as he watches you move towards the circle they’ve formed in the living room. He’s already looking tipsy.

“Soooonieee, I missed you!” You hug him tightly as soon as you’re within reach. Chan’s voice cuts through the celebration. “Yah, quit hogging her!”

“Ignore them both; they’re half a bottle of soju away from full-blown drunkenness,” Dokyeom says with a laugh, pulling you away from their clinging. “Let’s get you settled. What do you want to drink? It doesn’t have to be alcohol if you’re not into that, though we were about to start a drinking game.”

You smile, feeling a wave of nostalgia. “Just water for me, but a drinking game sounds fun. I’d love to join, though you know my tolerance is pretty much nonexistent.”

“That’s fine,” Dokyeom says. “You can just watch, but—”

Before he can finish, Mingyu joins you in the kitchen, cutting in smoothly. “We were thinking of playing truth or dare, or drink. DK suggested it for old times’ sake.”

You don’t notice Minghao entering until his voice calls out your name, making you jump slightly. “I missed you. It’s been so long!” He moves in for an embrace, but Mingyu grabs your wrist and steers you towards the others. “Missed you too, Hao—” Your words are cut short by Mingyu’s brisk pace.

You miss the tense exchange of glances between Minghao and Mingyu, the latter looking determined while Minghao wears a sly smirk.

DK follows into the living room, carrying a tray of shot glasses and bottles. “So, who’s up first?”

The game kicks off with outrageous dares, from posting twerking videos on Instagram (DK’s specialty) to speaking Korean with an American accent for the rest of the game.

When it’s Minghao’s turn, he locks eyes with Mingyu. “I dare you to call the girl you like and confess exactly how you feel.”

The dare hits you like a punch to the gut. Mingyu hesitates for a moment before downing his shot in one go. Since when was he seeing someone?

The game continues with laughter and more dares until Wonwoo finally arrives, fresh from a long day at his internship.

The night has been the most fun you’ve had in years, but Mingyu’s secret lingers in your mind. Why hasn’t he told you about this?

Later, after everyone else has either left or collapsed on the couch, you and Mingyu find yourselves sitting on the porch outside his room. The cool night air and the city’s soft hum create the perfect backdrop.

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked someone?” you ask, trying to sound casual despite the twist in your chest.

Mingyu looks at you, his expression unreadable. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how? We’re best friends, Mingyu. You can tell me anything,” you press.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing. Really, don’t worry about it.”

Defeated, you decide to drop the topic. “Anyway, it’s late. I should get going—” But before you can finish, Mingyu’s warm hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back. The touch is unexpected but gentle.

“Don’t go,” Mingyu says, his brown eyes earnest. “It’s past midnight; you shouldn’t be driving alone.”

“It’s okay, Gyu, I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you closer, his grip firm but tender. “Please don’t go.” His plea makes your breath hitch. You’re used to his alcohol-fueled clinginess, but this feels different. Your heart races, and the tension between you makes your cheeks flush.

You grab Mingyu’s leftover soju from the ledge and take a swig. He watches you with a mix of surprise and admiration.

“Mingyu, can I do something stupid?” you ask, feeling the alcohol’s effects loosen your inhibitions.

“Do anything you want, whether it’s with me or something else. Just stay with me,” he replies, his voice low.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the moment, but you lift your hand to his cheek, standing on tiptoe to meet his gaze. Lost in his eyes, you notice his focus on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, as if he could read your mind.

He doesn’t hesitate. With a swift, decisive movement, his lips crash onto yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling away for air, but he immediately follows, chasing your lips with his own.

His hands explore your hips, then waist, until he's grabbed one of your thighs, pulling it up to his frame.

He pulls away, this time you expect him to say that you shouldn't be doing this, but to your surprise... "Need more. I need you, y/n" The whininess in his tone causes you to reject any worry you previously have about 'ruining the friendship'.

"You have me, Gyu". you manage to say, but you're so breathless it comes out sounding like a moan, it ignites something in Mingyu You'd never seen before.

His eyes grow dark in an instant, kissing you again this time leading you into the room with the hold he had on your hips. Strangely, you're the one who feels intoxicated now, mingyu sobering up by the minute.

"Can i touch you, y/n?" he whispers, breaking the kiss.

"Please do" you whisper back. He feels feral. Now you're on the bed, back against the mattress with mingyu hovering above you. He takes off his shirt and you're blushing like a teenager all over again.

You've seen Mingyu shirtless a number of times throughout your friendship. You would always have to look away, afraid he'd notice how flustered he made you. All those times were nothing compared to being this up close.

"Do you like what you see princess?" the way he says nickname has your heart and core fluttering. He holds your hand, presses it against his chest and you feel his heartbeat racing.

"I'm nervous too, its alright. we can stop at any point you don't feel like doing more, okay?" No other guy you've got this far with before paid this much attention to your satisfaction, he's unreal.

"Mingyu, i need you"

"You have me pretty girl, just tell me where"

You start by placing his palm against your cheek, then down to your chest torturously slow following the line that divides the left and right of your torso all the way down to your clothed cunt. "Here." you bat your lashes at him, doe eye on full display.

Mingyu wastes no time, he tugs the waistband of your pants all the way off in one swift motion. "Tell me how bad you want it baby" "Please gyu," you start, but your mind wonders far off anything coherent when you feel his lips graze your supple skin. He bites onto your panties, pulling them down your thighs with his teeth. So slowly, so sensually it almost feels surreal.

Once it's off, all of his attention is on your bare cunt, "dripping for me already and I haven't even touched you yet" "let's take care of that, yeah?" almost immediately, his face is buried in your heat, licking a long strip from your clit to your needy hole until he's back up, attacking your clit.

"Fuck, you taste so good" he practically moans out against your skin, sending vibrations through you.

Not long after the constant cycle of rubbing your clit and eating you like you were his last meal, he pulls off, spitting directly onto your slit and slides his middle and ring finger into you. His face returns to your cunt, repeating everything he did earlier, this time focusing on stimulating your gspot with his fingers.

“Right there! mmh” you whine out, trying to suppress your moans incase one of the guys outside wake up (which they wouldn’t even if you were to scream, because they’re all blacked out drunk).

“Don’t stop, please! fuck, gyu don’t stop” you feel him smirk against you. Your hands scurry the bed for something to hold onto when the pleasure starts to feel like too much. They finally reach to mingyu scalp tangling his hair causing him to moan out.

Without warning, his hands and lips detach from your pussy, earning pained a whimper from you feeling empty.

“Need to be inside you. Like now. i’ll make it up to you. Promise” he leans in, pulling you into another passionate kiss, hands busy with the him of your shirt “Take this off pretty. Wanna feel all of you.”

“Good girl” he hums once you do, kissing you as a reward. “Put me in”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated by his size. Not only was he long, but he was blessed in the girth department too.

You reach for him, holding the base of his cock to align it with your entrance. Once you start pushing the tip in, you’re scared you might not be able to handle the rest of him.

“That’s it, keep going you can take it.” he encourages. He glides in easily thanks to his fireplay earlier, but the stretch was alot. “Don’t worry baby i’ll make it fit.”

He gently moves your hand off of his dick where you connected and places his on your hips instead. “It’ll feel good soon, i promise” he whispers.

He slams every inch of himself into you all at once in a sharp motion. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re doing so good for me” his strokes are slow, but hard. Not missing your g-spot once. The pain turns to pleasure faster than you thought.

“You look so pretty like this” you’re unable to respond to the compliment, too consumed in how good he makes you feel.

Your nails graze his back, surely leaving marks. It drives him insane. the thought of you claiming him gets him so worked up his pace quickens, his pelvis snapping against yours.

Mingyu busies himself in your neck, leaving bites thatlll most definitely bruise before tomorrow.“Gyu m’gonna cum” you’re seeing stars.

“let it all go for me princess” that’s all it takes for you to release all over his cock.

His pace is constant, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Shit, that was so hot, good job pretty”

Your pussy clenches on him repeatedly, sending him closer to his edge. “Ass up” you obey as soon as he requests. Once you’re flipped over, he puts a pillow under your stomach ensuring your comfort.

“Took me so well just like i said you would”

In no time, he’s back to his previous pace, thrusting in and out of your soaked cunt. “Has anyone else ever made you feel this good?”

“No! fuck, only you gyu!” you can’t see him, but you can already assume (accurately so) that he’s got a smirk plastered across his face.

As he continues, you feel the coil from earlier build up again.

Mingyu holds your hand, pulling it under your body, between your lower tummy and the pillow, pressing it against the bulge that appears when he strokes all the way into you. “Do you feel me here?”

“Yes, god cumming again” he presses down against the bulge harder, adding more stimulation to your second orgasm.

“Good girl. Me too” he groans.

“Fill me up, gyu” he does exactly that.

“Fuck,” he chucked lowly “you can’t just say stuff like that, it makes me wanna ruin you”

“Then ruin me” you muster out through broken moans from the overstimulation.

Your walls are coated white, flodded with his release.

He still hasn’t pull out of you, not wanting to break contact.

“You mean that?” he says as he collapses onto the bed, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“Nah i was just kidding” of course, you’re only teasing. After this, he can do anything he wants to you.

“Uh huh, will you still be saying that when i ask you to sit on my face once you’re no longer sore?” he bites back at you.

“Shh go to sleep” you attempt to change the topic, aware that you’re playing a losing game.

“No sleeping yet pretty girl. Let’s get you cleaned up” and with that, he scoups you up bridal style, walking you to the bathroom and starts the shower for you two.

“My legs are wobbly because of you”

“Weren’t you just begging me to ruin you?”

“Okay whatever let’s get this over with i’m sleepy “ you sulk.

Mingyu spends most of the time in the shower focused on tending to you even though you reassure him you’re okay to do it on your own.

You’re in his clothes, cuddled up into his large arms. He can’t believe this is really happening. The girl he’s been inlove with since he was a teen is really here, right now, beside him like this.

“are you asleep?” he asks softly.

“depends” you respond playfully, making him roll his eyes.

“i’m really glad… this happened” his tone changes to a whisper, much more serious than earlier.

“Me too. i’d be even more glad if it happened another time?”

“Noted” he giggles, which turns into a yawn.

“goodnight, y/n”

“goodnight, gyu”

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in somehow even closer. You both fall asleep in a matter of minutes. your heart feels so full.

[ august 3rd 2023 ]

You wake up wrapped in Mingyu's embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest syncing with your own. As you shift onto your stomach, you lift your head to take in his sleeping face.

He looks utterly serene, the most angelic sight you've ever seen up close. Without thinking, your hand reaches up to cup his face, tenderly caressing his cheeks.

"I wish we could stay like this all day," you whisper, and his peaceful facade momentarily falters as a smile tugs at his lips.

"You sly little sh—" you begin, but yourwords are cut off as he flips you over, positioning himself on top of you.

"Let's stay like this then," he murmurs, burying his face in your chest, unwilling to let go of the warmth.

"But what about the guys?"

"What time do you think it is, baby?" he chuckles. "They all left, which is why I was already awake."

You glance at the clock on the nightstand. It's already 11 a.m.

"Don't blame me; you're the one who drained the life out of me last night!" You wince internally, regretting your choice of words as you notice him blush, his face hidden against your chest.

"Anyway, I made breakfast for you. Let's head to the kitchen," he says, and you can't help but think that Mingyu just keeps getting more perfect.

You spend the rest of the morning at his place, showering together, brushing your teeth, and lounging around in his clothes while eating and chatting casually. Well, almost casually. Mingyu finds every opportunity to steal kisses—at first, he says it’s to check for something on your lips, then it’s to blow an imaginary eyelash off your cheek. None of it is necessary, but you revel in his affectionate gestures.

Later, Mingyu insists you stay longer, but you have plans with Jiwon, your best friend, that evening. Reluctantly, you agree to leave, making a promise—thanks to Mingyu's persuasive charm—that you'll spend more one-on-one time with him later that week.

At the mall, Jiwon and you meander through a maze of shops, trying on clothes and chatting about everything under the sun. By the time you both concede to taking a break, your feet are sore, and your energy is depleted. You nestle into a comfy corner of a café, where you order a couple of steaming lattes and pastries, ready to unwind and catch up on life.

Despite your constant communication, there's always a treasure trove of new topics to dive into. Today, though, you’ve been brooding over how to drop some major news, and after much mental wrestling, you decide to take the plunge.

You're not sure how she'd react to the news about mingyu, so you decide to rip the bandage off all at once out of nowhere after hours of contemplation.

Jiwon’s eyes perk up immediately. "HE? YOU? Oh my god, stop! I’m going to pass out! YOU GUYS? Y/N?" Her shock and disbelief are palpable, reflecting your own feelings when you first wrapped your head around it.

You nod, a smile playing at your lips. "Yeah, I was just trying to figure out when and how to tell anyone."

Jiwon leans in, her face a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Well, now that we’re on this topic… how was it? Was he… you know… well-endowed?"

You laugh, feeling a flush of embarrassment mixed with amusement. "To sum it up in one word: heavenly. And yes, he’s definitely… well, impressive."

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” Jiwon’s eyes widen. “Honestly, I kind of saw this coming. He's always looking at you like he’s about to fall over from adoration. And even though you play it cool, it’s clear that you both have this crazy thing for each other but are too scared to admit it—probably because of the whole ‘maintaining the friendship’ thing.”

You cringe at how spot-on she is. “Okay, I won’t argue with your assessment. But you can’t deny that he’s seen me at my best and worst. He’s the best guy friend I’ve ever had, and it would be strange to end things since we share so many mutual friends.”

“Whatever’s meant to happen will happen, Y/N. Just do what feels right. I think that means letting whatever started with Mingyu last night continue.”

“Ugh, I agree. Thanks for being my moral compass, Jiwon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” In a spontaneous gesture, she grabs your hand.

You expect her to say something sentimental, but instead, she surprises you with her usual boldness.

“Cute. Now let’s go get you some lingerie to celebrate with your boy toy.” Jiwon’s lack of a filter never ceases to amuse you.

[ august 7th 2023 ]

Mingyu's at your apartment, finally able to hang out together like you decided on the last you met.

You're both on the couch, keeping fair distance whilst you watch 'Crash Landing On You' for the second time with him.

Halfway into the second episode, mingyu slides himself closer to your end of the couch, breaking the invisible barrier between the two of you.

"i miss you" he pouts, seeking your attention.

"i'm right here" you can't help but giggle at how stupidly adorable he looks.

He places a hand on your waist, reeling you closer to him. "I have an idea of something more fun we could do"

"Mhm, and what is that?' you inquire.

"Let me show you" he lifts you like you weigh nothing more than a feather, settling you on his lap allowing you to straddle him.

"Remember what i said about sitting on my face? Can you do that for me pretty girl?" his fingers dance on the elastic of your underwear, waiting for your permission before he goes any further.

"Yes i can, but can i taste you today instead, gyu?" your reply catches his off guard.

"Anything you want baby" the pet name sends shivers down your spine, encouraging you to act upon your urges and pulling him into deep kiss.

You get off of his lap, knees against the hard wooden floor, ridding him of his jeans whilst he tugs his shirt off. He's so fit.

His dick bulges through his calvins, fighting against the fabric. "Look at how hard you make me pretty"

You take his cock out of his boxers, almost salivating at the sight of it. His tip is crimson, begging for relief.

You wrap your hand around his shaft, drawing it closer to your face. You lick a long strip along it, coming back up and stopping at his tip and taking it into your mouth.

Once he's past your lips, he's a groaning mess. "Fuck, you're doing so well, keep going."

You take him in further gagging around him when he's all the way in, stuffing your throat. "Good girl. So good for me, shit"

His hands pull your hair into a loose ponytail, using the light grip to guide you. You bob your head, thrusting him in and out of your mouth at a steady pace.

It doesn't take long for you to find a rhythm, but it's not enough for him. He really just wants to be inside your cunt, so to speed up the process, "Can I fuck your throat baby?" his voice drops a few octaves down, losing himself in pleasure.

You nod in response, and that's all the confirmation he needs to push your head closer to his pelvis. He stands up to angle his dick better, thrusting in and out of your mouth, gradually reaching his climax.

Your eyes are full of tears, mascara running down your face tipping him over the edge. "Can you handle swallowing?" he asks through broken moans making you nod again. He holds you in place, reaching all the way down your throat where he releases his load.

He reaches out to hold your hand, pulling you to your feet, flush against his body into a kiss. "You're unreal".

He sits both of you back onto the couch in your previous position. "Please fuck me" you whimper out, too horny to care about how desperate that must've sounded.

"So bold" he smirks "Well, as my lady wishes"

He works on removing your bottoms while you unbutton the silk pajama shirt you're wearing. When you're finally stripped out of your clothes, he's in awe at the revelation of what you'd been hiding underneath.

"You're gonna be my demise" is the last thing he utters before yanking your panties to the side, lifting you to align your cunt with his cock, and slowly sinking you down on it.

You moan in unison at the feeling of the initial stretch. It feels like he's breaking you in two in the most divine way possible.

"Fuck, y/n nobody else can ever feel you like this."

"I'm yours mingyu, fuck!" you manage to whine out.

He holds your hips to slam you onto his dick. His free hand creeps up to your neck, choking you slightly as he fucks into you. It drives you insane, feeling him all the way inside you near your cervix. At some point, his cock really does kiss your cervix, causing you to sob out from the overwhelming pleasure mixed with that unfamiliar pain.

He doesn't fail to hit the spongy tissue in you even once. He changes position, laying you on your back with his hand still on your throat. Your vision suddenly blurs, a mix of white and stars clouds your mind with your eyes sealing shut.

You're squirting. All over him at that.

"Holyyy fuck," Mingyu groans out. "Y/n, fuck you're gonna make me cum" "Cum-" Youre interrupted by a wave of your orgasm crashing through your body "-in me"

And so he does. This might have been the hottest thing mingyu has ever experienced.

"You're clenching down on me so hard, fuck. oh fuck-" The overstimulation from his relentless thrusts sends you both over the edge.

"The couch" he says followed by an airy laugh, but you couldn't really care less about the mess right now.

"You have officially ruined me" you whisper with a fucked out smile.

"Good." he smiles back. his eyes linger on where you connect, pulling out of you and admiring the sight of his cum dripping out of you. "Fuck, can I take a picture of this?"

"Sure, just dont show it to anyone" his eyes sparkle at your response.

"It's cute that you think i'd share you" he uses two fingers to plunge into your tight, dripping hole and fucks his cum back into you. "so pretty" he pulls his phone out, snapping a picture of the image he's already embedded into his mind.

"Let's go clean you up"

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

A/N: this is a rewrite of one of my most popular one shots :] i intend to turn this into a series and the first version of it felt a little to scrappy for a chapter one! i hope you enjoy!

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[heartandfangs]

THEN EARN IT.

GENRE Married Couple AU, Romance, Smut

PAIRING CEO!Husband!Jay x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Cursing, Mention of anxiety, Lingerie, Mention of food/working out/body image/sex toy use, Teasing, Masturbation, Making out, Multiple orgasms, Oral Sex (f!receiving), Hand job, Oversensitivity, Shower/Wall Sex, Nipple play, Alcohol, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Dom!Jay, Sub!Reader, Dom!Reader, Sub!Jay, Switch!Reader, Switch!Jay

SUMMARY After several weeks of being apart, your husband has a bit of making up to do for Valentine's Day after missing your call and showing up late to the penthouse.

WORD COUNT 4.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE I'm so sorry I clowned everyone who was waiting for this drop the week of Valentine's (I got sooo busy i'm the biggest clown of them all) but I made it 5x longer than I first intended to and it's hot but also v intimate 🥵🌶

I’ve always considered Jay to be husband material, and here's a fic to show for it. If you wanna edge your brain out to husband CEO Jay in a penthouse, this is for you ♥️ Follow, like & share if you enjoyed! ⚰️ Masterlist © 2021-2023, Heart and Fangs. All rights reserved. Do not translate or post anywhere.

It was certainly something being young and married to Park Jongseong. Well, you wondered if you could be considered young anymore; perhaps to your older coworkers who were empty nesters, you could. To them, you had your whole life set ahead of you, but maybe you were viewed differently by your freshly graduated interns striving to get by the rigorous training standards you set for the Park's company.

Regardless, you felt young.

In a way, Jay made you feel like you had never aged a day since meeting him, and at the same time, it felt like you'd lived someone else's lifetime. Funny how a mere man could affect you so…

And how the prolonged separation between you two never got any easier over the years.

You were the partner who took it all in stride best. Not to say that Jay wasn't a persevering individual; he was your role model in that sense.

But he was undoubtedly the more clingy one; you had just been raised differently. 

After years of getting to know Jay and growing close enough to call him by nickname, it seemed like he was rarely given a chance to work past his anxieties as a child. You've witnessed him grow immensely, and you both had done what you had to do when duty called— whether that meant taking care of business during a month spent apart in different states or even countries. 

The possibility of infidelity has crossed your mind during these times; such thoughts were only normal, yet you chose to trust him fully and knew he trusted you too. 

After all, they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and the unwavering admiration Jay regards you with gives you the strength to approach each day with an assuredness that everything will be okay at the end of it.

In fact, your husband's signature brand of adoration only grew until it was too much to contain every damn time you finally reunited. 

Not that you ever complained with how exquisite of a lover he grew to be thanks to your guidance and vice-versa. Nor could you ever tire from the spoils of a blessed life, and Jay knew this fact incredibly well.  

However, since your flight into this new city touched down first, you took it upon yourself to prepare the penthouse you two booked with personal touches to celebrate a belated Valentine's. An overrated 'holiday,' at least by your standards, but your husband managed to change your perspective and always made it an occasion to look forward to since the year he met you. 

Of course, business only got busier throughout your marriage. Although you two agreed for the first time to celebrate Valentine's together a few days late this year, the compromise was a bit disheartening. 

The two of you only exchanged a short phone call that night and a few words of longing but nothing more, which was uncharacteristic of Jay. 

He must’ve been exhausted. 

And now, he was running late— much later than the ETA he originally shared with you. 

A plethora of reasons for his hold-up came to mind, and you were beginning to grow worried. Perhaps he was just touching down? Or his phone died? Maybe caught in traffic? It was storming outside, after all…

Even after you'd showered, slathered on your favorite whipped body butter, and thrown on a satin robe, ensuring your complexion was dewy with skincare, you still felt uneasy inside. 

While waiting for Jay's call on the leather sofa, you indulged in a favorite remedy; a full glass of red wine had been calling your name hours ago.

After swallowing the last drop of wine, you attempted to relax into the cushions with a heavy sigh and shut your eyes, a dull pain throbbing between your furrowed brows. You were left with no choice but to wait in the dark.

A knock from the entryway drew you from sleep. You slowly reached for your phone to see several unread messages from Jay, the most recent one reading 'I'm here'. 

You couldn't have reached the door quicker.

Jay stood in the doorway, a damp umbrella snapped in half in one hand and a dozen red roses with drenched petals in the other. He looked handsome as ever; no amount of rain could hamper his looks, droplets soaking into his thick lashes and brows. 

Your brows rose at his state and that he was alive and well. "Jay."

"This cheap ass umbrella inverted the moment I stepped out of the Uber," Jay stated with a straight face, a huff leaving his chest as he stepped inside and dropped the umbrella. 

He automatically raised his arms to embrace you but thought better of it as he took in your rather dry attire with a soft smile, the kind that was only ever reserved for you behind closed doors. He slowly admired you from head to toe, releasing a quiet exhale. You couldn't have felt warmer under your thin excuse of a robe. 

"You look beautiful. I'm sorry I'm late," Jay lightly caressed your lower back with a certain sweetness in his touch, knowing precisely what it did to you between your thighs. 

You reached out first to draw him against your chest tightly. As if you cared about a little bit of rainwater.

"It's about time," you murmured against his neck, pulling back to meet those eyes you missed peering into over meals and late-night conversations, "Do you know how worried I was? Have you eaten yet—"

Within a mere blink, you felt Jay's fingers slide through the locks of your hair, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that reminded you of your college days spent entwined together, fogging up the windows of his vintage car parked on a hill. 

In fact, it was a starved, apologetic kiss worth three long weeks of pent-up frustration from tirelessly rubbing shoulders with investors and back-to-back business meetings without your calm, grounding presence by his side at the end of the day. 

Letting his thoughts run wild about you past midnight and well into his dreams did nothing to quell his heart and body's immense ache for you.

It wasn't nearly enough to fist himself underneath the steaming shower head, feeling like he was about to faint from both burnout and a heady sense of self-fulfilling lust that never quite satisfied. He needed to feel you in his arms, against his beating chest, spilling over his parched lips.

To delight in every pitch of your airy voice, depending on the sweet spots he chose to assault with his tongue and deft fingers.

That's why, while he'd usually continue with charming conversation and offer the smuggest of smiles, all he could do right now was press closer to you like some sort of pitiful creature starved of affection stealing away your warmth, the plush-like softness of your breasts against his firm chest reminding him of all that lay ahead for you two on this well-earned night to be spent reacquainting himself with your body and soul— not that he'd ever forgotten in the slightest. 

It didn't matter that his flight had gotten delayed, that it'd taken him one too many hours than it should have to meet you in the middle because you stood before him now like some sort of mirage, beautiful and as lovely as ever. 

"Jay," You tried to scold despite your cheeks heating up.

"Haven't eaten yet," Your husband confessed, dragging his lips over the curve of your throat with such a tenderness that threatened to buckle your knees. He dropped his palms to knead greedily over the satin fabric draped over your ass in contrast, making you moan softly, "M' starving though. Indulge me a bit with something sweet before dinner, please?"

You sighed, amused, "Dessert before dinner? Think you deserve it?"

With swift fingers, you were already loosening the knot of his tie, which he offered you a grateful look for while running his hands up your spine and shamelessly pressing his hardness between your thighs. Your proximity alone was riling him up, and by handing over the reins, he knew exactly what you would do in response to his overwhelming neediness.

"Oh, I'll earn it," Jay hotly whispered against your lips, practically melding himself to you in any way he could. 

"So willing," The soft corners of your tinted lips tugged upwards as you brushed a strand of dark hair from his half-lidded eyes, feeling Jay shiver beneath his suit. 

"Anything and everything for you," He nodded, a knowing smile forming on his lips. 

It seemed like your baby was counting on you to kill him slowly.

You took the bouquet from his grasp and enjoyed its rosy fragrance before setting it aside on the glass dining table. "Come on. You deserve a hot bath after such a long day, love."

So you tugged him along by his necktie into the spacious master bedroom that reminded you of a lot of the homes you built together. Upon entering, one first noticed the long panel of windows that reached the ceiling lining the left wall, overlooking the city's vast nightlife below. 

Of course, the only view Jay could possibly focus on with parted lips was the sway of your hips and the subtle outline of lingerie he managed to make out under your robe, for you knew he adored lace on your skin just as much as leather. 

As enticing as the massive bed in the center appeared, he followed you into the softly lit master bathroom with a rainfall shower above the enormous tub. With a push of a silver button on the wall panel, the tub began to fill with bubbling, hot water; it could fit a good ten individuals if desired.

You let him look over the space while bending over to light up the several candles you arranged along the wide marble edges of the jacuzzi with a pack of matches.

"Leave it to you to find a place like this," Jay complimented you for your impeccable taste, watching your face through the extensive wall-length mirror just above the tub. 

The space immediately began to smell of elegant rum and white musk. The master bathroom was alight with candles thanks to your quick work, a haze of vapor wafting over the tub's edge. 

"It's all ours for tomorrow and the day after."

"We'll have to make every second count then…" You could feel his gaze licking up your legs just by the hunger tinging his voice like curls of smoke. 

"Like we always do," You flicked your wrist to extinguish the match and toss it into a silver bin before making your way back to Jay, slowly smoothing your palms across his clothed chest and broad shoulders, simply taking him in for the first time in what felt like an eternity. 

Due to time differences and your schedules being packed more than usual this past month, personal calls were seldom made between you, aside from virtual business meetings involving other potential clients and shareholders.

Jay's eyes were alight with excitement as he stared down at you despite the shadows beneath them; you couldn't keep yourself from drawing his face close and placing a kiss on his lips while his hands moved restlessly across your waist, his hips nudging against yours. 

"Mm, please…" 

"Patience, baby," You reminded and gave him an expectant look that he heeded.

Although he couldn't wait, he knew better than to speed up the process you so enjoyed dragging out. Piece by piece, you started to strip him bare, unhurried and teasingly in the most intimate manner.

First, you slipped his tie from his nape, reminded of all the times you've used it as a blindfold or to bind his wrists, then you shoved off his blazer. His wet shirt stuck to his skin like a transparent fabric, and you undid button after button to reveal his toned chest just above a sharply etched set of abs, rainwater, and spiced cologne clinging to his skin.

"Honestly, I haven't had much time to work out these days…" Jay's tongue clicked in dissatisfaction, although you noticed his eyelashes lowering at you. His palm rested against the pulse of your neck, fingers softly curling into your hair.

You cut him off right there, your heated touch under his clothes pulling a restrained moan from his throat. "Missing a few workouts won't hurt you, just don't skip your meals. Quit being so hard on yourself," You reassured him, tugging the ends of his shirt out of his cut waistline and traveling even lower, "You're definitely overthinking it."

Jay cracked a relieved smile, stroking your face, "I have to when my beloved is this beautiful… Ah—"

Your fingertips rubbed lightly over the outline of his throbbing bulge, causing his hips to chase your touch until you finally dropped his trousers to the floor in a haphazard pile, leaving Jay in his tight briefs.

"Fucking driving me crazy…" He caressed your cheek and over your arm in the most pleading manner, his chest rising and falling heavily. You sorely missed the sound of his belabored breaths tickling your ears.

With a lick of your lips, you finally dragged the band of Jay's black briefs down his thighs to witness his hard cock springing forth and dribbling with precum. 

After scraping your nails down his hips and brushing past his trail of hair, your caress just ghosted along his length; all he had to do was press forward, and then he'd finally feel you—

"Go and hop in. I'll be right back with drinks," You stroked Jay's chin as you disappeared into the bedroom to retrieve a bottle of champagne and chilled flutes from the mini-fridge. 

"Fuck," You heard him drawl under his breath, causing you to smirk.

His feet were already bringing him to climb over the marble ledge into the tub, but his inner cheek was caught between his teeth, a knot bobbing in his throat due to desperation. He wobbled a bit before descending into the bath, terribly dizzy, no thanks to you.

Upon re-entering, you found it adorable that Jay sank into the heated water and looked up at you with anticipation. The warmth should've begun to release the tension throughout his body, but it persisted, thanks to your enticing visage.

While you perched on the ledge and busied yourself with pouring champagne, Jay momentarily pulled up near your legs and pressed a chaste kiss against your knee, stroking his hands under the edge of your satin robe. 

Experiencing the desire of his touch after so long took your breath away; he squeezed your thigh as you handed him a bubbly glass full of almond-scented champagne.

Jay caught your wrist, bringing it to his lips to place soft yet insatiable kisses up your palm and inner wrist, gazing into your eyes all the while. 

"I missed you," He reiterated sincerely, making your cheeks warm despite that hours had passed since you last had anything to drink. "I'm sorry I didn't call you back on Thursday. My schedule really got the best of me this week…" 

You could hear the guilt lingering in his voice.

In a typical fashion, you clinked the rim of his glass before knocking the flute back completely, and Jay followed suit. 

You swiped your tongue over your lips, setting the glass aside. "Hm, I suppose you have a bit to make up for, don't you?"

"A lot," Jay reached out to tip your chin towards him and captured your moistened lips, a gesture you returned easily.

"And you will. But first, you can start by sitting back and letting me take care of you, love."

You dipped your legs into the water while seated on the ledge, ushering Jay to sit back between them as you pumped an intoxicating sweet musk-scented gel into your palm. His immediate obedience pleased you; he leaned into your touches as you slowly lathered his body to your satisfaction. 

Brushing over his nipples alone drew rumbly sounds from Jay's throat, but it wasn't until you leaned further over his shoulder and slid your hand down his abdomen to rub against the base of his cock that he failed to choke back a groan. 

"Fuck, you're killing me," Jay echoed your thoughts as his chest heaved, enduring your teasing. 

You hummed knowingly, continuing to pump him from base to tip while nibbling at his reddened ear and flicking his nipple with the other hand. He began thrusting into your grip, chasing a high only you could grant him as you brought him closer and closer to his end…

And then you straightened up, pulling away.

"No, no…" Jay turned on you with a whine and placed his hands on either side of your clothed hips, hauling himself slightly out of the water to press near. You weren't making this easy on him at all.

You felt the water from his body soak through your robe but kept your hands off him. "Thought you were gonna be good for me?"

"I am, but you're teasing me too much," He insisted, rubbing circles into your hips, making you throb between your thighs.

"Don't you think it's about time for you to start making up for things?"

His eyelashes lowered before he dipped his head down to your lace-covered chest. You felt the surface of his hot tongue dip against your cleavage and swirl up your decollete before he started sucking hungry kisses into your skin.

No time was spared in disrobing you to reveal your tight set of strappy, sensual lingerie, a deep crimson against your gorgeous skin. The red mesh lined across your breasts and mound did little to cover the perkiness of your nipples and the sheen of arousal in the place Jay wanted to taste you the most.

He squeezed your breasts, continuing his trail of kisses down your smooth, soft torso with a dimming look in his eyes. Your soft chuckle turned into a gasp when Jay suddenly parted your knees with a firm hold and pressed his tongue against your mesh-covered slit, tasting the sweet excitement you'd been hiding from him since he stepped into the penthouse. 

"Oh—"

The steam rolling off the water paired with the champagne on an empty stomach already made you lightheaded, let alone how Jay started working his tongue over your swollen pussy. 

"That's perfect, baby," You praised him, lifting your hips off the ledge so he could remove your panties, although they were lovely on you for the moment.

He determined long ago that your body laid bare was something to be worshiped altogether. 

"You're perfect," He emphasized with a gentle kiss against your clit, followed by a messy lap of his tongue down to your slit and back up to capture your clit once more. 

Your breath shuddered, eyes shutting with your head tipped back to focus on the incredible sensations of Jay's lips and tongue— his skills never disappointed you. He did his share of messing with you as well; the circles over your nub would grow lazy, and the thrusting of his tongue, shallow, until you slid your hands through his hair, bucking your hips for more.

A glint in Jay's eyes appeared; he relished how you tugged on his strands for a bit longer, and then he indulged you.

His thumb firmly but gently rolled over your clit with swift expertise while he buried his tongue deep into your plush insides, ready to savor the taste of your release. You counted the few seconds you could hold out until your insides clenched and pleasure pulsed outwards towards the tips of your fingers and toes.

"Fuck— M-Mmn, Jay!"

The orgasm Jay gave you was blinding and debilitating as if syrup was released into your veins, making you feel completely euphoric.

With each jerk against his face, you spilled more onto his tongue— could feel him wiggle his wet muscle even deeper as he sought after every drop. He knew that for as lavish a lifestyle you loved to live with him, you still never liked to waste.

Even as you were trembling through the aftershocks of your high, he slid two of his thick fingers into you and proudly dragged his heavy tongue around your puffy clit, his mischievous intent made clear. 

He wanted to see you wrecked.

"Haah�� Jay—"At the whiny sound of his name, he stroked your insides, building up the tension in your tummy once more and way faster than you could comprehend. 

"Mm," Jay groaned against your clit with each kiss and suckle like he was enjoying every bit of you. The pads of his fingers rubbed at your sweet spot with vigor and quickly made you lose control of your limbs.

Jay heard your breath stutter as your thighs clamped firmly around his head. You haphazardly slid onto your back, head dangling off the marble ledge as he ruthlessly drew your next orgasm from your body.

"Oh god," You moaned helplessly, warm pussy pulsating around Jay's fingers as he fucked you hard with them, "A-Ah— Ahh!"

Your hole gushed more this time, squirting across his hand and coating his chin as he readily swallowed all of you. You tugged at your nipples and writhed in delight with each soft peck he placed on your sensitive skin. 

Jay just adored seeing you so content after pleasing you to the fullest, or so you thought.

Not a moment later, he stood tall above you, and you let him pull you into his arms, hopping up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He held you against him firmly, letting you slide against his hard length trapped against your abdomen. The rain shower lightly misted down over your intertwined bodies.

"Guess you haven't lost your touch," You murmured, tracing your nails down his neck.

In two short steps, he slammed you back against the fogged mirror with enough force to send jolts of excitement through your body, but he cushioned the back of your head with his hand. Your heart thrummed against your chest, entrance already dripping with fresh arousal.

"Never," Jay kissed you hard, making you believe he meant it. 

The wetness between your legs was evident as it mingled with his, "Feel free to divorce me the day I do."

"Jay, don't say that. I was just joking—"

"If there comes a day I can't make you cum all over me, I don't deserve you. That's a fact."

"Fine then, same goes for me."

He huffed, kissing your collarbone, "You don't ever have to worry about that."

You laughed and rolled your hips eagerly against his, "It doesn't make sense for you to hold only yourself to that standard."

He raised his head to look you in the eye seriously, "I know, I just… I'm not always there for you, although I want to be. Everything in our life is amazing, but… if we lose it all to something out of our control— I just want you to always be happy. With or without me."

Your brows rose in slight surprise at the combination of insecurity and vulnerability in his confession.

"I'm always with you, Jay. It's gotten tough before, and it'll get tough again, but that's what we signed up for the day we got married, and it's not ever going to deter me from wanting to be with you for life."

Jay seemed to be absorbing your reassuring words, the knot between his brows relaxing, a relieved smile forming on his flushed lips.

"Besides, you can't fail. You have me by your side," You reminded Jay confidently of your business track record, stealing a kiss from him.

He laughed, "I'm sorry for ever doubting you, my love."

"Again. If you're so sorry, prove it…"

You saw that he trusted your previous words like you trusted him with you in his arms, so he swiftly lifted you by the hips, his grip on your ass positively possessive, and sunk you down onto the blushing tip of his aching cock.

"Mmh, that I can do."

He kept you there, and frustratedly, you tugged down the straps of your bralette and unlatched the band, throwing it far over Jay's shoulder onto the floor. Jay's tongue found your hard nipples, flicking over them as you bounced on the tip of his cock, the moist sounds echoing off the damp walls.

"Jay, I swear to god if you don't—!"

Right then, he sheathed you fully on his cock, letting you feel the way he throbbed while you squeezed him tight. The moans you both let out sounded equally desperate; it was maddening. 

"God— look at you, swallowing up my cock so easily even though it's been a few weeks. Been playing with yourself, haven't you? Making use of the dildo that I sent you the day I left?"

You blushed, thinking back to the nights you filled yourself to the brim with Jay's ridiculous yet genius idea of a customized dildo, and admitted the truth, "Maybe, but it doesn't compare to you."

"What do you mean? It's my cock," Jay smirked, hell-bent on teasing you even though it was his idea to give it to you. 

Although they managed to capture each pulsing vein and even the curve of his cock…

"Can't feel it throb or get harder," You insisted, "It doesn't feel hot or—"

Jay thrusted sharply, causing you to cry out in pleasure. "Or what?"

"Or reach deep enough—"

He drew closer, "And?" 

"It doesn't fill me up with cum like you do." Your demure eyes, heavy with dew, pinned him in place as he noticed the longing in them.

"That what you want, my love? Want me to pump your sweet pussy full of my cum?"

"Fuck yeah," You gnawed on your lower lip with a breathy giggle.

With that, he pistoned his hips up into you even harder right as you tightened around his cock. Jay watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, getting lost in the heat of the moment, a sight he never tired of seeing. His balls ached with the urgent need to fill you up, so he pressed you against the wall, tightening his hold around you while his other hand found your sensitive little clit.

"Gimme one more then, sweetheart, c'mon," He encouraged, rolling his hips up into your heat while working his fingers 'round and 'round your sticky clit. 

The entirety of your body shook immensely once more, your nails unintentionally clawing stripes of red across his shoulder blades at the overwhelming sensations bombarding you.

"I love you, ___," You heard Jay pant against your ear before letting go of the unbearable tension seizing your core.

Your cries of pleasure drove him to release, cock twitching as he filled you up with cum that spilled from your entrance with each thrust, punctuated by a deep growl.

"There," Jay pressed a sweet kiss to your lips and ground into you one last time, watching your eyes flutter, "My baby's stuffed to the brim with my cum..."

You hummed happily against his cheek, could feel him leaking out of you.

Jay slid your body back down into the comforting warm water as you caught your breath in his arms.

"Geez… I think I'm gonna be sore tomorrow morning," You admitted.

"I'd be more than willing to give you a little massage then."

"That sounds really lovely," Your lips curled into a smile as you stretched your arms overhead and wrapped them around Jay's neck, "Not so sure about relaxing, though." 

"Why not both an invigorating massage and then a relaxing massage? One after the other, no extra charge?" That roguish smirk of Jay's was back again.

"Two for the price of one?" You feigned a curious peek at him. Your husband's smile had gone soft.

"Only for you, my love."

You gave him a pointed look, "And the price is?"

"You stay for my three-course breakfast afterward." He watched your eyes grow big in excitement, seeing that he hadn't had the chance to cook a homemade meal for you in months.

"So long as it's breakfast in bed," You couldn't help but beam up at him.

"You read my mind," Jay licked at your lips for permission, and you slid your tongue against his in kind.

Jay locked his lips with yours for a deep yet present kiss, one that expressed much more than mere words ever could— and when he slowly pulled back, he could see his future reflected in your eyes just as he did on the day he married you; him by your side, for as long as you'd have him.

A forever earned.

[x-press-it]

Devilish Desires - 7/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others...) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn't know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited.

I kept getting derailled by stuff but El Famoso Chapter 7 (as my hubby has been calling it those last weeks) is finally done T^T I think my ADHD brain doesn't want me to finish this story because once it's done, it's done and I'll have to say goodbye to Ezekiel and this Logan. Regarding the poll I made about male x male smut, as the results were mixed, if I write anything between Logan and Zeek, I'll make this a bonus scene. Okay, people, it's time to feed the hunger again :)

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 7/8

Word Count: 12.4K / 60K+ for now

E opened their eyes as the ray of the sun stroked their skin. The golden light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Next to them, Logan was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his expression peaceful—more so than E had ever seen since their first encounter in that tense hallway weeks ago.

They let their gaze roam over the lines of his face, memorizing every detail: the scruff along his jaw, the way his lashes rested against his cheek, and how his tousled hair fell messily across his brow, lending him an almost boyish look. The sight stirred a rare, warm smile from E, a glimmer of something fragile and cherished flickering within them.

Despite the contentment that coursed through their veins, a seed of resolve pressed at the back of their mind, they didn’t want to disturb him, nor did they want him to wake up alone, with only the ghost of their presence left in the warmth of the sheets. But time wasn’t on their side, as the rest of the mansion was about to awaken.

E brushed their fingers lightly along Logan’s arm, feeling the solid muscle shift beneath their touch even as he slept, the faint brush of their fingers drawing a soft, instinctive hum from him. Slowly, his eyes cracked open, still heavy with the haze of sleep.

The sharp alertness that often defined him flickered briefly before his gaze landed on them. Almost immediately, his features softened, the edge of wariness melting into something softer.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough and hoarse, but so low it felt like a quiet confession.

E’s lips curved in a small, tender smile. Something in his tone, softer than anything they’d ever expected from him, made their old, dusty heart stutter in their chest. For all the years they’d walked the earth, never had they been spoken to in such a way.

“Hey,” they responded in kind, voice almost shy as their eyes traced his features—the rugged lines of his face, the way his hair stuck up slightly, the barest hint of something unguarded in his expression.

Logan shifted slightly, his arm flexing beneath their touch, though he made no move to pull away. “Leavin’ already?” he asked, the whisper still rough but edged with something else—an unspoken reluctance, maybe, or the wish to hold onto this fleeting moment a little longer.

E leaned in, their lips brushing against his temple. “Wouldn’t want people to find out they’re right about us, would we?” Their voice was tinged with light humor, but the reference to Scott’s pointed remarks during the trial still lingered between them. The subtle accusation—that it was easy for lovers to fight in sync—now felt like he had seen right through them, and they both didn’t like that.

Logan’s face turned thoughtful, a shadow of concern settling over his features. “Is there anything we can do about it?” he asked, the question heavy with the understanding that staying under the radar was going to become increasingly difficult in the days yet to come. “Turn their feelings around, maybe?”

“There might be a solution,” E said, their tone serious. “But you’re not going to like it.”

He frowned, curiosity mingled with caution. “Go on, lay it out.”

“We act like something happened between us,” they explained, eyes flickering with a hint of reluctance. “Something bad. We make them believe we can’t stand each other anymore.” They paused, studying Logan’s reaction. “It has to be convincing, Logan. Real mean. We’ll need to sell it, even if it means hurting each other in the process.”

Logan exhaled slowly, the tension in his jaw tightening as the weight of the plan settled on him. “You’re right—I don’t like it. But I see how it could work.” His eyes met theirs, resigned but resolute. “If you’re game, I’m in.”

A small smile, bittersweet and fleeting, crossed E’s lips as they leaned in and kissed his cheek. “We may have to do it more than once.”

“Yeah,” Logan said with a heavy nod. “The more we do it, the more convincing it’ll look.”

They sat in the stillness that followed, letting the warmth between them linger just a moment longer before the masks would have to come on and the distance between them would become painfully real.

The silence in the room grew heavier, the weight of what they were about to do settling over them. In a rare moment of connexion, E reached for Logan’s fingers, the tips of their own brushing against his in a soft, tentative dance. Logan’s response was immediate; he closed his hand around theirs, the warmth a brief comfort against the cold edge of reality.

“It’s a difficult time to go through,” they murmured. Their voice, barely above a whisper, carried the tremor of uncertainty. They tried to sound reassuring, though the words were as much for themselves as for him. “We need to focus on the moments we’ll be alone. Let’s not let ourselves get lost in our own lies.”

Logan nodded, his thumb moving in slow circles, brushing gently over the back of their hand. His expression was raw, the look on his face saying everything words couldn’t—the pain of what lay ahead, the quiet acceptance of it, and the unyielding resolve to shield them, even if it meant taking the fall himself.

The hurt, etched into the hard lines of his face, was a reflection of everything E felt. They both knew this was the quickest way to shift the tide, to keep E safe from the suspicion tightening around them like a noose. And if it meant bearing the brunt of it, he would—because of the fierce, protective feeling blazing in his chest, but also because he trusted them.

E let out a heavy sigh, their lips pressing into a thin line before they smoothed back the strands of his hair with their free hand, fingers brushing through the dark mess. They were about to speak when Logan’s head turned slightly, his ears twitching as he picked up the faint sound of running water. It came from the direction of Kurt’s room, judging by the echo through the walls.

Logan’s gaze shifted back to them, softer now but edged with urgency. He brought their hand to his lips, pressing a gentle, lingering, kiss to their knuckles. “You have to go,” he said, voice low and reluctant. “People are starting to wake up.”

E exhaled deeply again, the air leaving their mouth almost trembling, but they nodded. They leaned forward, pressing their forehead against his in a quiet, intimate gesture that said everything they couldn’t put into words.

“See you around, pretty boy,” they whispered, the familiar teasing lilt in their voice dulled by the reality of what was to come.

Logan gave a small nod in return, the reluctance in his eyes mirrored by the heaviness in his chest. The thought of what they were about to do—the lies they’d weave to protect their arrangement—made the air between them feel sharper, more fragile.

He watched as they slipped out of the room, the emptiness they left in their wake pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake. It was a stinging sense of loss, one he knew would linger long after the door closed behind them.

Once he found himself alone, he rose from the bed, the space around him cool and empty in the absence of E. Their scent lingered faintly in the room, and his heart ached with want—no, the need—to see them, to have them against him, to touch them.

What was happening to him? Was he that far gone already? Wrapped around their little finger? His head felt foggy, exhaustion creeping in at the edges of his awareness, adding to the strange weight pressing against his chest. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts, willing the heaviness away before heading to the bathroom.

The steady patter of water as he showered grounded him, but it did little to clear the memories that crowded his mind. E’s teasing smile, their eyes dancing with mischief; the way they’d pushed and pulled at him the night before, challenging him yet surrendering with a trust so deep it shook him to his core.

The thought of it sent warmth coursing through him, a pulse that beat in time with the thrum of the water. They had told him they were a giver—always putting others first. For so long, they hadn’t allowed themselves to be selfish, maybe not ever. Only once in their long, lonely existence.

But with him, they had.

That truth sank into him, mingling with a sense of awe that twisted into longing. He knew a thing or two about keeping things—instincts, urges, emotions—in check for years, decades, centuries even. The weight of being chosen by someone who, like him, had kept their guard so high for so long was something he felt with every fiber of his soul, making him shiver with pride.

He’d known satisfaction before, shared heated moments with countless partners over the span of nearly two centuries—men and women, different faces and places—but this… this had struck deeper than he thought possible.

Rinsing the shampoo from his hair, Logan let out a breath that fogged the glass wall of his shower. His mind replayed the previous night, as if on loop: the way E had looked at him, unguarded and raw; how their movements had mirrored a kind of surrender that words couldn’t touch.

That feeling of being seen and wanted—not just as a weapon, not just as a mutant or a means to an end, but as himself. Whole. Flawed. It was dangerous, intoxicating. A craving took root in his chest, a quiet yet insistent need for more of that feeling, more of them.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself off, wrapping a towel around his waist before brushing his teeth. The routine motions were automatic, but his mind spun with those vivid images, heat already pooling low in his belly.

He styled his hair, the habitual tug of the comb pulling him back to the present, but not completely. Not when his senses were still keenly aware of their scent lingering on his skin despite the shower, faint but unmistakable, as if they had marked him as theirs.

One night. That’s all it had taken for them to make him theirs. He got dressed before making his bed with the practiced precision of someone who’d been a soldier for a long time, the last trace of E smoothed out beneath the taut sheets. Moving on, his hand reached for the small, worn notebook on the nightstand—a habit, a piece of routine that kept him anchored. But today, even that felt different. His eyes flicked over the scribbled notes—reminders and plans for his lectures—but they barely registered. His mind was still caught in the gravity of E’s laughter, the way it had curled around him, warm and dangerous.

Logan made his way to his desk and sat down, the notepad now forgotten in his grip. No matter how many mornings he’d seen after tangled nights, none of them carried this. None of them ever left him feeling whole the way E had, even if just for a fleeting moment—before the hollowness crept in as soon as they were gone.

His reflection caught his eye in the mirror: rougher around the edges than usual, but still carrying that stubborn resilience he never seemed to lose. Tugging at his shirt collar, he adjusted the fit of his flannel, then ran a hand through his hair to push it back into place. A breath shuddered out of him as he wrestled the knot in his chest, forcing himself to focus.

With one final glance, he made sure everything was in order—boots laced tight, notepad folded neatly on the desk’s edge, though the ghost of last night still clung to the room. He inhaled deeply, the faint scent of E lingering in the air, uninvited in the way it stirred memories too raw, too exposing.

The space felt emptier than it should, as though a piece of it—and him—had left with them. Closing his eyes briefly, he centered himself, then rose and made his way down the hallway to the mansion’s first floor.

The hum of early morning voices grew louder as he neared the kitchen. He could already pick out Jean’s quiet laughter and Scott’s steady, self-assured tone. The familiar sounds grounded him, even as a faint tug of anticipation simmered at the edges of his thoughts.

When he entered, the conversation quieted momentarily as their eyes turned toward him. Jean and Scott shared a glance, surprised to see him this late; Logan was usually here long before either of them. He nodded their way—silent, but not unfriendly—before crossing to the counter. Grabbing the coffee pot, he filled his mug and brought it close, the steam curling in the air.

He was still lost in thought when E entered, their stride confident, eyes sharp with mischief. The air shifted the moment they stepped in, crackling like an unspoken challenge. Their smile was subtle, but unmistakably smug, as if they owned the space.

“Morning, everyone,” they greeted, their voice silk, effortless. Two of the three people they addressed didn’t seem entirely comfortable, their wariness obvious, but E wore their nonchalance like armor, as though they couldn’t care less. They moved through the room with practiced ease, every motion so deliberate, so fluid, that it made Logan’s pulse quicken in a way that used to irritate him—but now, it simply thrilled him.

They made this masquerade look effortless.

Their eyes met his, a flicker of shared understanding passing between them before they glanced away, the moment hidden beneath a mask of casual indifference.

They reached for the coffee pot, their fingers brushing Logan’s where his hand rested casually on the counter. The touch was fleeting, something no one else in the room would notice, but it left a warmth that lingered between them. The slight squeeze they gave him was enough to send a silent message: brace yourself. His jaw tensed, but he masked it with a sip, his gaze hardening as he prepared for whatever came next.

“Black coffee again, Logan?” E’s voice broke the silence, playful and biting. “You ever consider trying something with flavor?” They poured themselves a cup, their smirk deepening as they glanced over their shoulder at him.

Logan’s response was automatic, rough, as he played along, letting them lead the dance of their back and forth. “Coffee’s coffee. Doesn’t need all that extra crap.”

E’s eyebrows arched, their grin widening as if they’d caught him off-guard with a well-placed jab. “Ah, a man of simple tastes. Should’ve figured.”

He met their eyes, a silent challenge sparking between them. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The words came out with an edge, but there was a tension in his chest that had nothing to do with annoyance.

“Oh, nothing.” E shrugged, taking a sip of their coffee, their eyes dancing with amusement. “Just that I thought someone with your experience might be a bit more adventurous.”

Logan felt the tension coil tight in his chest, the line between reality and performance starting to blur. He forced his expression into one of irritation, letting a spark of anger flicker in his eyes. Leaning into the feeling to give the act weight, he set his mug down with a deliberate thud.

“Careful there, sweetheart. Last time someone thought they had me figured out, it didn’t end too pretty,” he said, letting the hint of a growl seep into his voice. Jean and Scott exchanged glances, brows raising as they picked up on the shift in atmosphere.

E’s smirk grew sharper, almost daring. “Wouldn’t dream of it, old man,” they retorted, a flick of mock respect in their tone that had the others in the room shifting uncomfortably. Jean's eyes darted between them, curiosity turning into concern as the tension thickened.

Logan clenched his jaw, leaning forward just enough to invade E’s space, his face a mask of barely-contained fury. “Old man? You better watch your mouth or I’ll remind you why you don’t cross me, kid.”

Scott’s gaze snapped to them, mouth opening to intervene, but E beat him to it. They laughed, a sharp, biting sound that bounced off the walls and made Logan’s skin prickle. “Oh, I’m terrified,” they said, their words dripping with sarcasm. “Please, Logan, save the dramatics. You’re not as intimidating as you think, kitty cat.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, and Logan felt his pulse thunder in his ears. He reminded himself that this was part of the plan, that E’s sharp jabs were calculated. But damn if it didn’t cut deeper than he’d expected. He caught the brief flicker of apology in their eyes, barely noticeable to anyone but him.

Jean’s voice cut through the standoff, soft but steady. “Is everything okay here?” she asked, trying to smooth the tension with a touch of authority.

Logan didn’t break eye contact with E as he replied, “Peachy, Jeannie. Just a friendly morning chat.”

“Yeah, friendly,” E added, their tone so falsely sweet it made Jean’s frown deepen.

Scott’s eyes narrowed, suspicion clear as day. “Well, if you two are done, maybe we can all get on with our morning without the theatrics.”

Logan bit back a retort, taking a step back and grabbing his coffee cup. The room was stifling now, and he could feel the way E’s presence tugged at him even as they stood apart. “Yeah. We’re done,” he muttered before turning his back and leaving, letting the act settle like a stone in his gut.

Behind him, he heard E’s soft chuckle, a practiced sound meant to sting, and it did. But they’d both agreed—this was the way it had to be. And so, the distance began.

Logan spent the hours following the kitchen fight lost in his thoughts, the conversation replaying in his mind like a broken record. He knew it wasn’t real—that much was clear—but E’s words had hit harder than he’d anticipated. Not because there was any truth to them, but because they came from them. A part of him hated how it lingered, stirring something raw inside. He wasn’t the type to let something like this gnaw at him. He was the Wolverine, damn it. But it still dug under his skin.

He tried to shake it off, but the feeling wouldn’t fade. He needed to see them. To remind himself it was all just an act.

By the time he reached the library, the weight in his chest had grown unbearable. E was hunched over a stack of papers at one of the long oak tables, their focus intent on something that looked law-related. Figures. Logan leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching them. He was always amazed by how easily they could shut everything else out. He let the silence hang for a beat before pushing himself off the door and making his way inside.

E glanced up when he approached, the brief flicker of relief in their eyes catching him off guard. “Logan,” they said softly, setting the pen down. The words were warm, but there was something unreadable beneath them.

“Got a minute?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost careful.

“For you? Always,” E replied, their smile faint but genuine.

Logan sat across from them, his rough hands resting on the polished surface of the table. He didn’t quite know how to start, what to say, but when he opened his mouth, the words just poured out of him, unguarded. “That stuff in the kitchen,” raw emotion coated the rough edges of his voice, “I know it’s all for show, but… damn, you didn’t hold back.”

E winced slightly, their gaze dropping to their notes. “I know. I’m sorry. I hated saying it.” They took a breath, their eyes meeting his again, darker now, their expression tight. “Unfortunately, we might need to take it up a notch. Be even more convincing.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his voice casual. “It’s fine. I ain’t gonna lose sleep over it.” He shot them a look, though—he wasn’t convinced by his own lie. Not entirely. “But if we need to go harder… what’s the plan?”

E’s eyes searched his face for a moment, their fingers brushing against his where they rested on the table. It was brief, but it caught him off guard, something warm and unspoken passing between them. “We make it meaner,” they said quietly, their voice low, tinged with a hint of regret. “You push me, I push back harder. We have to make them believe it’s personal.”

Logan nodded slowly, though the idea of making it worse, of biting deeper, didn’t sit well with him. “You sure you’re up for that?” he asked, his voice gruff despite himself.

“If it means we’ll have better days, then yeah, I am.” E’s hand lingered for a moment longer, their thumb tracing an absent pattern on his skin. The small touch, so simple but with the weight of everything unspoken, grounded him, a silent reassurance amid the chaos they were building. “Are you?”

The question hung in the air, and for a second, the noise of the world outside the library faded away. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest releasing with the breath. “Yeah. I’m in.”

A slight twitch at the corners of E’s lips. There was something almost tender in their gaze, a fleeting softness. But that moment was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching. Their expression shifted in an instant—like a switch had been flipped, delicate features hardening suddenly—and their hand pulled away from his, curling into a fist.

Before Logan could react, they smacked him across the face with a loud slap, the sound echoing in the quiet library. “Who the hell do you think you are, Howlett?” E snapped, their voice cold and cutting, each word like the crack of a whip. “Talking to me like that? You think you can just come in here and throw your weight around?”

Logan blinked, the sting of the slap still fresh on his skin, but it wasn’t just the pain that lingered—it was the venom in their tone, keen and raw, that struck deeper. A flicker of heat stirred low in his gut, unbidden and maddening, the kind of sensation that set his instincts on edge. Damn it. He hated how his body responded to the bite of it, to the fire in their eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt this twisted pull, the way pain and tension tangled together in a way that left him craving more.

Before Logan could react, they smacked him across the face with a loud slap, the sound echoing in the quiet library.

His gaze flicked toward the doorway, catching Hank standing there, a stack of books balanced in his arms. The doctor’s expression was frozen in surprise, his wide eyes darting between them. Logan forced the heat back, burying it under a scowl.

Without missing a beat, his face twisted into a scowl, his jaw tightening as he played along. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you outta here, witch,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, practically vibrating with barely-contained intensity.

E scoffed, their eyes blazing as they leaned into the act. “Oh, don’t you worry, you rabid dog. I’m leaving. I can’t stand to breathe the same air as you right now.”

They swept up their papers in one sharp motion, the sound of rustling edges filling the heavy silence. Their shoulder brushed his as they stormed past, the contact deliberate and forceful. Logan didn’t move, his hands curling into fists on the table, every muscle in his body taut as he fought the urge to call after them—or worse, follow.

Hank stood rooted to the spot, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to interject, but whatever words he had died before they could form. He stared after E, then shifted his gaze to Logan, clearly hesitant.

Finally, Logan broke the silence with a grunt, shoving his chair back roughly. The scrape of wood against the floor was loud in the stillness. “What’re you starin’ at, Hank?” His tone was gruff, laced with irritation, but the effort to keep the edge in his voice felt heavier than before.

Hank raised a single eyebrow, his composure sliding back into place like a well-worn mask. “I was about to ask if everything is all right, but… I suppose I already have my answer.”

Logan didn’t reply. Instead, he stalked toward the door, his steps heavy and deliberate, a growl rumbling low in his chest. The act was working. Too well, maybe. And for reasons he didn’t care to admit, that fact sat heavier in his gut than he liked.

Later that night, when sneaking into each other’s rooms wasn’t an option, they both found themselves in the forest clearing. Neither had planned it, but some unspoken pull brought them to this spot, far from the prying eyes and ears of the mansion. It was theirs—a sanctuary untouched by the chaos of their daily lives.

The clearing was quiet, the kind of stillness only the forest could hold. The soft rustle of leaves danced with the cool night breeze, and a sliver of moonlight spilled onto the grass, casting long shadows across the ground. Logan stood a few paces away, rolling his shoulders as he circled E, his gaze locked onto theirs. There was no need for pretense out here.

“You sure you wanna do this tonight?” he asked, his voice low and gruff, carrying a hint of concern that he couldn’t quite mask.

E’s lips curved into a smirk, their stance relaxed, yet poised. “What’s wrong, pretty boy? Afraid I might embarrass you?”

Logan snorted, his mouth twitching into a brief grin. “Ain’t no chance of that, darlin’. But you ain’t exactly fresh off the bench after today.”

“And you are?” E shot back, lunging forward with a quick burst of energy. Logan sidestepped with ease, their movements more familiar to him now. They twisted on their heel, throwing a jab that he caught mid-air, his hand closing firmly around their wrist. A shiver ran down their spine, stoking their hunger in the most exquisite way.

“Point taken,” he muttered, his voice tinged with amusement as he pulled them closer, his smirk returning.

The sparring unfolded in a steady rhythm, their movements fluid and purposeful. It wasn’t just a fight—it was a conversation in motion, a silent exchange of trust and challenge. Each strike, dodge, and counter carried its own cadence, a private language spoken in the dead of the night.

By the time they called it, E was sprawled on the grass, breathless and flushed, sweat glistening on their skin in a way that made Logan’s gaze linger a moment too long. He dropped down beside them, leaning his back against a tree, his eyes roaming over them as a heat that coiled low in his gut tightened, stirred by the sight of them so alive, so unguarded under the moonlight.

“You gotta work on that right hook,” he teased, the grin on his face softening the edge of his words.

E huffed, propping themselves up on their elbows. “I landed it once.”

“Once don’t make a streak, sweetheart,” Logan countered, his voice quieter now as his fingers brushed against theirs in the cool grass.

For a while, they both simply stayed there, the silence between them comfortable, filled only with the soft chirp of crickets and the distant whisper of leaves. Eventually, E sat up, leaning into Logan’s steady frame. Their hand rested lightly on his stomach, fingertips itching to slip beneath his shirt, but as his warmth enveloped them in a way that felt safe, grounding, they didn’t want to break the peace.

“It’s harder than I thought,” they said softly, the words barely breaking the stillness.

Logan turned slightly, his brow furrowing. “What is?”

“This whole thing.” E gestured vaguely at the forest, at him, at everything. “The fights. The secrecy. Hurting you. Hiding—just to be us. It’s only been one day, and I already hate it.”

Logan’s chest tightened, their words circling in his mind, refusing to settle. ‘Just to be us’. The unintentional confession lingered in the air between them, heavy and unspoken. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from the sparring session that had them speaking so openly—it was trust. Trust in him.

He looked down at them, sprawled on the grass, their breathing steadying. Their guard, that armor usually so rigid that centuries had forged, had slipped, leaving behind a version of them few ever got to see. There was a softness there, a vulnerability they rarely allowed, and it filled him with something between awe and a quiet ache. That they thought of them as a ‘us’, even subconsciously, stirred something deep in his chest—a mix of pride, longing, and adoration. That they trusted him enough to bare this side of them made his heart flutter in a way he hadn’t expected.

His hand moved without thought, his fingers brushing through their dark hair with a slow, deliberate reverence. The wavy strands slipped like silk between his fingers, tethering him in the moment, a silent reassurance that this wasn’t just a fleeting dream.

“It’s rough, Angel,” he said softly, his voice gravelly in the quiet. The nickname slipped out naturally, a little softer than usual, carrying more weight. He hesitated, letting the words sink in before adding, “But we’ll push through.”

E’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though their eyes remained fixed on his free hand, resting next to theirs on his stomach. “Yeah, I know,” they murmured. Their fingers shifted, brushing his for a moment before lacing them together. The contact felt soft, simple, yet charged with an unspoken understanding.

They exhaled, their voice tinged with frustration. “It would be easier if we could plan the fights, but we can’t. If we do, it’ll feel… off, staged. They’ll figure us out.”

Logan nodded slowly, his thumb sweeping over their knuckles in soothing circles. “You’re right. It’s gotta feel real… for them and for us.”

That last part slipped out before he could stop it, and he tensed, unsure if they’d catch the hidden meaning. E turned their head, meeting his gaze, their eyes searching his face. “And you’re okay with that?”

His lips quirked into a smirk, his defenses sliding back into place just enough. “I’ll live. Ain’t my first rodeo, sweetheart.” He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from their face, his hand lingering against their cheek before finding hers again. “‘Sides, I’ve had worse things thrown at me than words.”

They leaned into his touch, their eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before reopening, their expression softening. “I hate that it has to be this way,” they admitted quietly.

Logan let out a low, thoughtful hum, lowering his head to nuzzle lightly against theirs. “Me too, Eki,” he murmured almost hesitantly, his voice softer now. “But we’ll get through it. I know we will.”

It was the first time he called them this way. The name rolled off his tongue with a warmth he hadn’t intended, but it was there all the same—gentle and intimate, carrying more weight than he realized.

They stiffened ever so slightly, not out of discomfort but surprise. A flicker of something unfamiliar sparked in their chest at the sound of it, a flutter, and a quiet warmth bloomed around it as they tilted their head to glance at him, lips parting as though to respond, but no words came. The urge to kiss him, to lick and nip at his lips gripped their gut, but they couldn’t, not without harming him.

Instead, they stayed like that, the night wrapping around them both, the stars scattered above like silent witnesses. E sighed, leaning back into him, their head resting against his chest, and he instinctively tightened his arm around them, pulling them closer.

“At least we’ve got this,” he murmured after a long stretch of silence, his voice low but heavy with meaning.

E smiled faintly, their hand squeezing his. “Yeah,” they whispered, warmth coating her tone. “This is nice.”

Logan bent his head, pressing a tender kiss to the top of hers, the gesture unhurried and sincere. “It is,” he agreed.

For now, this was enough. The clearing remained their sanctuary, a pocket of time untouched by the outside world, as they held onto each other, finding strength in their shared determination to see this through, no matter the cost. Whatever came next, they’d face it—together.

The fights had started happening more often—small sparks igniting without warning, flaring into roaring fires. Every little thing became an excuse to clash, to bruise each other for show. It was a performance they played, and the mansion was their stage. It didn’t matter what set them off—a look, a comment, a minor disagreement—each moment seemed to lead them to scrape against each other’s nerves. Yet, beneath the verbal clashes, another kind of pyre burned. This one was different, stoked not by anger but by their need to reassure each other once the curtain fell. It consumed them in private, a fire that was anything but an act.

Logan could feel it burning now, simmering, as he watched E coming out of Charles’ office. He’d been on his way to his first class of the day when his gaze landed on them, and an unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest. They looked composed, calculating as usual, every line of their body a testament to the control they wielded so effortlessly. It was that same composure that made something inside him twist—a familiar frustration, a gnawing at his gut that tainted the lukewarm affection he felt for them.

He hated it—not the ache in his gut or the sight of them, but the distance their polished exterior created. It was a weight he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried. Every time, it reminded him that what they had now wasn’t simple anymore, wasn’t easy. There was no space for softness between them, not in public, at least until further notice.

A sigh slipped between his lips, and he braced himself. This was the perfect opportunity, and he couldn’t let it pass. So he picked up the pace, his boots echoing in the hallway as he approached, each step deliberate. E’s eyes caught him, but they didn’t flinch, though there was a flicker of something unguarded flashing across their face—caution—just for a second before the mask fell back into place. Their poise didn’t falter, but Logan saw through it.

“Well, look who’s here,” he drawled, playing the part, his voice loud enough to draw attention, the edge in his tone slicing through the quiet of the hallway, freezing a passing student in their step. “The school’s puppet master.”

E turned to face him fully, their gaze sharp and unreadable as they assessed him. “Howlett,” they replied, stepping into their role, voice low and steady, but it carried a warning. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t start something here.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, I ain’t starting anything,” Logan shot back, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “Just calling it like I see it.” He took another step, closing the gap just enough to feel the tension coil tighter between them. “You’re always scheming, aren’t you? Pulling strings, keeping everyone in line.” His voice dropped lower, each word sharper than the last. “Bet half the staff’s already eating out of your hand.”

They straightened their stance, jaw tightened, the only crack in their armor. “I’m a qualified lawyer and I’m doing my job,” they said smoothly, though the words came out clipped. “You might want to try that sometime.”

Logan let out a bitter chuckle, his tone laced with mockery. “Oh, I’m workin’ just fine, sweetheart. Don’t need your little lectures. ‘Qualified lawyer,’ huh? Tell me—what’d you do to earn that title? Cheat your way through the bar exam? Maybe pay someone off?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, venomous growl, still very much audible to the audience gathering not far from them. “Or was it somethin’ else? Maybe you just slept your way to the top.”

The words hung in the air like a gunshot, the hallway falling deathly silent. A collective gasp rippled through the few students and staff watching the exchange, their eyes darting between the two of them, waiting for the fallout.

But against all odds, E’s face shifted, their expression a razor-thin mask of mockery, as if the words Logan had thrown at them were beneath consideration. “Watch your mouth, Howlett,” they snapped, voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Another comment like that, and I’ll have you up for sexual harassment.”

For a moment, everything froze. The crowd held its collective breath, the charged stillness pressing in on all sides. Logan’s fists clenched against his thighs, his muscles taut as if ready to snap, to strike at something—anything—to vent the storm that seemed to be brewing inside him. His breath hissed through his teeth, the silence surrounding them hanging thick in the air, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

A few feet from them, the door to Charles’ office swung open, its creak slicing through the tension, a subtle command that immediately stilled the room. The professor’s calm voice followed, cool and unyielding. “That will be enough.” The steady words cut through the sharp air with authority.

Every head turned as the headmaster entered the hallway, his gaze sweeping between Logan and E, the tension palpable. Logan stood bristling, fists still clenched at his sides, while E remained unflinching, their posture a perfect balance of defiance and composure.

“Logan,” Charles began, his tone measured but leaving no room for argument. “This behavior is unacceptable. Whatever concerns you have, this is not the way to address them. Such language and accusations have no place here.”

Logan’s jaw ticked, his teeth grinding together as he shot a glare toward Charles. “You don’t get it, Chuck—”

“On the contrary,” the Professor cut in, his voice firm but even. His eyes, clear and resolute, locked onto Logan’s with quiet strength. “I do. I know exactly what’s happening. But I’m telling you now: it stops here.”

The words hung in the air, firm. He shifted his gaze briefly to E, who stood calm and unaffected, their expression unreadable but charged with unspoken triumph. Logan’s chest rose and fell sharply, frustration seemingly rolling off him in palpable waves. His jaw remained clenched, posture taut, keen eyes betraying nothing but the simmering tension in his frame—a masterful performance that left no cracks for doubt.

Still, Charles continued, his focus shifting back to Logan with unwavering steadiness. “E has earned their place here,” he said, each word measured, deliberate. “Through hard work, expertise, and dedication. Qualities I expect you to recognize and respect. Whatever grievances you harbor, they do not justify this behavior.”

Logan’s chest tightened, his fists flexing against his thighs as a growl rumbled low in his throat. His eyes flicked to E, blazing with fiery defiance that looked convincingly real to anyone watching. Meanwhile, E, ever the picture of composure, turned to Charles with the ease of someone who knew how to play their cards perfectly.

“It’s fine, Professor,” they said smoothly, as if brushing off the situation as a passing annoyance. Their voice carried just enough weight to draw the attention of the onlookers. “Logan’s entitled to his opinions, misplaced as they are. My work isn’t for him to recognize—it’s for the students. That’s what matters.”

A faint murmur of admiration rippled through the crowd at E’s collected response. Logan’s shoulders tensed further, his apparent fury simmering just beneath the surface, but his eyes held a flicker of something almost imperceptible—an edge of satisfaction in how well the act was landing.

Charles nodded at E, his expression approving. “I admire your commitment, E. Truly. However,” he continued, turning back to Logan, his tone sharpening once more. “You are an example here, Logan,” he said, his words leaving no room for argument. “Consequently, I expect better from you. For now, I’d like a word with you in my office.”

Charles turned his wheelchair toward the open door, gesturing for Logan to follow. Logan didn’t move immediately, his body remaining taut, every muscle coiled as if ready to snap. His gaze stayed fixed on E for what felt like an eternity, the tension between them almost electric. But with a reluctant growl, he finally shifted, his heavy footsteps echoing as he stepped into the Professor’s office.

The door clicked shut behind him, its sound reverberating through the hall, leaving hushed conversations in its wake. The lawyer remained still for a moment, head held high, their composure unshaken as the students’ gazes lingered. Curiosity mingled with admiration in their stares, though none noticed the faint smirk curling at the corners of E’s lips—a near-invisible aura of triumph. Without a word, they turned, their stride deliberate, whispers of victory trailing behind them like shadows of their success.

In Charles’ office, the door clicked softly shut, sealing off the muffled hum of conversations outside. Logan crossed the room with deliberate strides, his arms folding tightly over his chest as he stopped in front of the Professor. His stance was taut, his brows drawn, and his jaw clenched—all the hallmarks of frustration expertly crafted into an act that, to anyone else, would seem entirely genuine.

Charles, ever composed, sat calmly behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him. His steady gaze met Logan’s, but the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes betrayed an edge of knowing that Logan instantly caught. The flicker of amusement sent a ripple of unease through Logan, but he held firm to the role he’d been playing all morning.

“My friend,” Charles began, his voice smooth and measured, “I think it’s time we discuss this little… performance of yours and E’s.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his expression hardening with practiced defiance. “If you’re about to tell me to cut it out—”

“Quite the contrary,” Charles interjected, his lips curling into the faintest smile. “You and E are charming idiots, both of you. In fact, I’d say your commitment is remarkable. The arguments are convincing. Almost too convincing.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, though the flicker of his gaze betrayed his uncertainty. “So, you knew?” he asked, his voice low, the usual gravel edged with something lighter—caught between annoyance and relief.

Charles leaned back slightly, his expression softening with patience. “Logan, I am a telepath. Nothing escapes me in this mansion. Did you really think something as… vibrant as your exchanges with E, along with your little settlement, would go unnoticed? I suspected it from the very beginning, but the confirmation came quickly enough.”

Logan shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, his discomfort evident as the mask slipped from his features. “If you think it’s a waste of time—”

“I think,” Charles cut in smoothly, “that it’s clever. Effective, even. E has been earning the team’s trust far faster than they would through conventional means. Their role as the so-called ‘victim’ in your dynamic has not only won them sympathy but also admiration. And your willingness to take on the role of the aggressor,” he added, his voice dipping with warmth, “speaks volumes about your character.”

Logan’s shoulders stiffened, the compliment settling awkwardly on him. He huffed, shifting his gaze to the side. “Ain’t about me, Chuck. It’s about makin’ sure they get a shot. At the whole thing.”

Charles inclined his head slightly, his smile softening further. “Even so, it takes courage to play the villain, especially when it places you under scrutiny. Your actions show a deeper understanding of what this team needs to thrive.”

Logan scoffed, the heat creeping up his neck. “Yeah, well, don’t go spreadin’ that around. Got a reputation to keep.”

Charles chuckled softly, his amusement tinged with genuine affection. “Your secret is safe with me, Logan. Just be sure to keep the balance. This arrangement, as effective as it is, can’t come at the expense of mutual respect—or your sanity.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his usual gruffness returning as he grumbled, “We’ll manage. E’s tough—they can take it. We both can.”

Charles nodded, his gaze steady. “I trust that you will. But remember, my friend, even the best performances need the occasional intermission.”

Logan snorted, the corner of his mouth tugging up in reluctant agreement. “Noted. Thanks for not blowin’ it up. Now, if we’re done here…” He gestured vaguely toward the door, his tone laced with impatience but lacking its usual edge. “Got a class to run.”

Charles waved him off with a faint smile. “Of course, my friend. Now, if you would, make a bit of a show as you leave. It wouldn’t do for the others to think you got off easy. And try not to terrorize anyone else on your way out.”

Logan smirked faintly at that before turning away. The tension in his body had eased slightly, and he inhaled deeply, drawing the simmering anger back into his gut to slip into character. With deliberate force, he yanked the door open, letting it slam against the wall. “Got it, boss,” he called over his shoulder, his voice cutting sharply through the room.

He stormed into the hallway, his boots striking the floor in heavy, echoing thuds. His scowl was perfectly crafted—a tempest of irritation that sent students scattering like leaves in a gale. Pale faces turned away, and whispers followed him, swirling in his wake.

Before he could make it far, a door to his right creaked open. A hand shot out, gripping his arm with surprising strength, and hauled him into the shadowy confines of a supply closet. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in near darkness.

“The hell—?” Logan grunted, his surprise barely surfacing before the familiar scent of spice and smoke wrapped around him. His glare softened in an instant, his lips twitching into something close to a smirk. “Eki?”

“Shh,” they whispered, amusement lacing their tone. They pressed closer, their presence steady and teasing. “You’re supposed to be in trouble, remember?”

Logan huffed, his eyes narrowing, though there wasn’t a trace of real irritation. “What’re you playin’ at?”

E leaned in, their hands trailing up his chest with slow, deliberate intent, pausing at his shoulders. The faint light slipping through the door’s edge slanted across their face, highlighting the wicked curve of their lips. “Heard you stomping out of Charles’ office like a wounded bear,” they murmured, their voice dripping with mock concern. “Thought I’d check on you.”

His brow twitched, the stubborn set of his jaw softening despite himself. “Checkin’ on me involves draggin’ me into a closet now?”

E’s smirk widened, their tone a mix of teasing and confidence. “Don’t act like you mind.”

Their movements were playful but edged with intent. They leaned closer, their breath warm against his neck as their lips hovered near his ear. The subtle press of their body against his sent a ripple of heat through him.

“Besides,” they whispered, their voice dipping lower, more intimate, “I wanted to tell you something.”

His hands moved to their hips without a second thought, his fingers settling naturally along the curve of their waist. “Yeah? What’s so damn important it can’t wait?”

E’s fingers drifted lazily over his arms, their touch light but electric. They tilted their head, their lips brushing his ear in a deliberate, measured move. “You were so hot when you yelled at me earlier,” they murmured, their voice a sultry purr. “All fire and fury… made me want to slap you again just to see what you’d do.”

Logan’s breath hitched, a low, guttural sound rumbling in his throat as his grip tightened on their hips, just enough to warn. “You’re playin’ with fire, Angel.”

E pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, their eyes glittering with mischief and challenge. They could feel his hunger feeding their own. “Am I?”

Their voice was soft but charged, every syllable a spark fanning the flames between them. The pull was undeniable, intoxicating, and he felt himself give in, just enough to let them reel him closer. Damn it—he didn’t want to fight it. Not this time.

“You’re lucky we’re in this closet,” Logan muttered, his voice dropping to a low, rough tone that sent a shiver through the confined space.

E tilted their head, their smirk softening into something warmer, almost tender. “Lucky?” they asked, their tone playful but carrying a trace of sincerity. “Or smart?”

A quiet huff of laughter escaped him, the tension in his hands loosening slightly as his grip softened on their hips. But his fingers stayed, a lingering reminder of the fire simmering beneath the surface. “Maybe both,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

The air between them grew heavy, thick with a charged anticipation neither seemed willing to shatter. Time stretched, every heartbeat amplifying the pull between them, the unspoken heat crackling like a wildfire ready to ignite, a match struck on a flint.

Then, faint footsteps drifted in from the hallway—distant, but clear enough to cut through the tension.

They both froze.

Logan recovered first, his voice steady, though the faint edge in it betrayed his reluctance. “We should get outta here before someone catches us.” Yet he didn’t pull away, didn’t move to create the distance his words suggested.

E leaned in, their lips brushing lightly against the crook of his neck. The touch was fleeting, soft as a feather, yet it left a mark he couldn’t ignore. They lingered for a moment before pulling back, their voice a low murmur. “Guess so. But next time, Howlett…”

They let the words hang for a beat, their smile teasing but layered with something deeper. “You owe me a real fight.”

Logan smirked, one corner of his mouth quirking up in that familiar, roguish way that made it impossible to tell if he was amused or intrigued. He cracked the door open, peering into the hallway. Satisfied the coast was clear, he glanced back, kissing their cheek quickly and murmuring, his voice a quiet promise, “You’ll get one.”

He stepped out into the corridor like nothing had happened, his boots striking the floor with a steady, confident rhythm. The sound echoed faintly as he disappeared down the hall.

E lingered in the closet for a moment, their smile turning satisfied as they watched him go. Something flickered in their expression—anticipation, maybe hope—as they slipped out in the opposite direction, the promise of what was to come hanging thick in the air between them.

The common room resonated softly with the chatter of Ororo, Marie, and Kitty. Seated in a cozy cluster around a small table, they were quietly planning their next trip to the mall. Kitty leaned in, her eyes sparkling as she described a sweater she had spotted online, while Ororo listened with a small, indulgent smile that softened her regal demeanor. Marie occasionally chimed in, her voice warm and lilting, adding her own thoughts about colors and styles.

A few feet from them, E sat upright on the couch in the center of the room, one leg crossed over the other, a cup of tea resting steadily on their knee. They watched the television with quiet focus, as the news anchor’s voice delivered updates about local events. There was a trace of weariness in their posture, the kind of exhaustion that settled behind the eyes and hinted at a long day spent poring over legal documents.

The moment Logan entered, the room’s tranquil atmosphere shifted. He strolled in with his usual swagger, the faint scent of cigar smoke trailing him. His flannel sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his sturdy forearms. His gaze swept the room briefly before he plopped down beside E without a word. His hand brushed their knee as he reached for the remote on the coffee table, a casual but deliberate motion that claimed space.

Click.

The news was replaced by the vibrant green of a baseball field, the roar of the crowd pouring from the speakers. A game was already in progress, the commentary animated and full of energy.

E let out an audible sigh, their lips pressing into a thin line. “Seriously?”

“Game’s on,” Logan replied casually, settling back into the couch, his feet on the coffee table, as if nothing were amiss. He didn’t even look at them, his eyes fixed on the screen, his poise relaxed but unyielding.

E’s hand shot out and snatched the remote from his grip, flicking the channel back to the news. “I was watching that.”

Logan straightened slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “Yeah? Well, now I’m watchin’ this.” He grabbed the remote again, switching it back to the game, with a decisive press on the TV clicker.

The tension between them crackled like static electricity, the air thick with unspoken challenge.

E’s jaw tightened. “Are you five? Grow up, Howlett.” With measured precision, they took the remote again and returned the television to the news. Their movements were controlled, deliberate, as though refusing to let Logan’s antics rattle them.

His eyes narrowed, his voice dropping as he leaned in. “You’ve got somethin’ to say, witch?” The word was low but sharp, cutting like a blade slipping between ribs.

Behind them, the conversation amongst the others faltered. Ororo exchanged a glance with Marie, and Kitty froze mid-laugh, her eyes darting between the two.

E didn’t rise to the bait, not at first. They simply set the clicker down on the arm of their side of the couch, their gaze fixed on Logan. “I’m trying to stay informed. Something you should try once in a while.”

Logan smirked, though there was no humor in it. “Informed, huh? That why I don’t see you in the Danger Room? Too busy stayin’ ‘informed’ to pull your weight?”

E’s expression hardened, their composure cracking slightly. “I’m not a soldier, Logan. I never signed up to be. Unlike you, I have an actual job that involves more than swinging claws or quoting history. Being a lawyer means spending hours—days, even—preparing cases, handling crises, and keeping this place from falling apart.”

“Sure,” Logan drawled, leaning back with an exaggerated shrug. “Real noble. But we’re all bustin’ our asses for this school, so what makes you so special that you can skip out on the hard work?”

E’s voice dropped, each word razor-sharp. “The work I do is just as important as your training sessions. Or do you think the contracts you sign, the legal battles I fight, and the protections I negotiate are meaningless?”

Logan chuckled darkly, the sound low and mocking. “Contracts don’t save lives when the next fight comes knockin’, sweetheart. Maybe you’re just lookin’ for excuses. It’s easier to sit on the sidelines than to get your hands dirty, huh?”

The jab landed. A flicker of hurt flashed in E’s eyes, quickly masked by steely resolve. They inhaled deeply, their voice steady but heavy with disappointment. “I thought we were on the same side, Logan.” The weight of their words hung in the air, each syllable a quiet accusation. “Guess I was wrong.”

The room’s silence was suffocating, the atmosphere unbearable.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching on his thighs, and for a moment, it seemed like he might back down. Instead, he stood abruptly, his gaze hard and unyielding. “You don’t know the first thing about loyalty.”

The words hit like a hammer, reverberating in the heavy silence that followed. Before anyone could react, Logan turned on his heel and strode out, his boots thudding against the wooden floor with each step.

E remained seated, their face unreadable save for the faint trembling of their hand as they gripped the arm of the couch. After a moment, they set their tea down with careful precision and stood, smoothing their clothes as if to steady themselves.

“Wow,” Kitty murmured, breaking the silence. “What the hell’s his problem?”

Ororo’s gaze lingered on E, sympathy softening her sharp features. “Are you okay?”

The lawyer managed a tight smile, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “I’m fine. Thanks.” Their voice was composed, but there was a brittleness to it, like glass under strain. With a measured motion, they reached for their teacup, lifting it carefully as if it provided some small anchor in the wake of the exchange. “I should…get back to work.”

Without another word, E left the room. Their posture remained straight and unwavering, but there was something fragile in their steps, as if they carried the weight of Logan’s words with them. Behind them, Ororo, Marie, and Kitty exchanged quiet glances, their subdued chatter shifting to murmurs about Logan’s behavior. They kept their voices low, but their concern lingered in the air, tangible and unresolved, as though the room itself hadn’t quite recovered from the tension.

The Danger Room’s hum vibrated softly in the air as the team gathered, the younger members shifting with barely contained energy while the veterans stood with their usual aura of quiet confidence. Charles’s voice rang out, calm and commanding, as he outlined the day’s objective: clearing one floor of a simulated building of hostile threats and rescuing the hostage.

As usual, people paired off naturally. Scott and Jean exchanged a glance, already stepping into position together. Ororo teamed up with Kurt, offering a serene nod in his direction. Kitty, Marie, and Bobby gravitated toward each other, chatting quietly in low voices.

That left E and Logan, awkwardly standing in the cleared center of the room, where the group had split into smaller teams around them. The silence between them bristled with unspoken tension.

Scott frowned, his visor glinting under the cold light. “Are we seriously pairing them together?”

“They did well during the trial last week,” Charles reminded him, his tone firm yet patient. “Better than anyone expected. It only makes sense for them to try working together again. And perhaps channeling that aggression as a team will mend some of it. ”

Skeptical glances passed between the team members. Logan crossed his arms, his stance as rigid as stone. E stood beside him, their posture stiff and guarded, though their eyes darted toward the others, catching every raised brow and murmured whisper. At least they didn’t sense outright hostility from the rest of the group, which was a small relief amidst the tension.

Finally, Charles’s voice cut through the room with quiet authority. “Begin the simulation.” The words were directed at Hank in the command center, where Charles was now heading as the machinery of the room began to hum louder.

The walls around the X-Men and E shifted, morphing into the interior of a crumbling high-rise. The floor beneath their feet groaned ominously, and the sound of distant gunfire echoed from somewhere above.

Logan glanced at E as they moved cautiously down a simulated hallway. “We take the stairs. Blitz ‘em all the way to the hostage. End it quick.���

E raised an eyebrow. “Blitz? That’s your plan? You think we’re going up against a horde of mindless zombies, or did I miss the memo?”

Logan growled low in his throat. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t have time for your lawyer talk. You want to win, you hit hard and fast.” He punctuated his words by striking his left palm with his right fist.

E stopped mid-step, their gaze catching on the floor layout displayed on a nearby wall. They gestured toward it, a hint of strategy sparking in their tone. “Or, we could think for more than two seconds. See this?” They pointed to a narrow corridor on the map. “That’s a bottleneck—perfect for an ambush. We lure them in, control the fight, and pick them off one by one.”

“You mean drag it out,” Logan muttered.

“Ororo?” E called out over their shoulder. “What’s your take?”

The white haired woman, walking a few feet behind with Kurt, tilted her head thoughtfully. “It’s a sound strategy. Fighting smart is just as important as fighting hard.”

Jean chimed in, her voice measured and calm. “Agreed. Brute force only gets you so far. For all we know, there could be fifty of them in there.”

Logan turned to Scott, silently hoping for backup, but Scott merely folded his arms and gave him a look—a pointed one, like Logan had just suggested fighting blindfolded. Even Kurt’s tail twitched awkwardly, as though uncomfortable with Logan’s stubbornness.

“Fine,” Logan grumbled at last, his voice dripping with reluctance. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Good choice,” E quipped, already moving ahead.

Scott stepped forward, his visor glinting in the dim light as he addressed the team. “Here’s the plan. Storm and Nightcrawler, you’re on decoy duty—draw their attention toward the main corridor. Shadowcat, Rogue, and Iceman, you’re the scout team. Find the hostage and get them to safety. Jean, Wolverine, and E, you’re with me at the choke point. We’ll hold the line and clean up any stragglers.”

The group split seamlessly into their designated roles. Ororo and Kurt advanced toward the wide-open hall at the far end of the floor, preparing to lure the enemy, while Logan, E, and Jean moved into position at the narrow corridor for the ambush.

Ororo stepped into the open, her eyes faintly glowing as she summoned a swirling gale. A deafening crash echoed through the space as she hurled a metal filing cabinet into a crumbling wall, scattering debris and drawing immediate shouts from the mercenaries.

Kurt vanished with a soft bamf, reappearing behind two guards. Before they could react, he disarmed one with a sharp tail swipe and incapacitated the other with a swift punch. A third guard spun toward him, but a gust of wind sent the man’s weapon skidding out of reach.

“That’s our cue,” Ororo murmured, retreating into the shadows. Kurt followed, the sound of their retreat baiting the mercenaries into pursuit.

At the bottleneck, Logan crouched low, claws unsheathed, his muscles taut as he prepared for the enemy to funnel in. E stood to his left, chakrams glinting in the dim light as they adjusted their stance.

“Remember: controlled chaos,” E said lightly. “Try not to go feral too fast.”

“Funny,” Logan muttered, his eyes narrowing as the first wave of mercenaries rounded the corner.

Jean stood behind them, her focus locked as she created a shimmering telekinetic barrier to intercept the inevitable projectiles. The mercenaries opened fire, but their bullets froze mid-air, suspended like raindrops caught in time.

Logan surged forward, slashing through their ranks with brutal precision. E darted to his side, chakrams spinning in graceful arcs that deflected bullets and struck with unerring accuracy. A guard raised his weapon, only for one of E’s metal disks to slice through it before returning to their hand in a fluid motion.

“Not bad for a desk jockey,” Logan muttered, slicing through another mercenary with a savage sweep of his claws.

E smirked, ducking under a wild swing and planting a chakram squarely into an enemy’s knee. “Thanks, lumberjack. Didn’t know you even knew what a desk was.”

Logan snorted, sidestepping an incoming blow. “I know plenty. Like how not to overthink in a fight.”

E shot him a sharp look, flicking their chakram with a flourish that knocked a gun from another guard’s hand. “Overthink? Sorry, some of us like to use both brains and brawn. It’s called multitasking.”

“Focus!” Jean snapped, her barrier flickering briefly under the hail of bullets as she reinforced it with a concentrated burst of telekinetic energy.

“Scout team, status?” Scott’s voice crackled over the comms.

Kitty’s reply was calm but clipped. “Hostage located. Three guards in the room. Reinforcements heading this way. We can’t engage yet—too many nearby.”

“Understood,” Scott replied. “We’ll clear the path soon.”

“Yep, soon would be great,” Bobby’s voice chimed in, followed by the faint sound of ice cracking.

Scott turned his attention to Ororo and Kurt. “Decoy team, double back and draw reinforcements away from their position. Make it loud and chaotic.”

Ororo gave a nod and turned to Kurt with a playful smile. “Time for a distraction?”

He reached out, grabbing her hand with his blue-skinned one, his smile matching hers. “Let’s make it count.” They both vanished in another one of his characteristic bamfs.

The team at the bottleneck only heard the distant sounds of chaos—shouts, clangs, and the occasional explosion—as the decoy team created their diversion.

“Chaotic enough for you?” Kurt’s voice crackled over the comms.

“Nice work, keep going,” Scott instructed.

Not far from him, the fight intensified. More mercenaries poured in, Logan's large frame crowding them into chaotic clusters in the narrow corridor. One lobbed a grenade, but E reacted quickly, their chakrams spinning out and deflecting it into the wall. The explosion sent a shockwave rippling through the space, leaving E’s ears ringing but sparing the team from serious harm.

Logan growled, claws carving through the crowd with brutal precision. “They just keep comin’,” he muttered, elbowing a guard in the face before slashing another across the chest.

“Almost like they’re programmed to, huh?” E quipped, catching one of their chakrams mid-spin and flicking it toward an approaching guard.

Scott’s optic blast tore through the adjacent wall, collapsing part of the corridor and forcing the mercenaries into an even tighter cluster.

“Nice,” E muttered, resetting their chakrams on the hooks at the back of their shirt.

Logan, now drenched in sweat, glanced over his shoulder at Jean. “Think you can drop somethin’ on ‘em?”

Jean nodded, her telekinetic energy flaring as she wrenched a section of the crumbling ceiling down onto the remaining guards. Dust and debris filled the air, muffling the mercenaries’ groans as they scrambled to recover.

“All clear on our end,” Scott called into the comms. “Scout team, you’re up. Decoy team, escort them back.”

On cue, the younger team members escorted the hostage out, covered by Ororo and Kurt. Together, they retreated under the relentless flow of enemies, making their way to the staircase—the designated extraction point according to the simulation.

The high-rise dissolved back into the metallic walls of the Danger Room as the simulation halted.

“Nice work, team,” Charles’s voice echoed from the speakers above.

Logan rolled his shoulders, claws retracting with a metallic snakt. “Would’ve been faster my way.”

E wiped a bit of sweat from their brow, tossing him a dry look. “Faster, maybe. Messier, definitely.”

Logan smirked, something feral flickering in his eyes. “I’ll give you messy, sweetheart.”

Before E could retort, Logan lunged.

Gasps rippled through the team as Logan’s massive frame barreled toward the lawyer. But instead of bracing for impact, E moved.

They dodged to the side, fluid as water, sliding past his outstretched arms. Logan whirled around, but E was already behind him, darting away like a shadow slipping through cracks.

Their movements became a dance—graceful, calculated, almost mesmerizing. E sidestepped his strikes, ducked under his swipes, their bare feet gliding across the floor with uncanny ease. A faint smile tugged at their lips, their eyes alight with challenge.

Logan, by contrast, was all force and fury, each swing of his arms carrying enough power to send anyone else sprawling. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch them.

“Quit dancin’, witch,” he growled, his voice rough and strained.

“You quit swinging, old bear,” E shot back, twisting out of his grasp once more.

The onlookers watched in stunned silence. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like Logan was furious, his teeth bared and his movements unrelenting. But the subtle nuances of his posture—how his shoulders stayed loose, how his strikes never fully committed—told a different story.

And, of course, E saw everything.

Finally, Logan managed to grab them, his arms encircling their waist in a vice grip. He pressed them firmly against his chest, his breathing heavy, his pulse hammering against theirs.

From the outside, it looked like he wanted to crush them. But up close, the heat of his gaze burned with something far more intense than anger.

E’s breath hitched, and they fought to keep a smirk from curling their lips. Instead, their fingers brushed against his chest, reluctant to break the embrace, but they needed the show to keep going so they pushed him back with all their strength, slipping free of his hold.

“That’s enough!” Charles’s voice cut through the tension like a whip as he entered the room again.

Logan stepped back, his chest heaving, though the predatory gleam in his eyes didn’t fade. “Logan. E. My office. Now!”

The rest of the team stared as the two of them followed Charles’s voice toward the exit, leaving the charged silence of the Danger Room behind.

“Am I the only one who thinks that was…” Kitty began, searching for the right word.

“Terrifying?” Kurt offered.

“Hot,” Marie muttered under her breath, earning an amused eye roll from Ororo.

But no one dared say anything else.

Charles sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled as he regarded Logan and E with a calm but pointed gaze. They stood across from him, arms crossed in a near-mirror of each other, just as they had during their discussion about Logan’s contract weeks ago. However, the tension between them now was markedly less volatile than it had been back then.

“You did well today,” Charles began, his tone measured. “The training session proved that the team has accepted you, E. They trust your skills and instincts. However…”

Logan shifted his weight with a grunt, already sensing where this was headed.

“…you both need to work on mending the… tension that you’ve been projecting toward each other,” Charles continued.

E raised an eyebrow, their lips twitching with mild amusement.

Charles’s gaze flicked between them. “You’ve played this ruse of animosity so convincingly that it’s starting to unsettle the team. If they find out you’ve been misleading them, it could lead to feelings of betrayal, even resentment, and undermine all the progress you’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

“Great,” Logan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “So what, we’re supposed to just stop fightin’ all at once?”

“Not quite,” Charles replied with a small smile. “I suggest spacing out these little arguments. Gradually lessen the intensity. Make it appear as though you’ve come to a mutual understanding over time.”

E exchanged a look with Logan, their shared exasperation reflected in his expression. “Honestly? That sounds like the most exhausting part of this entire charade.”

“No kidding,” Logan grunted. “It’s been weeks of butting heads during the day, and I hate it.”

“You hate it?” E shot back, their voice dripping with mock incredulity. “Try being on the receiving end of your constant growling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re no picnic either, sweetheart.”

Charles raised a hand, silencing them before the exchange could escalate further. “I trust the two of you can manage for the sake of the team.”

Both of them nodded, though they shared a small, sheepish smile.

“Good. That will be all for now.”

As they walked down the hall, the guarded tension dissolved entirely now that they were alone, replaced by an easy companionship they both found natural. The faint murmur of voices drifted from the dining room, and both of them slowed instinctively, ears pricking as snippets of conversation reached them.

“I think we’ve been too hard on E,” Marie was saying, her tone tinged with guilt. “They’ve got good instincts, and they’re a damn good strategist.”

“Agreed,” Ororo added. “Their fighting style is intriguing—fluid, adaptive. We could all learn something from that approach.”

Hank’s thoughtful voice joined in. “I did some research on kalaripayattu, their preferred martial art. It’s not just excellent for coordination but also sharpens the mind. A fascinating discipline.”

“You’re all missing the bigger picture,” Scott interjected, his voice edged with frustration. “Logan’s the real problem here. He’s been acting irrationally for weeks.”

Kurt spoke next, his tone hesitant but sympathetic. “He has not left the mansion in a long time. Perhaps he is… how do you say… getting cabin fever?”

“I personally think Logan is an ass, and that’s not gonna change overnight,” Scott added, drawing a few chuckles. “It’s just his basic instincts resurfacing.”

“Or maybe it’s some kind of twisted mating ritual?” Bobby quipped. “Am I the only one who noticed how they were watching each other during that fight? I couldn’t tell if they were going to kill each other or just have sex on the floor.”

Laughter rippled through the room, and Jean’s voice was the next to cut through. “I think he’s taking it out on E because they’re both such strong personalities. And, let’s face it, they couldn’t be more opposite if they tried.”

Logan and E exchanged a glance in the hallway, a slow, knowing look passing between them. A faint smile tugged at both their lips, underlining the shared triumph. Mission accomplished.

Neither of them said a word at first as they continued walking, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. As they reached the next corridor, Logan glanced around, checking to see if they were alone. Then, with a swift motion, he leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to their cheek, his voice low as he murmured, “See you later, Angel.”

The warmth of his words and the kiss lingered as he turned and strode toward his room, leaving E to stand there for a moment, their fingers brushing the spot he’d kissed. They watched him disappear around the corner before turning on their heel and heading in the opposite direction, a small, lingering smile playing on their lips.

To be continued…

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

✨ Masterlist ✨

Don’t forget to follow the tags “Devilish Desires” and “xpressit writings” to stay tuned for the next chapters 😁

🔖 @quillycrow

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Nine

( Benny Miller x F!Reader )

SLUTWEAR / SQUIRTING/CUMSHOTS / PROSTITUTION/CAMMING/SEX-FOR-SERVICE

Summary: After learning that Benny is on Only Fans, he wants you to have a starring role in one of his videos. (Honestly, one of my favourite prompts on @absurdthirs's list!)

Warnings: Mentions of food, sex on camera, biting, oral - female receiving, fingering, squirting, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please, even Benny would tell you), rough sex, a little begging, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.7k

Notes: I feel like I should give a little back story to the unprotected sex. In the ‘terms and conditions’ you joked about with Santiago, you did state what contraception you’re on and the boys know. You plus the boys are clean STI wise, you all got checked before entering the relationship.

Always use a condom irl for additional protection.

“You’re kidding.”

Benny had taken you to a diner not far from the match, his post-fight ritual of maple soaked pancakes very much needed. The pair of you were laughing over how you met, how your friends fawned over him, unable to keep their hands off his glistening abs but it was you who caught his attention. You who was shaking your head in disbelief at your friends’ adoration for a man they’d just watch fight but maybe now, things were making sense.

“You do not have an Only Fans,” you point your fork at him.

His smile broadens, “Of course I do.”

You wouldn’t put it passed him.

Benny’s physique is always in top form because of MMA, his sexual stamina off the charts if you compare it to the rest of the boys, he was energetic and charismatic and also packing.

Doing the math, it all adds up.

“Then show me.”

He rummages to find his phone out of his pocket, his thumb swiping before tapping the screen and handing it over.

At this time of night, there was rarely another soul in the place yet you still felt the need to hunch your frame and shield the screen from anyone else’s view. His top banner was a ridiculously good photo of his ass, his profile a backwards cap with a little embroidered white bunny. His profile reading:

‘Let’s work out together ;) Have a glimpse at my private nudes, post work-out showers and see what I can do with my hands! DM a request that tickles my fancy and you’ll be one lucky lady!’

“Why’d you start?”

“It was lockdown, I was bored and heard all these people mentioning it. When it paid for my rent that month, I didn’t find myself wanting to stop.”

You had no qualms with his reasoning.

“Gym Bunny?”

“I dunno, people liked watching me work out,” he sipped on his water, “and I fuck like a Duracell bunny so…”

You choke on your hot chocolate.

He watches as you try to compose yourself, hiding his smile as he shovelled more sweet, fluffy sponge into his mouth.

You were quick to flip the phone screen to the table before the waitress came to see if you were ok, you politely waved her off, Benny thanking her for bringing another glass of water. You attention returns to the phone, unable to stop looking.

Out of all the photos and videos, you realise there’s never been anyone else, your expression scrunches.

“What are you thinking, darlin’?”

He never pronounced the ‘g’.

“You’ve never had anyone else in your stuff.”

“I had plenty of offers to partake, never found a good enough match until you.”

You blush, breaking your eyes away as you pass his phone back to him. He sighed, slipping his hand into yours before it could escape, a thumb tracing on your knuckles. You met his eyes again, the colour brighter from the neon lights that beat down on him. His one cheekbone is pink and puffy with the swell of a punch, the eyebrow dressed with slithers of plaster.

You stretch your other hand, the cuff of Benny’s hoodie engulfing the palm you press to his injuries. You’ve seen worse on him, he’s seen worse than you could imagine but there he was still smiling.

“Just, think about it, yeah?”

“I will do, Bunny.”

He chuckles, leaning into you touch.

—

It was your next Saturday with Benny that you agreed to take part in one of his videos and Benny didn’t bring it up again until you spoke about it first, he listened to your terms.

“I don’t want my face on camera.”

“Easy, we’ll shoot it at an angle that cuts off you head, if your face is shown at any point, I’ll blur it out.”

“Wait, you know how to do that?”

He nodded, “One of the first things I learnt.”

You’d ask about that another time.

“I also don’t want to fuck in your gym.”

“We’ll take photos in the gym, fuck in the bedroom.”

“Can I wear the hat?”

“No, I wear the hat.”

You pout.

“I’ll take a couple of pictures with you wearing it once we’re done.”

You smile, bobbing on the balls of your feet. The initial nerves you had with this had spread to make something more exciting, you had been giddy since you stepped through the front door, much to Benny’s delight. You’d done exactly what he asked and arrived in your best sports gear, the ones that show off your silhouette.

“Anything else?”

“What are we gonna call each other?”

“Well, you can barely string a sentence together when I fuck y—“

You swat his chest and he pretends like it hurts.

“How about I call you Bunny?”

You blink, “But that’s you.”

He shrugged, “Maybe you could be the Bunny to my Gym.”

Your brows knot, head cocking to one side.

“Yeah, I heard it.”

Benny kissed you firmly on the lips before excusing himself, he would do a light workout to ‘get the glow’ and set up the space for a shoot, he’d call you when he was done. You tried to find ways of distracting yourself, wandering around the rooms of his house because you’d never received a formal tour and then you remembered this was the longest time you’d been in his place. He always took you out somewhere, a bar, a restaurant, the diner, anywhere but here.

Though you think you’d like to stay here much more.

Here was homely, cosy, decorated with framed photos of family and friends, little touches that notes Benny underneath that jack-the-lad personality.

You jump when he calls you.

Gripping the door handle, you notice your hand shaking a little.

He was glowing alright.

Sweat clung to each defined muscle, soaked through to his vest, his shorts pulled higher to display his thighs. Droplets fell from the ends of his dirty blonde locks hidden by his signature backwards cap.

He laughed, coming to you to close your agape jaw.

“So easily distracted.”

The temperature in your cheeks rises.

“I’ve taken some solo pics,” he guides you towards the bench. “Now, I know you know how to pose for photos but this is a little different, you’re gonna really need to exaggerate your assets, darlin’.”

You swallow, “Ok.”

He helped you loosen up, turned you into some sort of contortionist as he forced you to bend your back further and stick your ass out more. You were never going to become a model but with Benny as your photographer, you had every chance of becoming one.

After you’d relaxed, he introduced himself into the frame.

Benny’s approached to the photoshoot was much like how he was on match night, he mostly remained straight faced and gave direct instruction, gently moving you if he saw it fit. In all his serious though, his expression was soft around the edges and if you cracked, the corner of his lips curled and a swift laugh rose from his chest.

“God, that shot of your hand on my dick through my shorts looks so fucking good.”

Honestly, Benny got hard as soon as he started taking photos of you and when the opportunity arose, you took it. And it’s not like you weren’t turned on yourself, you felt your arousal pool between your thighs as you hovered millimetres away from him.

“Do you need to set up your room?”

“It won’t take long, kind of need you to sit in on it, if you don’t mind?”

You smile, “I’m happy to help.”

You perched at the end of the bed whilst Benny adjusted the lights. He’d already set them up ready, he was fiddling with the heights and moving them a fraction to the left or right, occasionally asking you to switch positions.

It was when he brought the camera and tripod in that you felt the knot in your stomach.

He noticed your demeanour change.

“Hey,” he cupped your face. “You ok?”

You try to smile but it’s fleeting, “Feeling a little nervous.”

The photoshoot felt so intoxicating but this, this was feeling like all eyes were on you.

“Bunny,” he’d slipped your new pet name a couple of times to get you used to it. He took you in both hands and crotched to be at your eye level. “You were fucking fantastic for those photos, if you want to tap out now you can.”

“But I want to do it.”

Benny got it.

He had sent nudes and dick pics to lovers in the past, filming your private life to go on a website was a different playing field, even he had first day jitters when he started. As long as you’re happy and comfortable, you’ll be fine and he can make sure you’re both of those things and more.

“Focus on me, even when you can’t see me, focus on what I’m doing. Remember your head isn’t in the shot, close your eyes if you need to, shut out the room, forget there’s even a camera.”

You give him a reassuring nod.

“The safe word is foxtrot if you change your mind.”

Santiago had gotten you used to a safe word, foxtrot shouldn’t be hard to remember, confusing them was more probable.

He brings a gentle kiss to your lips and you return, hot and heavy. Slipping a tongue over your bottom lip, he pulls himself away, biting the inside of his cheek. All he wanted to do was keep it going but he knew he needed to turn on the camera.

“Sorry, Bunny.”

He backs away.

“Where do you want me?”

His eyes flick to the screen, your pouting lips and nose just on the edge, already stripped down to your simple thong.

“Stay right there,” he winks.

You giggle at his display.

Pushing an index finger, Benny saunters back over to you, blocking the little red light from view. He angles himself to one side, pushing your one leg with his so your soaking panties are on view for all to see. Leaning over, he cups your face and kisses you on the lips slowly before he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, pulling back.

He tilts your head towards the camera knowing all too well your swelling, parted lips would be in the shot, bringing his lips to your ear.

“They’re going to fucking love you,” he whispered, inaudible to the camera’s mic.

The shiver travelled down your spine, your back arching towards him as your breath hitched. He caught the gasp in his mouth with force, tongue slipping through to yours where they moved rhythmically. With one hand firmly holding onto the duvet, your other snaked over his broad shoulders to settle on the back of his neck. You leaned back, lengthening your neck and pushing out your tits just as he taught you.

He smoothed both hands over your body, ensuring he drew around every curve as they went to settle at your waist. He brushed his fabric covered cock along the inside of your leg, groaning at the friction.

You moved your hand back over and down the front of his chest, playing with the hem of his vest.

“You want this off?”

“Yes,” you say in a breath.

Benny took it off in one smooth motion, hat still attached to his head, and you wonder what the muscles in his back looked like on camera. You look up to him with doe eyes, mouth agape with a dumbfounded expression.

The smile on his face twists into a smirk.

“You’re too easy.”

“And you talk too much,” you quip back, your mouth working quicker than your brain.

What was that?!

He cocks his head, his one eyebrow arching, this was new and he liked it.

“Well, I better put my mouth to better use.”

Neither of you had a script or plan for this video but you getting cocky in your role was definitely something the two of you didn’t see coming. You swallowed, only having enough time to process the fact you were now in trouble, and the next thing you realised was Benny latched onto your neck.

You yelp softly as he sucks, his weight baring down.

The duvet grows taut under your hand, the other instinctively grabbing onto the first thing it can find, the elasticated waist of his shorts.

Once he parts his lips from you, he licks the wound then trails kisses down to your chest. He cups a breast in one hand and flicks his thumb against the hardening nipple, smiling at the sweet little noise that comes from your throat.

Kissing your breast twice, he draws a circle with his tongue before taking your nipple in his mouth and nuzzling.

Your head falls back, a moan escaping.

There’s a sense of movement along your forgotten thigh, his palm warm as he spreads you further apart. His touch is soft, brushing towards your crotch and back again, then he squeezes quickly and lightly three times. It was a signal every one of the boys used, three squeezes was asking if everything was ok when you couldn’t speak and you would give the same in return.

Your knuckles grazed his navel, three short squeezes.

His tongue darted to your nipple before he sunk his teeth in, a sharp tinge pulsing through the nerve endings and settling in your cunt, your walls twitching around nothing as your juices trickle, soaking your thong. He lets go, soothing with his mouth and sucking one last time, releasing your nipple with a pop.

Your head snaps up with the lack of touch and you meet his eyes as he straightens up to see your face. The grip you had on his shorts falls, fingertips delicate on his cock, the fabric shifts under your touch.

“Shall we show everyone how wet you are, hm?”

Stepping in front of you, his thumbs coil under the minute hem and you lift your hips for him to pull them off. He hooks them off one leg before making more of a show with the other, he hisses, seeing your glistening pussy.

“Shiiit.”

He steps to one side, lifting one leg and working your thong off, holding your ankle near his waist.

The temperature in your cheeks rises, your chest flushing.

“Oh, Bunny, you’re so wet for me.”

Benny loved how wet you could get.

The lights worked their magic and he rocked your hips carefully side to side for the camera to pick up that beautiful shine.

“Are you gonna play with me or not?”

You’re pouting at him.

“I’m only giving the viewers what they want,” he says, stroking the back of your thigh, coaxing a shudder from you.

Your eyes flitted to his bulge, his cock straining against it’s material prison.

“I’m sure they’d rather see that huge cock stretch my little pussy.”

It’s not like you told a lie, it’s just that Benny didn’t have you where he wanted you yet.

“They do but you’re not ready for me yet.”

Your eyebrows knotted, of course you were fucking ready for him, and that’s when it clicked that he probably wanted you writhing, quivering and pleading under him so his audience knew just how good he was.

His fingertips travel over your stomach, brushing through perfectly trimmed bikini line to rest on your mound. He takes a single finger, the one he uses on the trigger of a gun, and presses it delicately against your clit, your thighs twitching with the touch.

Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, a high pitched sound catches in your chest as he starts to draw circles.

Benny inspects the quirks in your face - the flare of your nostrils, how the colour leaves your lips as you try to stop yourself from making a noise, how your eyelashes flutter and cast shadows across you cheeks, hair sticking to your forehead.

He spreads two fingers through the outer lips of your pussy and groans in unison with you.

His palm still grazes your mound, the friction sending shockwaves through your spine as you lean your back to the bed. You fight every instinct that tells you to close your legs, loving the feel of his hand working it’s way through the muscles of your thigh.

But camera needs to see it, the audience needs to see it as he plunges two fingers knuckle deep into your slit.

You cry, toes curling.

The squelching from your pussy was obscene, it filled your ears and seemingly echoed around the room. Benny worked his fingers in and out at an alarming pace, your slick coating his fingers, dripping to the duvet.

You could feel the knot growing tighter in your stomach, the tension in your core building as he figured out the spot that gained the biggest reaction, your body against you. Throwing an arm over your eyes, you squeeze your eyes shut, dots appearing in your vision as you felt your loins burn.

He knew how to break you in so many ways yet what he chose to do next was new.

His thumb came to your clit, playing with that oversensitive pearl, easing you into a sense of comfort before he pinched his hand. The fingers in your cunt hit that spongey spot and his thumb pressed hard.

You scream, the surge of your orgasm rushing through your body, spraying your juices over his hand to a puddle on the floor.

“That’s it.”

Your legs vibrate, chest rising and falling quickly as you try to recover, a few more squirts slipping out.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your stomach which twitched at the touch. Continuing to rub your clit with all his fingers, he comes to your ear to whisper.

“Pope told me you could be a squirter.”

Dick.

However, two could play that game.

“Your brother knew first.”

Benny hunched over, laughter rolling from his chest, “Ouch.”

“But maybe you could make me squirt from your cock?”

He always loved a challenge.

Straightening up, he stepped back as if he was admiring his work before he spoke aloud for the camera to pick up.

“You want to cum all over my cock next, Bunny?”

“Yes, please.”

You lift yourself up to watch as he yanks his hard cock free, the tip coated in pre cum. Taking the camera, he covers one hand over the lens and brings the tripod closer. 

“Hold your leg up, make sure they can see you.”

He taps your one leg and you cup under the knee, bringing it towards your chest, angling it to the side to open up your pussy. From the screen on the back, he sees how soaked you are, droplets clinging and rolling down your skin.

Taking his cock in his hand, he glides the tip up and down your folds, notching your clit as it passes. You whimper, shivering as goosebumps arrive to your thighs. His fingertips brush along the side of your other leg, bringing your attention to him.

Benny smiles softly before mouthing ‘relax’.

Off camera, you take his hand in yours and squeeze three times then lean back to the safety of the bed. He pushes into your entrance, head dipped to watch as your folds stretch around him, stopping at his tip for you to adjust around him. His lack of movement has you mewling, walls clenching to what they can get.

Pressing a palm to the lower part of your stomach, he slides further in, a chuckle catching in a groan.

“You feel so fucking good.”

He takes you at a languid pace, his hips rolling to make a show of pulling in and out of you, the tip of his cock peeking before he pushes back in. Each blow has a soft but sweet singular grunt slipping from your lips. His thumb moves to press over your clit, stoking the flame of desire in your lower belly and sending through your body in a silent cry. As he begins to rub that sensitive bud, your hand snaps to his wrist with a sharp slap.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen Benny’s eyes turn dark, a hooded glance to you as a smile curled on his lips. His other hand cups your ass before holding you above the safety of the bed. He slides out, your building arousal aiding in the smooth motion.

His next thrust fills you to the hilt.

“Oh fuck,” you cry.

You see the bliss come to his face, his long lashes fluttering, head tilting as he slowly draws back, the friction of your closing walls almost keeping him in. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard before he comes back to his senses, dropping his head and honing in on your pussy like it’s a target.

Then he’s nothing but relentless.

He thrusts are fast yet heavy, the force of each one rutting you deeper into the mattress, your one hand bundling the duvet into fist as you try to hold on. His fingernails bury into the flesh of your ass while your nails sink further into his wrist, his thumb plucking your clit as if you were a stringed instrument set to break under his use.

Words tumble out of you yet you’re overflowing with pleasure and have no idea if anything you say is making sense, whether anything you say is actually getting through to him.

Benny snarls, your walls pulsating around his cock, legs trembling.

You’re close, you’re so fucking close.

With his palm still outstretched, he leans into your stomach and hears your protests before every part of you goes rigid.

You scream, your juices seeping before he pulls himself out, allowing the floodgates to open. He knows it’s downright filthy, hearing the gush and the splash as you practically ruin his laminate flooring but he’s so enamoured with you right now.

His cock is twitching, balls heavy.

Your body goes limp, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, closing your eyes as the room spins. Benny presses a kiss to your stomach, shockwaves dancing through muscle, spreading a luscious warmth.

“Want me to fill you with my cum?” He notches his tip at your entrance.

“Yes,” your voice is hoarse, “Please, please, please.”

He won’t last long.

Your inner walls hug him as he reenters, the noise of your wetness obscene against the slap of his hips against yours. He lasts another minute before his movements begin to stutter.

In your cock drunk haze, you prop yourself up on an elbow, your other hand stretching to run your fingertips down his chest. The sweat clings to the ridges as his abdominals tighten, your feather light touch electrifying as he thrusts as deep as he can go, your breath hitching.

With a groan, he spills his seed inside you, coating your walls.

His flexed muscles go slack, his balls throbbing as he milks himself. Sighing, he pulls out his cock and watches his creamy cum spill with a gurgle.

Looking up at him, a meek smile on your lips and it’s like the Benny you know everyday comes back into the room. His hand immediately reaches to the camera and with an accompanying bleep, the red dot goes out. He collapses onto you, hands roaming each inch of you, lips kissing every patch of skin and he starts rambling.

“I went too hard, I’m sorry darlin’,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”

Even as you throw the hat from his head and run your fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, he won’t stop apologising.

“Benny, Benny…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” his lips hanging loose as he meets your eye.

“Benny,” your voice is delicate, your hands cupping his face and drawing him closer, thumbs rubbing his cheeks. “It’s ok, I’m ok.”

He brushed a hand over your swollen pussy and you flinch, his brows furrow.

“It’s just a little sore.”

He’s not satisfied with your answer, you were going to be a little more than sore but he gladly slanted his lips over yours, sinking deeper, catching your sigh in his mouth.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The room gradually came into view, luminous like you were still riding out your high.

Benny returned from the bathroom with a warm, damp towel. Dipping it between your folds, he cleaned the mess the pair of you made, his touch gentle.

“How are you still hard?”

He grins, “Remember, Duracell bunny.”

“How could I forget,” you giggle.

He continues to tidy away the equipment whilst you climb into the bed, nestling into the plump pillows. Your eyes grow heavy as you admire him, his hands as they wrapped around chrome stands, how easy he carries them over his shoulder, the other towel he brought in just to mop up your arousal from the floor.

“Benny,” you call him. “Come to bed.”

He stops what he’s doing though he’s almost done.

Sliding under the duvet, he waits for you to shuffle to him, an arm coiling around you frame, a hand resting on the small of your back. You tuck your head under his chin, a palm resting over his chest, his heartbeat steady.

“I love you, Bunny,” you say with a smile, closing your eyes.

He scoffs, “Love you too.”

When you come round, the room is plummeting into darkness, outside the sun setting low. The space where Benny lay was empty, creases in the bed sheets the only remanence of his presence. He’d flicked the bedside lamp on and left a t-shirt folded at the end of the bed, the towel gone from the floor.

Pulling on his metal band tee, you wander to the bathroom to pee, the house mostly silent except for the sound of clicking computer keys.

You freshen up before going to find him.

You never considered Benny to be the tech guy of the boys but his set up put yours to shame. He had crammed everything into what appeared to be a utility room, sound proof panels along the windowless walls and lights that filled the room with an ambient glow. He was basking in front of two screens, one with a web browser on, the other playing through the footage you both recorded, headphones clamped to his ears.

Creeping up behind him, you run your palms over his chest.

His finger pressed down on the mouse and the video paused, his other hand pulling off his headphones.

“How’s it looking?” You query, placing a kiss to his temple.

The smell of his aftershave hits your nostrils, his hair roughly towel dried.

“It looks really fucking good, I think it could go viral.”

He turns his head, bringing his lips to yours. Hooking his arm over your back, he holds you closer before you have to come up for air. You lick your lips, the taste of beer linger and you suddenly realise how parched you are.

Your eyes go to the screen.

“Shit, am I always that messy?”

“Yep,” his smile broadens. “Why do you think we all love that pussy so much?”

Your expression scrunches playfully, a joking ‘ew’ coming from your mouth and you wriggle free from his hold.

“You want another?”

“Sure, darlin’, do you mind if I keep editing?”

You glance over your shoulder, “Not at all, as long as I can sit in.”

His heart could burst, first you say yes to starring in his feature, now you want to edit. It was usually such a lonely process, he could use the company, also another eye on this will help spot the issues he doesn’t catch. Not that he thinks there will be.

Watching the two of you back was uncomfortable at first. You had never really heard yourself on camera especially how you sound when you’re being teased with and played with before being fucked raw. Yet the more you watched, the less you squirmed or looked away in embarrassment, you actually enjoyed it.

There was a spark of desire low.

Benny couldn’t stop looking at you, his eyes flicking from the screen and back again. You leaned from the beanbag chair with utter wonder, head cocking in intrigue. It startled him when you finally spoke after an hour.

“Have you thought about doing merch?”

And that’s when he knew, you were hooked on this shit.

[cowboydisaster]

Aesthete

Aesthete (adj.) someone with deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature

repost, originally posted on 12 march 2023

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 4.7k

summary: when Arthur finds himself with a lack of inspiration, you offer yourself as a blank canvas

a/n: this was inspired by a post I saw about canon Arthur v fandom Arthur. Essentially that he isn't just some dumb himbo, he's intelligent and creative/artistic and has a clearer world view than most. I cant find the original post/er, but if you know it please drop me a message!

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @luvliewriting @tillith @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

warning: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (teeth rottingly fluffy, emotional smut)

"a work of art that did not begin in emotion is not art"- paul cèzanne

The rain is a steady, soothing thud on the roof, as you rest, sitting on Arthur’s bed at Shady Belle. It's a stormy day, with rain and lightning falling from the sky, painting everything in a gloomy gray hue. There are a few little puddles on the creaky, wooden floor from the broken window and the old roof, where water has leaked inside. You cherish days like this, days where you can huddle inside, wrapped in a thin blanket while reading a book. Now you are reading a relatively newer piece, Huckleberry Finn, while cozied up in Arthur’s bed. He sits opposite of you, against the footboard, while you are against the headboard. It’s a very comfortable silence, with only the rain and the thunder to break up the quiet afternoon. 

Arthur is very focused in his journal, sketching and scribbling away at something on the ivory pages. His eyebrows are drawn together, and every few minutes he holds the journal at an arm’s length away, ensuring he has the correct perspective. The more he draws, the less interested you find yourself in your novel. Your eyes flicker from him, to your page, and you find that you’ve been so interested in what Arthur is doing that you’ve been stuck re-reading the same paragraph for nearly five minutes. 

But can you blame yourself for being so easily distracted? Arthur is so detail oriented, so intelligent and creative. Very rarely does he allow people to see this vulnerable side of him, and you’ve been lucky enough to peek through the curtains into Arthur Morgan’s fragile, beautiful heart. He has a reputation among the gang of being thick headed and more of a brute than a thinker, and you chuckle at just how ignorant those opinions are. Arthur is one of the smartest men you know. He is an enjoyer of literature, although he prefers writing a novel rather than reading one, he is well versed in history and enjoys mythology. Arthur may not have gone to a school, or have fancy degrees on his wall, but he is a reteller of stories. Arthur soaks in the information he hears, and thinks over it heavily, oftentimes writing about it in his journal, like he is now.

His big hands have an expert grip on the charcoal as he sketches something, his face is contorted into a beautiful little confused pout as he tries to ascertain whether or not the perspective on this particular sketch is perfect. Your eyes trail from his hands up to his lips, the forbidden, soft lips that you dream about kissing at night. Oh, how you wish he was yours. You sigh, refocusing yourself and watching his hands. The curiosity becomes too great, and needing a distraction, you finally speak up.

“What are you drawin’?” You ask, leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse. He perks up at your voice, startled out of his deep focus. Before he responds, he runs his hand through his stubble in thought. 

“Finishin’ up a sketch from a few days ago. Just this old church I found, ain’t nothin special.” Arthur responds, flipping the little book around to show you. 

You recognize the church, he’s drawn a very good likeness. It’s the old, crumbling church just off the road from Shady Belle. The Lemoyne Raiders have been camping out there, and you recall Arthur stopping to inspect it when you’d rode past earlier. He’s perfectly captured the broken walls, and the way vines squeeze the old building like a cobra. You could step into the drawing, and never realize it wasn’t reality. 

“Oh, Arthur, it's beautiful.” You whisper, noticing the attention to detail. Arthur has managed to capture the swaying of the grass, alongside birds taking flight off the roof of the building. 

After some more inspecting of the intricate piece, you hand it back to him, smiling at the blush that colors his cheeks. He never was good at taking compliments. He continues the sketch, and you realize it's the first time you've seen him drawing in a while. Your eyebrows pull together as you try to think back to the last time you'd seen the outlaw with the book in his hands. 

"I noticed you haven't been drawin' as much…?" You inquire, picking Huckleberry back up and glancing over the printed words before looking back up to him.

"Ain't easy findin' pretty things' in the swamp. Back when we was in Valentine, there was so much to draw, so many things caught my eye." Arthur whispers, never bringing his eyes away from the paper as he shades the windows with his charcoal. You toy with your lip, feeling that it's your time to finally bite the bullet and be brave. You take a deep breath, setting your book down again. 

"So you draw beautiful things?" You ask, barely over a whisper. Your voice travels across the expanse of the bed like a breath on the wind. 

Arthur finally looks up to you, green eyes locking onto yours as he thinks over the meaning behind your question. He leans back against the footboard, and brings his knee up to lean on. 

"I- well yeah, mostly. I like to draw things how I find em, natural, beautiful and the like." Arthur responds, brushing through his beard with his hand while thinking of sketches of deer, flowers and birds, crumbled buildings and landscapes. 

Arthur's heart stops when you stand up, slowly tip-toeing to the center of the room and turning to him. Your eyes are locked onto each other, nothing can be heard but quiet breaths and the patter of rain on the ceiling. Warm light caresses your face as you bring your hands up to your shirt, heart pounding. 

"And… Do you think I'm beautiful…?" You ask, pulling your shirt out of your jeans so it's no longer tucked.

Arthur is frozen, shocked as his eyes glance between your own, laced with bravery and lust, and your hands which are slowly pulling your shirt out of your jeans. He swallows thickly, at a loss for words. 

"Well a course- I think you're, you're very beautiful…" 

Arthur's eyes are wide, his jaw open with shock, and cheeks pink as you unbutton your shirt. His face lasts only a moment before he schools himself, evening out his features to appear nonchalant.

"What are you uh…" Arthur clears his throat quietly, "What are you doin'?" Arthur asks, slipping his eyes closed and growling as your shirt hits the floor.

"Let me inspire you… in my natural state." You quote Arthur back to himself, unclasping your belt buckle and pulling the leather through the loops until the belt clunks to the floor. Your motions are slow, graceful, in the candlelight as you slowly hook your thumbs under your jeans and undergarments sliding them to the floor. Your jeans hit the floor with a thud, and as you step out of them, Arthur pulls out his journal. 

Your body is beautiful. Perfect in his eyes. Round and curved, full and feminine. Your legs, your hips, your collarbones and breasts, all he can do is sink in this canvas that is your body for a few moments. His lack of inspiration is completely gone, and Arthur thinks that with an infinite amount of blank paper he could reference your body as art forever. He's never seen anything so beautiful, so enchanting. You seem to beam with a golden light, shadowing the v in between your thighs and the valley between your breasts. All he can do is stare, and all he can think about doing is taking the time to study every inch of your beauty.

"I…" Arthur stops, speechless as you pull an old ottoman from the corner of the room.

"How do you want me?" You whisper, glossy lips shining in the candlelight, and all Arthur can think about is kissing the perfect rosy petals. 

"How do I- I want you?" Arthur asks, not understanding your question because he wants you in so many ways right now. You're nothing short of a goddess standing before him, an angel. 

"Yeah," You chuckle, "pose me. However you think, you're the artist after all. Go on, it's okay." You encourage when Arthur is hesitant to touch you. He doesn't want to overstep a boundary, and he's terrified to touch you, to taint you with his hands that have been the cause for so many terrible things. He truly thinks that you deserve so much better than him, but he is a fool for it. Because he is all that you want. 

With a nod, he comes over and helps you position yourself. He’s incredibly polite, of course he is, not wanting to touch you anywhere indecent even though you’ve just stripped in front of him. Your left leg is bent under you, and you sit under it, while your right is propped up at an angle, brought up almost to your chest. He positions your arm over the bottoms of your breasts, and your hand is placed on your shoulder. Once he steps back, checking that the position is to his liking, his fire hot touch leaves your skin. 

“Good?” You ask, stretching your neck back so that your hair falls down your back, exposing your throat. 

“Absolutely perfect…” Arthur whispers, sitting on the edge of the plush bed, just a few feet in front of you. He picks up his leather journal and the charcoal, turning to an empty page in the back of the book. 

The sound of thunder, rain and charcoal against paper fill your head as your eyelids flutter, watching Arthur. Seeing him like this, so focused and in his element, is both heartwarming and incredibly attractive. He bites at his bottom lip, hyper focused, as he follows the slopes and planes of your body, perfectly transferring them onto the paper. He gets to your breasts, watching the goosebumps that trickle down your stomach and arms. His eyes are hot on you, studying you. You blush when he steps forward, gently brushing a stray hair away that had fallen in front of your shoulder, tucking it behind your ear so as to not obstruct the view of his model. 

When he sits back down on the creaking bed, he crosses his ankle over his knee, leaning back to get another perspective before resting his journal on his calf. He resumes his sketching, and his eyes linger on you before every stroke of the charcoal. Arthur watches the charcoal trace the lines of your hips, your thighs and your breasts onto the paper, and more than anything, he wishes that it was his lips tracing your skin, instead of the charcoal. The sound of the rain is soothing, and the thunder is one and the same as the pounding of your heart when Arthur’s eyes linger on your lips, your body. Heat lightning flashes the sky through the broken window with warm tones of orange as a shiver runs down your spine, though you are far from cold. 

Arthur really focuses now, leaning into his journal, glancing up and down frequently to capture the tiny details of you, some of his favorites. Like the little flyaways of hair, slightly frizzy from the heat that falls around your face, the freckles on your skin, the scars and stretch marks, the imperfections that color you. Once he’s finished, he leans back, eyeing both you and the journal before writing your name at the bottom, all capital as if a title. 

“Alright, should be done.” Arthur whispers, leaning forward to hand you off his journal.

You take the heavily used book, and look at the mirror-like reflection on the pages. Arthur has captured you perfectly. You look up to his green eyes, with tears. He’s drawn you in his journal as if you are the most gorgeous of any of the sights his eyes have seen, because you are. Every detail is perfect.

“Arthur, this is incredible.” You praise, completely truthful. He is a wonderful artist, and doesn’t give himself enough credit. You stand up, and fold his journal carefully closed before sitting down on the bed beside him. Your hand meets his knee, and boldly you look up at him just hoping. You’ve been head over heels for the man for some time now, and if there was ever a time to bring it up, it's now.

“Arthur I'm gonna ask you somethin’ and I want you to be honest with me, yeah?” 

Arthur is sincere, maybe worried as his eyebrows draw together and he places his hand overtop of yours. 

“Of course, anythin.” Arthur says, quietly. 

You look down at your bare lap, gathering courage that causes your heart to pound in your ears before glancing back up.

“I… Do you want me?” You ask, words hanging heavy in the air as you wait for a response. But much to your embarrassment, Arthur doesn’t give you one. He looks into your eyes, glancing around with his jaw open slightly. He opens and closes it a few times, as if he can’t find the words he's searching for. After a few moments, you hang your head, blushing and feeling like a goddamn fool, because you’ve overstepped and he doesn’t want you. 

“Oh, I see. I’m so sorry, Arthur, I’ve misstepped terribly.” You mumble, shame and embarrassment starting to drag you down. You can’t bear to look at him as you stand up to grab your clothes and leave.

 As you do, his hand grabs onto your own. 

“Darlin’ wait-” Arthur pleads, and his eyes are overflowing with emotion as he sits back down onto the bed, holding your hands in his. For a moment, you feel hopeful, maybe you were wrong, and your best friend who you are desperately in love with, wants you back. 

“I aint so good with my words sometimes. Always been better at writin’ my feelins rather than sayin’ em out loud.” Arthur says, eyes locked onto your conjoined hands before trailing up your torso to those beautiful eyes. 

“I want you. God- more than anything, I want you, sweetheart,” he pauses, brushing another stray hair behind your ear, “But I want you to understand that this isn’t about just layin’ together.” He continues, and tears well up in your eyes at his words because your feelings are being reciprocated and he's all you’ve ever wanted.

“You see I want what's tucked away in here,” Arthur whispers, pointing to the left side of your chest, right over your heart, “and I love what’s in here.” Arthur smiles, tapping your temple.

“Do I want you? Yeah, I do, sweetheart. But I want all a’ you. Your heart, your mind, your body… God- I've been sweet on you longer than I care to admit.” Arthur squeezes your hand before running his thumb under your jaw, and pulling your chin up so he can look into your teary eyes, “and well, when you asked me to draw you just now, sayin’ yes was easier than breathin’ because darlin’ you are the art. I just had to transfer that beauty onto paper.”

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his own. His big, warm hand cups your jaw, and you feel as if you could melt into his touch. You want nothing more than to be enveloped by him, to have him in every way possible, because you want him too. His beautiful, creative mind, his soft heart with so many walls around it, and you've crumbled them all to nothing more than shattered ramparts. You’ve broken him, and rebuilt him back into the man he is now, changed him forever with your heart. 

He pulls you closer until your lips meet his own. It's shy at first, two strangers meeting in a coy peck. But the familiarity comes soon, because this is Arthur, and you find yourself clinging to him, like if you let go he may disappear, or bottle back up and you can’t lose him now. You open your mouth for him, letting him in to intertwine his tongue with your own as the kiss grows more passionate. He tastes like whiskey and tobacco and Arthur, and it's too much as tears silently fall down your cheeks. Arthur pulls away for a moment, smiling softly as his thumb brushes away your tears.

“It’s rainin, we have all day…” You smile as his eyes run over your face. 

“That we do,” Arthur whispers, kissing your temple before pulling away again, “Y’know… I've had gold and silver, horses, and books worth more than this estate, but darlin’ I ain’t never had anything in my hands that was as beautiful, or as priceless, as you.” He says before leaning into your neck, kissing your pulsepoint and your collarbone. His hands toy with your breasts, running over the soft skin until your nipples harden and you lean into him. 

“Oh, Arthur,” You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you further. 

“You’re perfect.” Arthur nibbles at the flesh of your earlobe before whispering against your skin, “My blank canvas.”

Your hands come to either side of his face, pulling his gaze up to your eyes. 

“Then make me art, Arthur… mark me, have me, please I need you.” you whimper, pulling him down to your lips again, and savoring the feeling that you’ve been aching for for so long. As soon as the kiss breaks, he caresses your cheek. Again, the only sound is the rain and the thunder. His lips are swollen from where yours have left kisses, and you decide it's your favorite sight. 

“Sweetheart, I already told you. You are art, but markin’ you? Havin’ you? Now that I can do just fine.” Arthur whispers against your flush skin, illuminated as lightning flashes in the distance.

Everything makes sense, everything falls into place, when his lips crash against yours again. They are no longer shy, but needy and loving, lustful and wanting. Your hands reach to the buttons of his shirt as he lays you down on the bed, making sure the pillow under your head is comfortable before moving his lips to your neck. Once you’ve undone the buttons, he leans away to pull it off of his arms, throwing it to the side. It lands on the bedside table, knocking over a container of ink that spills onto the floor. You gasp, leaning up to inspect the damage, as Arthur anchors you, pushing you back down to the bed with his kisses. 

“It’s okay, it's alright, we’ll clean it up later sweetheart.” Arthur shushes, and you melt back into your state of euphoria with him between your legs. His lips caress your own as his hand swirls your nipple, toying with the hardened peak before it trails down to your hip. 

“I'm gonna touch you, okay?” Arthur whispers against your lips as another quiet rumble of thunder sounds out. You nod, spreading your legs for Arthur as he adjusts himself on top of you, leaning his weight on his forearm. 

“Please Arthur-” You beg as he trails his fingers down your knee to your inner thigh before running his fingers along your folds. He stops, and groans lightly, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Shit- you’re so wet. I'm sorry, darlin’ it's been awhile since I-” Arthur starts, but you lean up, pressing a kiss against his lips before whispering to him. 

“It’s okay… been awhile for me too.”

He nods against your forehead, kissing it before continuing. You spread your legs even more for him, and he sinks two fingers into your pulsing heat. Immediately, your grip on him tightens, and you whimper, eyes squinted shut as he slowly works you open. 

“Shh…shh… that’s my girl.” Arthur coos, stretching you with his fingers as you cling to him, gasping for breath at the way he touches you like you’re his canvas, his masterpiece, and the more he caresses, kisses and touches, the more beautiful you become underneath him. He didn’t think it was possible for your appearance to become any more entrancing, but as you moan, arching your back so that your breasts find release against his chest, he finds that he was wrong. 

He curls his fingers inside you rhythmically, pressing down right in the perfect spot before gently stroking your clit with his thumb. It's a delirious combination, and the only thing anchoring you from ascending to the heavens, is him. 

“That’s it, darlin’. Let it go, let me watch you unfold.” Arthur whispers, keeping a steady pace with his hands while kissing your stomach, up to your breasts. He begins to lick at your breast, swirling his tongue over your stiff nipple and kissing your skin every chance he gets. It proves to be your undoing, and just as the rain pounds on the roof even harder, and thunder sounds out, you find your release. Your nails dig into Arthur’s back as you reach your climax, the building coming in waves that have you gasping for breath and moaning. 

“Arthur-” leaves your lips in a mantra as you clamp down on his fingers, the waves of your orgasm washing over you and drowning you in the most indescribable, emotional show of affection. You see stars, flashes of bright white as you gasp and shake, hanging onto the man who you love. 

“Good girl,” Arthur whispers, kissing your forehead a few times as you come down from your high. 

“Real good, darlin.” Arthur coos, sinking his fingers into you until he has completely drawn out your release. Once your back stops arching, and hits the bed again, you pull his face down to yours once more. His hand cups your neck, and you feel your juices on his fingers as he runs his hand from your neck to your jaw, holding it while he kisses you again. His forehead meets yours as you whine. 

“I need- Arthur, I need to feel you, please.” You cry, hands running down the muscles of his chest, down the trail of sandy blonde hair that runs down below his jeans. You pop the button open, biting your lip as you press the palm of your hand against the pressure there. Arthur releases a deep groan, thrusting involuntarily against your hand. 

He leans down, kissing your nose with a smile before standing up and shedding his jeans to the ground. He steps out of them, and you prop yourself up on your elbow to admire him. 

Arthur is big. A bit longer than average, but he is girthy and thick. You scan over his rosy head, and the vein that bulges from the underside of his shaft. And as you follow up the trail of hair, to Arthur’s chest and face, he sees the worry. It’s been a long time, and truthfully you’re not very experienced with this. You don’t know if you can take him, but god, you want to. 

“Arthur I… you’re beautiful.” You whisper, watching the flex of his muscles in the candlelight, the soft, light hair that falls into his face as he chuckles, looking down to hide his smile. 

“Beautiful? Really?” Arthur asks, sarcastically. 

“Yes, Arthur, beautiful.” 

He shakes his head, not agreeing with you really, as he comes back down to the bed. He rests himself between your legs again, kissing your thigh, then your hip… and so on until he reaches those plump, bruised lips. 

“You ready? You still want this sweetheart?” Arthur asks, massaging the tender skin of your thigh as you breath out shakily. You nod, but he senses the trepidation and doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it?” He asks, pulling away from your lips to look into your eyes. He sees you smile, blushing before wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Be gentle, please. You’re- well you’re big Arthur and I really want this…” You whisper, chuckling at yourself for a second. 

“I’ll be gentle, okay? N if it hurts, you tell me. Right away.” Arthur says, almost darkly. He does not want you putting up with any pain for his sake. You nod, before leaning into his chest and wrapping your hands around his neck. Your legs, around his waist, spread a bit more and you feel his head against your entrance. Slowly, Arthur thrusts into you, and everything you were worried about shatters to the ground. God- he feels so good. And before he's fully in, you feel so full, and so stretched. You’ll never get enough of this, you realize. It’s perfect, like two puzzle pieces fitting together as he enters to the hilt and you moan as he bumps your sensitive spot. 

“You okay?” Arthur asks, stopping his hips completely, and you dig your heel into his ass, begging him to do anything but stop.

“Move, Arthur, please. Oh, you feel so good.” You whimper, your hips rising to meet Arthur’s as he thrusts into you. Your moans mix with Arthur’s groans and the thunder, and it’s all washed away by the rain. Not a peep can be heard from outside, but inside the room there is so much raw emotion, lust and love, that even the air feels like it's intruding on you two.

“Shit, sweetheart.” Arthur growls, thrusting into you with more rhythm now that he knows you’re okay. The stretch is the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that has you inching towards a climax. He kisses your lips, and you lean up to meet him halfway. The kiss is hot and passionate, with gasps for air in between and moans as you two commit the rawest act of love known to man. He rocks against you, swaying you with his hips. The pleasure combined with the emotion of him finally against you is overwhelming. You’ll never be closer, more whole than you are like this. He’s with you. The tightness in your stomach pulls, stretching and coiling all the like until it snaps. Once again, Arthur is your anchor, rocking you, and steadying you as you completely come undone beneath him. You constrict around him, muscles tightening and contracting as an intense wave of pleasure washes over you. Your moans are loud, breathy as you release the tension he’s created within you. It’s too much for Arthur, and as you squeeze around him, he thrusts into you a few times, hard and deep before he cums inside you, filling you completely with his seed. 

“You did so well, darlin. You’re so beautiful…” Arthur whispers, kissing your forehead before placing a long, slow kiss on your lips. He stays there for a moment, letting you catch your breath before sliding out of you. He lands on the bed beside you, and you curl up against his chest. 

“Arthur?” You ask, placing your hand on his chest and cuddling further into him. He takes a sheet from the bottom of the bed, pulling it over you until you’re decent.

“What is it sweetheart?” Arthur asks, brows furrowed as he runs his hand along your arm and watches the rise and fall of your body against his. 

“Did you mean it? Everything you said before…” You ask, propping your chin up to look into his eyes. He runs his hand up and down your back, soothing you while smiling. 

“Course I did.” Arthur whispers, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. 

“I… I love you, y’know.” You whisper back, leaning your head against his chest, too nervous to look into his eyes. Arthur only chuckles, pulling your head closer to his chest with his hand.

“I know, and I love ya too.”

The rest of the rainy day is spent in various forms of affection. You and Arthur lay together all day, whether sleeping or not, reading and drawing or just holding each other. Everything seems right now. Like for the first time in your life you’ve found your purpose, your person. He is your other half, your strength, your ecstasy, and he loves you too, your little aesthete.

[melodygatesauthor]

Cherry Pie

Steven Grant X f!Reader

COWRITTEN BY: @welcometostayingawake

Part 13 in the February Fluff and Fuck 2023 Challenge

Day 13 Prompt - First Time

(A/N: I know I skipped Day 12, Mona and I were too excited and I had to post this one first, I'll have 12 up soon!)

Summary: It's Valentine's Day. You and Steven have been dating for a little while, and decide to take things a step further tonight. Neither of you expect this to be the night that Steven discovers a kink he has, and neither of you expect it to go this far.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, virgin!Steven, Steven has a breeding kink, smut, cum as lube, multiple orgasms, cum eating, p in v creampie, Reader is not on birth control

Word Count: 3.2k

Steven Grant was never the type to do anything unpredictable. When you’d met him a little over a month and a half ago, he was ringing you up at the gift shop inside the National Art Gallery in London. He had left such an impression on you that you couldn’t help but go back the very next day, only to buy something you didn’t need just to see the gift shop clerk smile at you again. He had a way of stopping time, letting his hooded eyes linger on you for a little too long, but for you it wasn’t long enough.

You had to make the first move, as it wasn’t going to come from him, that much was clear. The third time you found yourself in the gift shop, with no real reason for being there other than wanting to see him again, you decided to be more bold. You invited him out for dinner, to which he promptly turned into a stuttering mess and eagerly agreed. He was more confident than you initially had thought after getting a chance to pick his brain. As soon as you brought up the new Egyptian exhibit, he came to life.

It was like his entire body changed when he talked about it, all his knowledge spilling out like a faucet. No stuttering or stammering, no confusion or lack of certainty, he was confident and clear, and he didn’t stop talking. You liked watching the way he lit up, so excited to have someone just listening to him while he went on for nearly the entire date. Normally something like that would be irritating, never being asked about yourself, but you liked to see him so happy and passionate. It excited you.

He didn’t make the move to kiss you that night, so you had to lean in first, but that was okay with you. After a few bad dates with guys that were all too handsy, you were glad to be spending time with someone who respected your boundaries and let you initiate the first touch. Steven was like no one you’d ever dated, and you were going to make sure you held on to him.

That’s why, when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, you jumped at the opportunity. There was no chance you were going to say no to someone as pure and genuine as him. Men like him were a rare breed, and you couldn’t imagine finding someone who treated you better. The days blended together, spending time meeting up for lunch dates by the museum or going to his flat in the evening to watch a corny movie and makeout on the couch. With every passing day, you fell deeper and deeper in love with him. It was hard not to, really. 

Neither of you had taken the next step though. The next step to do something like that, to go any further with your physical relationship. You weren’t a virgin, but Steven had told you that he was, and so you were letting him decide when the time was right to move forward. This didn’t change the fact that you’d gotten yourself so worked up kissing him that you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom once or twice mid-makeout to ease the ache that was building. While you were in there you had to keep one hand over your mouth while you were two knuckles deep into your soaking mound. 

You would go home after spending the evening pressed against him, trying not to let the desire vibrating beneath your bones spill out in a disconcerting way, afraid of scaring Steven away with how badly you wanted him. It was proving to be quite difficult, holding off until he felt ready. The littlest actions would set you off, like the time he had chocolate leftover on his lip and his tongue peeked out to swipe at it, your eyes zoning out in a daydream about what could be if you acted on your carnal thoughts. 

When he finally mentioned it, you were so excited you could hardly contain it. It was Valentine’s Day, and the two of you were a mess on the couch. His mouth was spreading over yours in open, wet kisses, the feeling of his chest leaning against yours heady; the desire to be closer so strong for you. Steven’s tongue licked into your mouth over and over, pulling needy noises from you as he went. You felt the nagging press of his cock against your thigh. He had one hand touching your breast over your shirt and the other was holding your waist while he hovered his body over yours. Breaking apart for air, he looked at you with such a heated gaze you swore he could read your mind.

“I…I think I’m ready, love, I want to-I want to try it.” He said breathlessly.

You couldn’t contain your excitement.

“Really? Are you sure?” You said eagerly, glad to be able to satisfy the throbbing between your legs, but not wanting to push him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he dove back in for more ravenous kisses that trailed to your jaw and eventually your neck.

“Okay, let’s move this to the bed then.” You were impatient and needy, and now that you knew he wanted to take it further, you didn’t want to wait.

“Alright, yeah.” 

He walked over to the bed and started taking off his shirt, letting your eyes wander over his now revealed torso. You loved Steven’s body. He wasn’t overly toned, muscular with some cushion - his behind surprised you the first time you noticed it, overall breathtaking nonetheless. You removed your own clothes with haste, discarding your soaking panties as well before Steven could get to them. When you looked back up, you saw Steven with his cock in his hand. It was bigger than you were expecting, judging from the bulge in his pants that was pressing against you all this time.

“Do you have protection?” You asked, finding yourself salivating while staring at his length, having a hard time dragging your eyes upward to meet his.

He visibly gulped. “Bollocks.”

Damn, you thought, it was good while it lasted. Unless…

“We don’t have to, dove, I’d be happy with anything you give me.” Steven suggested.

You walked closer to him and touched your fingertips to his neck gently. You wanted him so badly, more than anything, and here he was standing at attention for you. You wanted to feel him inside of you, the heavy weight of him pushing into you. His breathing was ragged, desperate, needy. You weren’t on birth control, the hormones not sitting well with your physiology, so you stayed away from the stuff. This could be risky, but it was a chance you were willing to take in order to have him fill you with his thick cock like you’d been imagining for weeks.

“How about, just when you’re about to…you know…you pull out?” You suggested, fully pressing your palm to his chest now and looking up to stare into his imploring dark eyes.

He nodded, curls flopping into his eyes, “Yeah, yeah I can manage that… I think.”

With that you slotted your lips over his once again in a flurry of passionate and heavy kisses, your desperation spilling into your actions. His hands were roaming, exploring, feeling up your sides and cupping your breasts. He pinched your nipples between his fingers and moaned into you. You felt his cock pressing against your abdomen eagerly as you pressed yourself to him again, desperate for a hole to bury itself into.

The bed was right behind you, so you fell back onto it, shimmying over to situate yourself by the pillows. Steven quickly climbed over you, strong arms caging you in. You spread your legs around him wide, ready to take him. The fact that he didn’t know what he was doing was part of the excitement. It was both adorable and enticing, the nervously eager way he looked at your pussy. He ran a finger over your glistening slit, causing you to arch your back into his touch.

“Ahh, Steven.” You breathed, keeping your eyes on him. His eyes never left your face.

He was fascinated in the way you reacted to him touching different parts of your soaking mound, the different sounds you let out egging him on. He liked the way you shuddered when he found that hard nub between your folds, your lips parting on a gasp. Your hips shifted forward as if to say to touch you more. Instead, he lifted his fingers to his lips, running them along his tongue and savoring the sweet delicious taste of you. 

“Steven,” you whined. “Fuck me. Please.” You couldn’t handle his teasing anymore.

He rubbed the tip along your folds before finding your entrance. When he did, he thrust his entire length into you, having prepared you enough beforehand to do so with ease. His eyebrows shot up at the sensation of your cunt fluttering around his cock in response, never having felt anything like this before. He pulled back, to the edge, and then pushed into you again, forcing a breathless moan from your sweet lips. Steven leaned over and kissed you tenderly, delicately entangling his tongue with yours.

He remembered that you weren’t on birth control, and that he wasn’t wearing a condom. Fuck. He thrusted again into you, deep, hard. He had to remember to pull out, no matter how good it felt, he couldn’t risk getting you pregnant. Ohh, shit. Another hard thrust. Closing his eyes, he tried to control his breathing to steady himself. Steven imagined what you would look like though, filled with his spend, pregnant with his baby. Another deep thrust, and then…oh no!

When he spent restless nights palming his own release, it never happened this fast. He never came in such a short time, but here he was, breathing heavily in whimpering moans while he filled you up with ropes of cum. His face turned hot, and yet somehow his palms went cold. He just came inside of you, he just filled you to the brim with his spend.

“S-Steven did you just…” You looked at his face and then down between your legs. His cock was still inside of you, still pulsating. “Did you just come inside me?”

“I…I didn’t know it would happen so fast, I’m so sorry. I was just thinking about it, about how good it felt and…oh f-”

“No, erm, no it’s actually…it’s actually fine.” You said, much to his surprise.

In truth, you weren’t as upset as you should be. You might actually get pregnant, and while the thought was a little scary, you knew Steven wasn’t like other guys. He was different, kind and caring. The fact that he was so quick to come inside of you was honestly rather…hot.

“I just couldn’t help it, I’m s-sorry.” His mouth offered apology after apology, while his hips were slowly but noisily pushing his cum back into you.

He chanced a look down and groaned, “Wow, look at that, love.”

Steven was watching himself push his spend back into you with his cock, his movements not catching on anything thanks to his load. The muscles in his abdomen were twitching a little from the oversensitivity, but it quickly passed. Seeing his cum spilling out of your hole around his cock inspired his erection to stiffen once again. He loved seeing it go back inside of you, keeping you full, making you take his seed again and again. 

“Can I, love, please?” His hooded eyes trained on you were so desperate, so needy. “Please, give me one more, just one more.” He breathed.

Despite your better judgment, you couldn’t say no to Steven. You were certain at this point that he was the love of your life, even after only a couple of months. You couldn’t help but give it to him, you’d give him anything, especially when he asked so nicely.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you nodded, “Okay, baby.”

Kissing your palm before plunging forward, he tilted your hips up as he thrust into you, hitting you deeper than before. You let out a sound somewhere between a shriek and a groan as you grip onto the sheets for stability. He was pounding into you, fucking his cum deeper inside with every powerful thrust. 

He let go of your hips and fell forward on his elbows, hovering over you. He mouthed at your breasts, flicking your nipple with his tongue. While his lips were busy on one side, his hand was teasing at the other, your nerves alight with pleasure. You were in complete ecstasy. Steven may have been a virgin not ten minutes ago, but he fucked you into the mattress like he’d been doing it for ages, hitting all the right spots. 

“Fuck, Steven, you’re s-so good.” You said through your cacophony of moans.

He sat back up, and grabbed the backs of your knees, pushing them down and testing your flexibility. Steven was bending you in half, your knees went up nearly to your head as the new angle made you see stars. He was fucking you good and deep now, you swore you felt him in your lungs. Skin slapping against skin, he rammed into you as though he were trying to win a race. You were nearly screaming now, feeling yourself reaching that sweet, mind-numbing climax you’d been chasing since he kissed you on the couch earlier in the evening.

When people talk about the big O moment, this is what they imagine. Bone shattering convulsions that turn your brain into nothing but a pile of mush in your head. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull while your cunt gushed over Steven’s cock. You’d never felt anything like it, and when he dropped your knees, you felt them shaking in an effort to keep your legs spread.

“There you go, love.”

Steven sounded proud of himself for making you come so hard, and he should feel proud. He looked down at his cock sliding in and out of you. There was a ring of white around the girth of it as he just kept fucking you through your flutters.

“Look at that, that’s new, innit?” He’d never seen that before, not in any of the movies he’d watched at least. “Didn’t know you could do that, sweetie.”

You couldn’t even speak anymore to try and figure out what he was talking about. He had erased your vocabulary completely. You responded with a pathetic groan, attempting to agree with him. He was still enjoying the view, eyes fixated on watching his own spend trickling out of you, now mixed with the mess you’d created. He was certain he put a baby in you, and if he hadn’t, he surely was about to. Just thinking about filling you up again hardened his cock to a point of agony for him, twitching inside you.

“Mmm, I’m right-ahh, right there…I’m gonna-” His words were cut off by his groan of satisfaction, pulled from him from the sheer force of his orgasm.

Steven was shooting into you again, filling you beyond your threshold and he began spilling out the sides, but he didn’t stop fucking it into you until he was completely empty. After some time, he pulled out and found himself transfixed with the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the sheets.

“Well, that’s pretty, innit? Look at you, all full like that, sweetie. How pretty.” He was positively beaming. A bit of drool threatened to drip out of his open mouth. Wiping it away quickly, he asked “Is it okay if I-? Oh sorry, sorry, but I can’t just leave you like this, can I?”

You were stuck staring at his face, brows furrowed, unable to believe what he was suggesting. Was he aware of how his words were affecting you? Was he saying…did he mean…oh my days, you thought while he leaned forward to lap at your dripping folds. The obscene sound of him slurping at both your juices and his was strangely intoxicating.

Steven didn’t know what came over him, but he was so drunk off pleasure that he wanted to taste you, and he wanted to taste himself coming out of you. And oh, you tasted so good. He reached a finger inside, drawing out globs of white and drinking it down. He pushed in a second finger and heard you whine under his touch from the sensitivity.

His tongue flicked over your clit, forcing you to arch your back and angle your hips toward his face. You couldn’t get enough of him, you couldn’t get enough of the meek and innocent gift shoppist Steven Grant. Even though you had dreamed of sharing this with him for a while, never did you expect this. This surpassed anything you could have imagined, his eyes carried a crazed look that you couldn’t have expected from him. Both of his digits fucked into you while he ate your pussy like a meal he’d been craving. His fingertips drew upward as though they were beckoning your orgasm forward.

“Oh shit, Steven- Ahhh,” You used one hand to grip the sheets desperately, and the other tangled into his messy curls of their own volition.

When he moaned against you, the vibration sent your head back. After the last one, you didn’t think you could handle another orgasm. In fact, you’d been positive he wouldn’t be able to get it out of you, but you were getting closer, in spite of the sensitivity. When you thought about the fact that Steven had not only filled you once, but twice in the same night, you realized that you may have your own kink that you didn’t realize. The idea of it made your cunt flutter over his fingers. You wanted him to fill you up again.

You came again, your knuckles ached with the grip you held over the sheets. You were certain the neighbors would be having a word with Steven in the morning, but he didn’t seem to care, and honestly, neither did you. Your mind went blank while your cunt squeezed the life from his fingers with every wave of pleasure that flowed through you. Steven ate that up too without hesitation.

He climbed back over you and kissed you before collapsing on the bed at your side. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, tucking his face into the nape of your neck and nuzzled into you. His breathing was rapidly evening out, the air huffing against your neck hotly. Your body melted into his, relaxed and sated, safe in the arms of your beau. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steven.” You said, breathlessly, not quite believing the last hour.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” He mumbled into your skin before promptly falling asleep.

AO3 LINK

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart, @ninebluehearts

[fruitkingfrog]

[ID: A full page drawing of Orion holding Lightray, Orion’s hands are under his legs and Lightray is playing with Orion’s hair, they are looking into eachothers eyes and smiling. Behind them is a rainbow Mother box inspired circuit pattern, with seventeen alternate universe versions of them in the various borders and fifteen much smaller alternate universe versions of them over the borders. The word "Multiverse" is framed in dots on the frame on the left. End ID]

late 2021 Lightrion week day 6 - Alternate Universe! &

New Gods November 2023 - Week 4, Day 4: Alternate Realities!

once upon a time it was said that only one version of the New Gods exist across all Earths, but its rarely reflected after that. Most of these AUs are canon, some after 1/2 canon (featuring only one of the duo), and some are my own ideas :D This december is going on three years since I got into New Gods!

 commission info & ko-fi links available on my pinned post♥! 

♥ reblogs appreciated! do not repost/edit/etc

Closeups, detailed IDs under cut:

[ID: Box one: Orion and Lightray from DC, depicted as anthro cartoon dogs from the neck up. There is a purple background with black kirby krackle behind them.

Box two: Thorion and Bald’r with their foreheads pressed together, smiling and looking into eachothers eyes. Their hands are clasped in front of Bald’rs shoulder. Thorion has shoulderlength blond hair and wing-like ears on his helmet, which exposes his face. Bald’r has black hair, and wears a blue cape over his armour.

Box three: Lightray as a Blue Lantern holding off an attack from Orion as a Red Lantern. Orion is snarling, striking at Lightray with claws and spitting red acid. Lightray is smiling at him, reaching out one arm and holding Orion’s wrist in the other. Blue and Red kirby krackle surround each of them.

Box four: Two anthropomorphic dinosaurs, one is red, blue, and yellow with a spiky back and saber-teeth, he is wearing a helmet. The second is a white and yellow pterodactyl with a red and black symbol painted on his chest.

Box five: Two mech suits, Orion’s slightly in front of Lightray’s. Orion’s has his helmet, a pink face, blue collar, and red shoulders. Lightray’s behind him has his gold headpiece and flames coming from the top. Orion and Lightray sit side by side on the shoulder of Orion’s mech, faced away from viewer. Lightray is reaching over to Orion’s thigh and they are watching a sunset together.

Box six: Hunter and Neon Black, two men closely resembling Orion and Lightray, but with thicker armour and darker clothes. Hunter is turned away but looking over his shoulder, while Neon Black is pressed into his chest and smiling.

Box seven: Orion and Lightray based on the style of Mike Mignola, Lightray is thin and wearing a white top with a gold V mark, and long gold gloves that reach up his arms. Orion has a low cut red shirt and blue shoulderpads. He and Lightray are smiling at eachother.

Box eight: Future State Orion with a matching Lightray, their heads are pressed together and they're holding eachother's faces and smiling. Orion has pink skin and flaming hair, Lightray is similar, both have gold headpieces resembling their usual counterparts.

Box nine: The top of two mock-Simpsons style figures, one with a red/black bowlcut and one with orange hair and a silver headpiece with a "v" on it, meant to be Obrian and Flightrisk from Radioactive Man.

Box ten: Lightray faced away from the viewer, glaring at Orion, who is lacking a helmet and has long, wild hair. Orion has a darker outfit based on his Gods and Monsters uniform, with a silver harness. Barda is next to him in an outfit similar to her regular one, she looks concerned and is reaching to pull Orion back. Behind them are buildings from New Genesis.

Box eleven: Orion's death scene from Gods and Monsters, Lightray is holding Orion back while Highfather's staff kills him.

Box twelve: Orion standing with his hand by his hip, Lightray is flying by his side and smiling with his hands raised, drawn in a Jack Kirby inspired style.

Box thirteen: Young Justice Orion looking back at Lightray, who is smiling at him.

Box fourteen: A sketchy drawing of Lightray and Orion, using unused New 52 designs. Lightay has goggles and red gloves, Orion's helmet has more pieces to it and his top is sleeveless.

Box fifteen: Highfather Orion from The Dark Side leaning into a kiss from Lightray, who is playing with his hair.

Box sixteen: Batman Beyond Lightray looking worried at Orion, who is faced away from the camera. Lightray has his eye injury and bandage, Orion is maskless.

Box seventeen: New 52 Orion and Lightray relaxing on the grass. Lightray is pressed into Orion's side with a knee over his stomach. They're smiling at eachother.

Final image: Several small figures, showing Lightray and Orion together as they appear in Scribblenauts, New 52, Source of Freedom, The Dark Side, Mike Mignola, Lantern corps, DC Mech, and Dark Multiverse. Lightray from Superman/Batman: Generations and Earth-51, and Orion as his 80's costume, Kenner Super Powers, two Lego forms, and his clone from The Great Darkness saga.

END ID]

1: Orihound and Lightstray from the New Dogs (Earth C-Minus). Inspired by the art in their first/only appearance Captain Carrot and the Final Ark #3, by Scott Shaw, Scott Koblish, Tom Luth, and Drew Moore.

2: Thorion and Bald’r the Lightbringer of the New Asgods (Amalgam Earth). Inspired by the art . 

3: Lightray and Orion as members of the Lantern corps, designed by me. In this universe, an Apokolips-raised Orion loses all sense of control when given the red ring and decimates the population of Apokolips, then turns on Atrocitus for manipulating his mind. Seeing a threat to all Lantern Corps, Lightray of New Genesis volunteers to defeat Orion and retrieve his ring. Lightray’s design is based on his formal wear from volume 3, Orion’s is based on his rebirth uniform. OK i dont know if they can work out in this one honestly i just thought it’d be cool, theoretically 

4. Lightraydactyl and Orionodon, designed by me. The JL fighting Darkseid instead of Orion is a pet peeve of mine, but Jurassic League didnt even leave room for the New Gods to exist. i love the dinosaurs comic though Lightray was pretty straightforward, Orion’s design took inspiration from Darklyoseid’s canon design by Juan Gedeon, a sabertooth tiger (for Tigra), and Orion’s main universe costume for the colours.

5. Orion and Lightray Mechs. DC Mech killed Orion off in issue one boooooo! but it did mean i didnt have to design my own for his (Lightray's is mine though). This was inspired by one of the covers for Pacific Rim, because I will be thinking about a pacrim AU for them forever now.

6. Hunter and Neon Black. These guys aren’t actually LR and Orion, just two random inmates disguised as evil versions of them iirc, but I liked Neon Black’s design.

7. Orion and Lightray, Mike Mignola’s scrapped 1990′s New Gods animated film designs.

8: Orion and Lightray from Future State: Green Lantern, Lightray was designed by me.

9: O’Brian and Flightrisk of the New Guards from Radioactive Man.

10. Orion and Lightray (and Barda) from a personal AU of mine, using designs inspired by the Gods and Monsters film.

11. Just the Gods and Monsters death scene, to break things up.

12. Orion and Lightray inspired by Jack Kirby’s art.

13. Young Justice.

14. Scrapped New 52 Lightray and Jim Lee’s unused Orion design.

15. DCAU/Batman Beyond

16. Superman: The Dark Side. I was going to make Lightray transparent at first, like ambiguously a hallucination or a ghost or something but i didnt like how it looked all that much.

17. New 52 - I sometimes like to imagine these guys are from like a Pocket dimension modeled after the Fourth World, where everyone is shallow and awful like n52 canon/fandom perception.

18. Minis - Scribblenauts, Lightray's older appearance in Superman/Batman: Generations (he has an earlier appearance similar to his main universe suit, but with a yellow tone), New 52, Source of Freedom Orion plus the miscoloured Lightray that appears twice, The Dark Side, Earth-51 Lightray, 1977 Orion, Mignola again, Kenner Super Powers Orion, Lantern Corps AU, Orion effigy from The Great Darkness Saga, both Lego Orions, original illustration colours, DC mech, and Dark Multiverse: Flashpoint.

a few months ago i got to finish with this very long term project :D thank you to everyone who encouraged me with kind words while working on this :D The final Lightrion week pic is finished and ready to post whenever i get around to it.

[just-null]

Dear noritoshi cult leader!!!!!! I wanted to know if you have any recommendations for other artists or content creators that post for our boy noritoshi?

my devout cult member!!!!!!

I don't know many artists who are still active or still draw Noritoshi stuff. I mostly get my content from pixiv or pinterest even if it's.... severely rare.... and even then, they've only drawn him once, and that's all but it's something!

btw when I say some aren't active, I mean they haven't posted in a while. fingers crossed they cOME BACK PLEASE GOD I MISS YOU.

My list is in no particular order unless you count who came to mind first?? nonetheless, here are some Noritoshi artists that I know of/taken inspiration from

kamo_sympathy [Twitter] haven't been active for a while, but I still enjoy the stuff they have there. Very good!!

getou_0203_ [Twitter] also semi inactive. they're a Getou, Gojo, and Choso enjoyer too. how they drew Noritoshi is smth I inject in my soul.

ohayo_akachan [Twitter] again... kinda inactive, but still. I enjoy their content a lot while I can't really understand what they're saying. DeepL my saving grace.. their style is v similar to the anime style, which I find super cool!!

Gotharcheologist or @/alegnace [Twitter and Tumblr] They're a chosonori shipper and active! I really like how they draw Noritoshi and Choso. how they draw blood is so good, how they draw faces is so good, THEIR ARTSTYLE IS SO FUCKING GOOD

magical_candy15 [Twitter] They didn't post a lot, nor are they active as of now, but the few scenarios were really good and fed me in my drought for a while. I love u..

rin5su0605 [Twitter] A Todo×Noritoshi account with some love to the rest of the Kyoto group too! This person was active as of June 2023, but I'm using copium. I really like how they draw.. and the color choices oh my fuck.

mecuru_MECU (?) [Twitter] I'm a bit iffy on this one. They look to not be doing jjk anymore, but they were once into Noritoshi if you go to their earlier posts. Their linework is beautiful, like their colors! there's something about their work I really like.

and that's all I have, I think? I know there are others out there that i don't know or don't remember, but I'll probably add them over time if i find more or if anyone else has someone in mind to recommend in the comments of this post!

yoshida_jyu [Twitter] They mainly post in a comic format! theres also some Megumi×Noritoshi shipping so if thats your thing, this dude's your dude. i have no idea what theyre saying but they draw cute expressions. also draws mainly Noritoshi, Kokichi, and Megumi

16shelter [Twitter} also a Megumi×Noritoshi shipper. Little warning: their art can be nsfw/suggestive at times, so be careful w that if its not your thing. Their anatomy is good AND POSING im grabbing my pen.. also, this person finds Arata cute, so theres some art with him too!

[absolutebl]

Destiny Seeker - Thai BL 2023

quickie review 

I binged this one so here ya go! 

Destiny Seeker is a darn near perfect pulp. 

Basically it’s 3 tsundere/sunshine pairings on some iteration of enemies to lovers. At least one half of each does a decent amount of pining and there’s lots of kisses. All pairs are likable. 

There is nothing overly complicated about this show, except the manufactured conflict. Love triangles abound but none are seriously KBL about it. Absolutely everyone is gay (in a 2 Moons franchise kinda way) also absolutely everyone has the same hairdresser (from late 90s Seattle). There is also quite a bit of seriously fun word play and linguistic jokes.

Classic tropes I haven’t seen in ages popped up, like post-it love notes, the sexy water bottle, sponge bath, etc... It’s higher heat but awkward about it (although there is an a--eating scene and that’s v rare). It left a distinct impression that the actors were pushed beyond their comfort zones. So there’s room to be conflicted if you want. I wasn’t. 

The baby freshman (above) have the funnest story arc and wonderful conversations about consent. The most appealing side couple, PikeMeen, had the best chemistry. But having superior sides dishes is par for the course in Thai BL. I hope we see Pre-Saint Nattapat Suwanich again, he’s a cutie. 

The final episode had a 3 year separation instead of KBL’s 1. I guess Thailand has to do everything longer when it comes to BL? Also some super creepy masks.

All in all? 

It’s fun. Better story than 2 Moons 3 but not as good chemistry from the leads, still I’d put it in that camp. As a couple, the leads when they get together are possibly the sappiest ever fielded by a BL. And that is saying something. And what it’s saying is that this show goes to a level of cringe I didn’t actually think I would ever see on my screen after SCOY. 

Final thoughts? 

A decent pulp, few issues, good chemistry and heat from all 3 couples, plus communication and queer rep. Sublimely cheesy but a good rainy day offering with tons of rewatch potential. 

8/10

RECOMMENDED 

find it (maybe) on WeTv

(source)

[timextoxhajima]

Sonder: Part V [Final]

Parts: I II III IV V

member: enhypen heeseung! x oc! woo ki yeom [3rd person pov]

genre: coming of age, slice of life, angst, romance

w/c: 4k

taglist: @missychief1404 (i had this chapter written out months ago, but you're the reason why i decided to post it! thank you for reading <3)

warnings: topics on religion, distressed relationships, mental health (I want to leave an a/n here that I grew up with my maternal family being Buddhists so what I've written is based off what I researched online and the way her family practised Buddhism. I'm personally a free-tinker and this narrative is not in any way meant to offend nor support any particular religion.)

synopsis: after being kicked out of her home, Woo Ki Yeom is forced to live life on her own. struggling to find herself in the midst of her chaotic life, she meets lee heeseung, who, like her, can't give any more fucks to life than she does.

"n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own."

Author's Note:

Before you embark on the closing chapter of Sonder, I would first like to offer you a virtual hug! <3 Sonder is a love letter to all lost relationships (be it familial, friends, romantic). In the last few months of 2023, I lost a couple of friends whom I trusted. I'm still in the midst of healing and recovering from it.

Sonder started out as an angry rant when I felt anger from the falling out, but I couldn't bring myself to continue because at some point, I felt like this wasn't the right way to cope. I was still angry and hadn't come to terms with it. But the longer it took, the more I realised I just wanted to heal, and that things truly just happened. No amount of anger was going to undo what was done. They had apologised for the things they did, but I reacted by cutting them out, and I'm not sorry for it.

The chapter has ended, but the book doesn't.

I hope you have found comfort in Sonder, be it through the eyes of Ki Yeom who represents my anger and process of healing, or Heeseung, who is lost in life and has no direction. Perhaps through the eyes of Ji Yeon, who simply did what she thought was right but yet it wasn't, or Ki Yeom's father who had neglected to care for something when it was in need. Last but not least, Ahn Yoo Hyeon, who is my innate desire to be my own person, but cannot, due to the things that naturally bind her to her purpose in life.

I'm not sure when I will write again, or if I ever will, but if I were to leave one last story for my readers who have been with me for the last couple of years since my Capital Letters and Hostis days, I thought it was appropriate to write Sonder.

My ask is always open and I still do check Tumblr every day. I'll try my best to respond if any. I hope that my words, stories, and characters stick with my readers for years to come.

Writing for everybody has been an absolute pleasure.

With Love,

Dana

"So this is the million-dollar book!"

"She'll kill you if she knows you touched it."

"Have you?"

"I didn't touch it but she showed me once."

Gasp.

"Yeah, go through my things while you're packing," Ki Yeom pushes her way into her apartment, a folded box in hand.

"Jun Yeol touched it first."

"I was curious," He closes the book and places it on the table. "It doesn't kill to be a little curious where all your ideas are stored, is it? I can't believe you've shown it to Heeseung but not us!"

"In my defense, I'm rarely curious about her shit," Heeseung raises his hands in surrender and shrugs.

"Then how did you get her to show it to you?" Soo Min squints at him.

"I caught him snooping around my stuff so I caved and let him see it," Ki Yeom finally gets the folded box into shape and pulls out the tape.

Her colleagues' jaws drop as they scream 'unfair', rolling their eyes as they pick up the book to flip through it again.

Ki Yeom can hear their whispering as she packs her newly bought pot-and-pan and kitchenware, and it cracks a little smile on her lips, knowing that she would miss their voices and their bickering in the years she will be away.

In truth, she doesn't know if she would even be coming back.

They must think she's selfish for taking up the offer that their boss had offered her elsewhere and overseas, but even if they did think that, it's not her problem, is it?

She gets the box taped up and she stands up straight, turning around to see that they've gone back to helping her pack the rest of her things. But Heeseung was still, backfacing her, head looking down and his arms barely moving from where she could see him.

So, she walks over and tiptoes, trying her best to look over his shoulders without letting him know she was right behind him.

"Hard to believe this was six months ago."

Ki Yeom relaxes, rolling her eyes as she walks around him.

In his hands was the letter her father wrote her, with the wrong unit number written on the envelope.

"What can I say, time waits for no man," Ripping the letter out of his hands, she crumples it into a ball, playing basketball with it into the trash bag they had by the door.

As the ball of paper lands in the plastic, Ahn Yoo Hyeon appears by the door, purse hanging from her forearm and sunglasses pushed onto the crown of her head.

"I was wondering if they had taken the day off to come help you."

"Honestly, a waste of time!" Jun Yeol dramatically replies. "She has nothing."

"It's good to travel light where you're going anyway," Ahn Yoo Hyeon takes a deep breath and looks around the apartment. "Let me know if you need anything before you fly. I'll see you on Sunday at eight."

Then she turns around on her heels and leaves.

The funniest thing about the last six months is that Ki Yeom wondered how different it would have been if her 'arcs' had been spaced out or in the wrong sequence. How strange was it to have all the events lined up almost one after another?

Sometimes, just for fun, she would imagine if she hadn't met Heeseung, and her father hadn't written the wrong address. She wouldn't have met him because neither of them cared enough to talk to each other.

Imagine if Ji Yeon hadn't showed up. Ki Yeom knew for sure that nothing would've changed. Ji Yeon would still be texting her every now and then, begging her to hang out when she didn't want to.

Imagine if her father hadn't showed up either - Ki Yeom sometimes wonders if he's going to come back again, find out she's moved away, and think about where she's gone.

Then again, that's not her problem either, is it?

"You left a tissue in your machine last week, you know?" Mr Hsien nags at her the moment Ki Yeom appears in his line of sight.

"Sorry!" Placing her laundry bag down, Heeseung helps to push a token into her machine first. "I'll make sure to check this time round."

"You better. Else I'll charge you two times next week!"

Ki Yeom glances at Heeseung. A knowing smile.

"You're not gonna tell him?"

"What for?" She loads her clothes in, fingers digging into the pockets as she does. "He'll be more than happy I'm no longer using his washing machines. Besides, you'll be here to tell him."

"I'm not gonna have a conversation with him telling him where you've gone and why you're gone."

"Well, too bad."

After the washing machine starts its usual humming and vibrating, Ki Yeom sits next to him on the row of seats, listening to the TikTok and Instagram Reels play on his phone while she looks through the digital documents that the art organisation had emailed her.

Ki Yeom hadn't thought that four years of isolation and loneliness could be undone in just six months. Maybe 'undone' is the wrong word.

Though she must admit, she didn't know what she was waiting for. In hindsight, she wonders what it was like to aimlessly tear through each day. It wasn't even that long ago, so she does remember that feeling of emptiness. She wonders if that's the exact same feeling that Heeseung has been dealing with, and probably will have to for longer.

She considers herself lucky. That for her, this four-year chapter is coming to an end.

But it's bittersweet. There's nothing attractive about being in constant fear and worry of having someone unwanted showing up at your doorstep or leaving you messages, but it reminds you that someone out there is still looking for you. This knowledge that someone still gives a shit about you... that's the thing that's addictive and hard to let go of.

Sometimes, she wonders if this is a good thing. Even though she has closed the chapter with her parents and Ji Yeon, it meant that she no longer had a reason to be interlinked with them and vice versa. Her parents are just her parents now. Ji Yeon is now an ex-best friend.

She looks up from her phone and ever so slightly, turns to Heeseung, whose soul is quite literally in his phone screen.

There wasn't enough time.

To explore. This friendship.

Or whatever you called it.

Ki Yeom had never crushed on anybody. She wonders what it must feel like. She always does. She had watched Ji Yeon entertain the boys that ogled over her at school, but she never had one herself.

She recalls the first time she met Heeseung. She was uncouth. Rude, cold and nonchalant. Which boy would like that kind of girl?

She snickers to herself.

"What?" Heeseung asks without looking up from his phone. "The video wasn't even that funny."

"Nothing," Ki Yeom shakes her head. "Though, can I ask you something? Feel free to ignore me or change the subject if you can't answer."

Heeseung hums in response. He scrolls.

"What is it like to have a crush on someone? What's it like to... be in university?"

Such simple questions.

But Heeseung feels stumped. He knew Ki Yeom didn't have the luxury to attend university, but he never thought she would think and ask about it.

He stops and turns down the volume first, then locks his phone and puts it down in his lap.

"The second question's easier to answer. Depending on the crowd you hang out with, university is either a four-year-long party before you go into the working world or... where you go through your existential crises before you go into the working world."

"So either way, it's kind of a shitshow, just whether it's on the fun side or the depressing side?"

"Bingo," Heeseung snaps his fingers and points at her. "The first question, however... I think it's different for most of people. A crush could mean many things. Like an eye-candy, or just a periodic infatuation just 'cause the person's cool or pretty. Or it could be some love-at-first-sight shit that's genuine."

"Do you believe in that? Love at first sight?"

"No," Heeseung shakes his head and puckers his lips in thought. "I mean when you're younger, yeah. I had a crush when I was a kid. Liked her for a couple of years, even though she rejected me right at the start. But my perseverance got me a short run with her."

"'Short run'? How short?" Ki Yeom smiles.

"Like... three months."

"Wow," She laughs and scratches the back of her neck. "Three years for three months?"

"That's exactly what a friend of mine said."

"But you said that was when you were younger. What about recent times? Has it changed for you? I never... had the chance to like someone. When I was in high school with Ji Yeon, I was so caught up in finding myself... with my art and dealing with... being poor. Then not being able to go to college pretty much sealed the deal. My last chance to be a student and a kid and meet people and fall in love and have break-ups was in high school and I didn't know."

Heeseung squints at her. "I don't think that going through all that in high school is advised. I mean, yes, that's when everybody goes through all that, but like... usually it's stupid and messy."

"At least they have the privilege of going through something stupid and messy and not have to worry about... other things. I thought that's what being a teenager is about. Being obnoxiously ignorant about everything else... only thinking about the guy or girl you liked and whether they would ask you out on a date."

He tilts his head at her, eyes looking away as he thinks.

"I think you were destined to... lead a life that the regular person doesn't get to experience. I know how terrible and shit it sounds because it just sounds like I'm trying to comfort you, but I do think you're special. In a resilient and talented type of way. That you were pulled off the average, regular path, and forced onto a better, more rewarding one. Albeit tough."

"Risky game."

"I don't think that if you had spent just a single minute thinking about a guy or a girl... it would've been worth it. It's like asking a God to worry about what color I should dye my hair."

A pause. Ki Yeom nods, a gentle smile on her lips.

"Thank you. For putting it that way."

Another pause. Heeseung was thinking. Then he parts his lips, a breath coming out before a word does.

"For me, I take awhile to like a person. It doesn't come easy nowadays, especially that I'm busy trying to find life fun. But I think right now... I wouldn't know it. I think I would've liked someone without knowing, and then something would happen that made me realise I liked this person."

"So like, 'never knew it until you lost it' kind of concept?"

"Something like that."

Ki Yeom hums in response.

"What about you? I mean, hypothetically, what do you think you're like? If you had a crush?"

"Hm," She rests her elbow on her crossed leg, chin resting on her folded fingers. "I probably have a curse of some sort. All that talk about me being on a more special path would give me tunnel vision, to the point that even if I did like someone and I knew, I don't think I'd stop my life to entertain it."

And just like that.

For some reason, it felt like they had a whole other conversation without even having it. There's a strange, bubbly feeling in Ki Yeom's stomach when she realises how quiet it's gone, on top of the machines' whirring.

She turns to look at him, whose eyes are a little bit sad, like they had heard something he knew was coming, but didn't want to hear. They were flitting between hers, as if waiting for her to say something else.

He blinks, then turns to look at his hands, thumb running over the mild callouses that have formed from playing the piano. Then Heeseung turns back to her, head tilted and eyes unable to focus.

"In an alternate universe... maybe we'll meet in school. And... you'll be the nonchalant, quiet, I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anything girl, and I might find it in myself to be curious about you... In a life that you didn't have to worry about your friends or the way you reacted, about your family or money. In a life where you could be 'obnoxiously ignorant'."

"In a life where I'd be your only problem. A crush that you wouldn't know how to fix or solve. Or maybe leave you with a heartbreak that would change your perspective of life and become a better person."

"I'll admit that I was worried. That I'd be the heartbroken one after you leave, knowing that you bought a one-way ticket and have no plans to return. But I'm no longer worried, because... I think I'd rather be heartbroken while you're still here."

By now he's looking at her, eyes slightly widened and glistening.

Ki Yeom's insides have been stretched, crushed and wringed, like towels on a spring cleaning day.

This gut-wrenching feeling felt all so familiar, and yet, so different.

Heeseung blinks and takes a deep breath, stretching as he leans back.

"I watched you fight your way out of your own life. Your own problems came knocking on your door and you somehow pushed through all those chapters and mishaps and everything. I was not going to be the person who confessed and made you feel like you had to stay."

Then he turns and looks at her, eyes still full of wander despite everything he's seen her go through.

"But now that I know how you feel and what you think, I'm thankful that... You care about yourself. I'm glad that you are the I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anything girl."

"You know sometimes I hate being that girl, don't you?"

"I know you do, but you are, and there's nothing wrong with it."

Ki Yeom frowns, trying to accept it; trying to accept herself; trying to accept that some chapters were never meant to be written. Some arcs were never meant to happen.

Perhaps this acceptance was an arc of itself.

In another life.

On the day Ahn Yoo Hyeon met Woo Ki Yeom, she was having a particularly horrid day. Coming from her, that was unusual. She would never know if it was fate or some kind of sign, but it was the first time in ten years that it rained on her brother's death anniversary.

Just earlier that morning, she had to brave the rain to get to the florist to pick up the flowers she had ordered. But not only was she almost completely drenched by the time she had gotten there, the florist had lost the order form and forgotten to make the bouquet.

Half her day had already been ruined, and she wasn't even at the cemetery.

But her brother's best friend, showed up like an angel, to the florist as she was making the bouquet in a frantic manner. It's normal to see people freeze and get uncomfortable when they meet Oh Jihoon, for he was absolutely covered in tattoos. This included his face, his ears, the inside of his lips and into corners of the body you couldn't see.

"She giving you a hard time?" Yoo Hyeon remembers him teasing her to the florist.

"My apologies! I lost the order form, but the moment she stepped in- I remembered that she had ordered it-"

"Take your time! We're not in a rush."

Yoo Hyeon turns to him, brows furrowed. She lifts her sunglasses and glares at her with those angry orbs that her brother had as well.

"What?" He sits on a nearby stool, holding his phone between his thumb and index finger and gestures out the shop. "Take a look at the weather, would you? You're gonna make her wrap the bouquet up nicely then let it soak and drown in the rain?"

She huffs, wanting to retort but having nothing to say.

"How's the parlour going? Last you told me, you hired a couple of youngsters?"

She glares at him once more, then puts her glasses back on when she decides that he's right.

"The girl's a tomboy gangster and the boy's a gay unicorn. Funnily enough, they seem close."

Jihoon laughs boisterously. Yoo Hyeon can hear her brother's laughter in his.

"You sayin' that he's gay because you know for a fact?"

"He's got bright pink hair dyed down to his roots, and he talks like a girl."

"Hey, now," Jihoon raises both palms and chuckles.

"I think I know when I see a gay man. Plus, I say that with zero offence. What's wrong with calling someone gay if it's just an observation?"

"Ah- There's the education talking," He pauses, finger playing with the piercings on his ears. "You sound like your brother."

"Shocker."

"You know, back in the day-"

By the time Yoo Hyeon had finished rolling her eyes at Jihoon's throwback, the florist had finished wrapping up the bouquet and apologised for the hundredth time. Initially rejecting the payment, Yoo Hyeon knew better than to refuse the service, handing her a hundred dollar bill and telling her to keep the change.

Jihoon had given her a soft 'ooh' in a bid to praise her coolness, and honestly? Yoo Hyeon could barely hide the smile.

The cemetery was about a thirty minutes drive out of the city.

"I always wondered what he'd be doing. Like what would he be working as? Would he be married and have kids?"

"No clue. But, honestly? Maybe zookeeper," He places both hands on the steering wheel as he turns down the winding path, rain drenching the windshield despite the wipers clearing it every second. "Suits him. Not having to wear office attires or deal with people. Married with kids? Not sure. Depends on whether he knocked someone up by accident."

Yoo Hyeon smiles to herself, eyes watching as the trees blur past and the city's skyline blending into the mountains behind.

"Anyway, your interview. You just had one recently, didn't you? For a touring art organisation?" She turns to him.

"Yeah. I'm still waiting on the results but I think I'm gonna get it."

"And when you do, you would have to move?"

"Seasonally, yeah. I guess I'd be spending months overseas, at a time."

"So, you wouldn't be here? On some years?"

Jihoon goes quiet. "Maybe. But you know I'll try my best to come back."

She hums in response. "It'd be different without you here."

"I know, but you know... One of the last things he told me was to never look back. He always told me that the damage had been done, so what for writhe in your own shit and cry about it? Don't think he'd be all that pleased if he knew we were fussing about him. In fact, sometimes when we visit him... he might not even be there."

Now, Yoo Hyeon can't stifle the laugh that comes out.

Later that day, Jihoon had wanted to drop her off at home, knowing that she was drenched that morning and knowing that it wasn't an easy day for her. But something in her told her to go back to the parlour. For whatever reason it was, she would never know.

But grief works in strange ways.

Yoo Hyeon knew that, to some, it was a stretch to think that her brother was the one who led her to Ki Yeom, who was starving and had obviously cried her eyes out when she found her down the street from the parlor, hiding herself from the rain.

But she will always think it was, because it was comforting to think that perhaps, her brother was watching over her, and even the people who might need her help.

She doesn't know why she hired Ki Yeom so quickly. She doesn't know why she felt the need to help her find accommodation. She doesn't know why she felt like she saw something in Ki Yeom, that would lead her to this very moment.

At the airport. Seeing her off. Into Jihoon's care where she will most likely blossom into a whole other person artistically.

"Jihoon's abit weird when you first meet him, but don't mind it. He's covered in tattoos and that's the only thing that's scary about him. Otherwise, he's a loser," She pulls off her glasses and folds the arms inwards.

Ki Yeom smiles and nods, hugging her jacket in her arms.

"Thank you, Ms Ahn. For taking care of me, ever since we met. I really wouldn't be here without you. I mean it. And it's true. Nothing can refute it."

The older takes a deep breath and raises a brow, "You have my brother to thank for that. He's dead, but I'd like to think he was there the day I found you on that street. Jihoon will tell you more when you get there."

Something in Ki Yeom turns sad and sour as she processed Yoo Hyeon's words. She purses her lips, offering a small smile.

"If you ever come back, I expect you to return."

"Of course."

Yoo Hyeon nods with intention, and slides her sunglasses back on.

Ki Yeom turns around, in her peripheral vision, noticing Soo Min and Jun Yeol getting into another bicker as Heeseung approaches her.

He sucks in a deep breath and shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders shrugged up to his ears.

"New arc, new season."

She smiles, turning to look at the gate into the departure hall.

"It was nice... being a character in one of your seasons."

A knowing exchange of looks. Ki Yeom doesn't know what to say. Heeseung doesn't either. What else is there left to say?

"Will you hate me if I end up treating you like Ji Yeon?"

Heeseung parts his lips and frowns, then a smile creeps up on his lips. "Maybe. But you know what? I don't think I'd blame you. I'm just... a character in a season."

Ki Yeom takes a deep breath, and reaches out to wrap her arms around him, pressing her head into his collar and shutting her eyes.

"You'll be the character that everybody shipped me with, but never got together, and would write fanfics or canons about us if we happened."

She can hear him chuckle in his chest as he returns the hug. He intentionally lowers his head and nearer to her ear, "Accurate canon."

For the first time in Ki Yeom's life, she felt truly free.

Free from all the things that kept her here, free from all her worries and concerns. She was now going to live the life of one of those girls online, talking about how they moved abroad to work and explore a new culture and lead a new life. Ironically, she worried if she was going become one of those girls.

But even if she did, it's not her problem.

Is it?

[kanmom51]

Firstly, I wanted to say I love your page and appreciate your honest perspective when it comes to BTS and jikook in particular. I am an “older” Army and can appreciate the viewpoint of someone who’s lived life a little and has seen many types of relationships. It’s very hard to not realize there’s something between JK and Jimin when you’ve seen examples of it time and time again in your own life or those around you. So thank you for making me feel less crazy!

I haven’t followed your page for very long and realize you may have touched on this in the past, but I was wondering what your thoughts are on this: Could V sometimes bringing up Jungkook/Jimin together or separately (usually Jungkook…let’s be real) and mentioning that they’ve hung out with him or seemingly being “encouraging” of a certain ship, possibly be his odd way of trying to distract from the real relationship he knows exists between jikook? Like in his own special Teahyung way be trying to help? For a long time, there has always been something that didn’t quite sit right with me when it came to V. I think it was his constant need for attention….don’t get me wrong, I love many things about him as well and know he can’t be very sweet and thoughtful and funny and endearing. I love them all very much. But am wondering what you think about V sounding like he sometimes encourages a taekook ship (ie, the last surprise live at JKs house or the live where he mentioned gaming with JK) because maybe in his own special way, he’s trying to protect? He does tend to do things in a very unique way. I don’t know! Let me know what you think!

Hey @sweetbslm108, welcome and thank you.

And hi @nut2019 😊

Now, I know both of these asks are kind of on the different sides of the spectrum, but I kind of felt like they can be answered together, because of the one communality, and that's, but of course, Tae THE MAN.

Also, before starting I need to say this is all my opinion. Take it or leave it.

I think I kinda talked about this here a bit too:

Let me just clarify what Tae shared in his IG story yesterday @nut 2019. It was a photo and a clip taken on the night after the movie premiere that JK and Tae went to, which was the 24-25 April 2023 - which as of today is 3 weeks ago. It's clearly that night and it's also clear it's not a date or an outing of the two alone, but a group outing with Tae and his friends (a couple from the Wooga squad and a couple I personally do not recognize). Yes, he posted it on Yellow day, but clearly has zero to do with that day.

I don't think Tae is encouraging the ship, but as an agent of chaos, he might be enjoying the aftermath of his handy work, maybe a little too much, lol.

Look, let's get serious here for a sec.

I love Tae to bits. I think it was even in one of the comments to the post I linked that someone mentioned thinking he's neuro divergent, and I was going "YES, FINALLY", because I've been saying this since forever. I'm no psychiatrist, so obviously I won't be handing out a diagnosis here, but, that said, his behavior, his quirkiness, his lack of understanding social queues and others emotions at times. The way he just says what pops to head, no matter if it has anything to do with the subject, and no matter what the consequences might be (take his 2015 radio interview fiasco literally outing JM on live air).

Tae is who he is. Always has been. And we all need to remember that the others all love him. All of them (including those we tend to champion). They might be frustrated with him at times. Angry with him. Might want to end him at times (from what JK spilled about the dumpling fight I kind of feel that was one of those times, lol), but you know, we all have those days with our loved ones too, so yeah.

In any case, whatever it may be, since the hiatus Tae has started to move in a certain recognized pattern that many Jikookers aren't happy with.

I understand the frustration that not only Jikookers have with him when it comes to that (and I'm saying that Tae stans are also feeling it). It feels like he lacks the energy to give to the fandom, interact with them, and maybe he feels that by dropping JK's name or posting a pic or clip with him he's making them happy (obviously aware of how much JK is loved), all while he obviously also is well aware of the chaos he's creating by doing so (claiming that he doesn't is a little naïve). It's kind of a minimum work maximum impact situation.

You are right @sweetbslm108 about Tae's mind being different to ours, it feels like his thought process is on a different parallel level. It's not by chance that JM called him his alien, lol. But saying that, I really don't think that this is his twisted way of going about protecting Jikook. I, personally, have no issues with him mentioning JK if it's part of the natural development of the conversation, kind of like he did during his live a few weeks back in the car. Doing so while talking about this and that, maybe also mentioning the others. They are good friends and clearly have gotten closer over the last few months (I'd say them being left for last and JM being MIA for JK did that), and it's natural they spend time together and it's great if he let's us know about it. But why only JK lately? That's what I keep asking myself, because he's not the only member he's in touch with or spent time with in the past few months. And coming live for a few minutes and dropping JK's name for what seems so purposeful, so much so that I've seen several Tae stans complaining about it. Because it doesn't feel natural. It doesn't feel like he's coming to talk to army or update them.

And I feel like it's ok to criticize him, criticize his behavior.

JK himself (there I go name dropping) said they are only human, which they are.

I keep saying it too, human beings with feelings and wants and needs, not 2 dimensional characters like many fans see them as.

And as such, they are not infallible. And they are definitely not beyond reproach.

And saying out loud, sounding said criticism, it doesn't make you a hater.

We criticize our loved ones, reprimand them when we feel they are doing wrong, and we do it out of love. So what's the difference here?

It should be part of the open discussion. Those who think it's wrong, those who don't, all respectful, no hate.

NO HATE!!

We don't do hate!!!

We love all 7 members.

We might feel more of an emotional connection with some rather than others, but we love them all, each in their own way.

And if I wasn't clear about it, then that includes Tae, even if sometimes he does things that might be infuriating.

My daughters can infuriate me at times, doesn't make me love them any less. Also doesn't stop me from letting them know I don't agree with their behavior.

I will end this by saying that we are all different people, we come from different backgrounds, different places in the world, different professions or schooling, different upbringings, different cultures, different life experiences, just different. All those are our baselines. The things that make us who we are, what we think, what we do.

And being different, all gathering here, voicing our opinions, talking to each other, hearing each other out, that will, at the end of the day make us better people. I do believe that. Being able to listen to one another and at times allow ourselves to be convinced one way or another, that makes us better.

Bottom line:

Tae is an agent of chaos. We love him, even when said chaos he is causing can be infuriating (and the thing is, all he's doing is mentioning his friend or posting a pic of them together, but it's what transpires from that due to mainly I-army that irks us so much).

We are also allowed to call him out on it.

No hate. Period.

Have a civil discussion.

You can voice your opinions here, as long as it's respectful and without hate. Not towards the members and not towards each other.

[goitale]

INTRODUCTION POST!!!

hello! i'm goi! they/them pronouns please!

NOTE: i reblog alot! i have featured tags (ex. #gois yaps) for my own blogs!! please use them if theres a flood of jesstra in ur face LOL

i am a nonbinary lesbian, who is taken by a v pretty person! ((IM A MINOR))

yes i use a typing quirk! þ=th

my favorite color is orange :3 favorite combo is purple and orange. also i love halloween, which might be a factor

im currently very interested in: Minecraft: Story Mode <3, Phighting (Roblox), Splatoon, Old technology!!!, my gf's ocs!!

i have comfort ships!!! which are currently: Jesstra, Pearlina, Agent24, Array

PLZ INTERACT: mutual interests, jesstra shippers, jesskas shippers, pearlina shippers, awesome artists, LGBTQIA+!!

PLZ DNI: basic dni critera, homophobic, transphobic, furry haters, bad people supporters (ex. vivziepop,..), nsfw accounts (btw no 18+ jokes here.), under 13, etc. + aidesse, medhammer, and other toxic/problematic shippers please

>>'toxic' shipping is when you ship people just for the toxic part/angst part and not for them to actually be happy , toxic relationships r not fun!./info

>>'problematic' shipping is when its immoral. yes, vinespace and medhammer is immoral/lh u can ship whoever , idc just keep it legal and safe, but i dont forward immoral stuff. sorry medhammer fanbase/gen! /info

fun facts:

im a chronic reblogger, please look at my featured tags for my own content!

>>>>>my important tags are #gois favs (my favorite posts!), #goi being goi (funny or interesting posts that show who i am!) and the au tags-- the tags are to help find what content i post ofc, cus or else youd never find my own content. and sadly not everything is completely organized but we live!

my favorites r in #gois favs , where its stuff i wanna look at again! if u get a reblog w þat tag, you won/gen

i rarely change my profile!

my music taste stinks, my bad chat

i play roblox alot!

i have a ps3, 3ds, wii, minicassette tape recorder/player, and more old stuff!!

i do wax melting when i send mail, letters, etc.!

i love cats!!

i write ao3 stuff! mostly of dead source content fandoms or ocs!

now for a wall of buttons:

music i listened to on loop recently!! (no i dont have spotify):

+508 songs... i love game music!

we can b mutuals if you know me on discord!!! :3 just do an ask to lmk or else i wont follow back my baddd

pronouns page:

idrk what else to say my badddd

feel free to ask questions or @ me in cool posts!

HIDDEN FUN FACT!!!! THIS BLOG IS COLOR CODED! pink = misc but cool thing

u can guess what þe 'key' is :3

[rubctosis]

.ᐟ.ᐟ   ⸺     # 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒     a  private  independent  semi-selective  /      canon  divergent  &  headcanon  based  𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑    𝐃.    𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑    𝐋𝐀𝐖   from  Eiichiro  Oda's  𝙊𝙉𝙀    𝙋𝙄𝙀𝘾𝙀.    &&  highly  selective,  rarely  follows  first,  mutuals  only.  oc,  multi  and  crossover  friendly.  personal  blogs  and  minors  dni.  Blog will  contain  dark  themes,  slight   mentions  of  gore  and  nsfw.    low activity.       est.   Oct 31.   2023 Loved    by    𝐑𝐄𝐍    (    he/him , 25+    ).  

𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 ♡ :   ofhope  ,   particlecreator     ,         kaizokugaris    ,   sillygum   cmdrace   ,    heavens-sin     , OnePiecc   ,   devilofthecresentisle

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋:  Cipher , howl pendragon

I.   CARRD.      II.   HEADCANONS.      III.   PROMPTS.      IV. PLAYLIST    V. STARTER

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐒 - 0. / 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 - 13. / 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 - 10.

icon border / post banners : ©noxcave

I. my activity is going to be medium to low for as i am busy working ridiculous hours outside of tumblr. please keep in mind my time zone is [ GMT-8 ]. my free days will change but as of now im free Wednesdays and Sundays. and just because im free it doesnt guarantee a immediate reply to threads. or there are times im not mentally there to write for my muse. please give me time. if you lose interest let me know so i wont reply or if you want to start a new thread. feel free to send any prompts from ask memes i reblog at any time. asks are okay to make into threads. multiple threads im okay with as well.

II. i normally write paragraphs - often times more. i don't expect my partners to match me. please write in how youre most comfotable with. just dont half ass it. i also format my posts with small font, colors, and icons. i don't expect that to be matched either. im just dramatic.

III. pairings - i absolutely love it. the possible character development, chemistry and compatibility. i am open to pairings whether its with ocs or canon characters. -though would love to talk it through with muns to see if muses have chemistry. crackships and rarepairs are included.

want to see if our muses are compatible? - send a dm my way and we can talk it out :>

IV. NSFW \\ dark themes will be present on this blog and tagged accordingly using assigned trigger tags. please let me know if i didnt tag. im very smooth brain . but due to such content if you are under the age of 18, do not fucking follow me. im blocking on sight.

[f4unlette]

𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𓍯𓂃

꒰ 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜: i go by nana and use they/them pronouns. i’m bisexual but am more inclined towards homosexuality. in terms of gender identity, i identify as genderqueer.

aquarius sun, capricorn moon and leo rising.

i’m an intp-t, atheist, feminist (trans inclusive) and leftist.

i have a cherub tattoo on my forearm :)

꒰ my pinterest ꒱

although i often post moodboards, this is mainly a wl account! if you are currently recovering from an e4ting d1sorder, i’d advise you to not interact with my account, as i post content that might be triggering to people who are sensitive to the topic. if unconfortable or triggered, please, block this account instead of reporting.

not open to meanspo/f4tshaming. this is my diary, i’m not trying to encourage 4n4.

ever since i was around 9 years old, i've been struggling with body weight and image. i've always been a bit of an outcast for being overweight most of my life, being subjected to endless comparisons and being picked on. i have also been stuck in constant cycles of st4rv4tion and binge eating for as long as i can remember. i began my actual weight loss journey around summer 2023 and it has since become an addiction.

꒰ weight stats ꒱

꒰ 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑖 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒: super sonico figurines, vanilla, peach, cinnamon or strawberry scented candles, big dogs, stuffed animals (need a djungelskog bear, a pompompurin plushie and a pusheen cinnamon roll), hair accessories, pyjamas, antiques, queer media (especially girl’s love manga/anime), pink hair, hydrangeas, sparkly nails, car rides, hand holding, pastel colors (my faves are #c3d4e7 and most shades of light pink), late autumn and winter, dove products, fragrances/perfume, lip balm, sol de janeiro ‘71.

i’m a long time fan of sanrio and my favorite character is pompompurin ૮ - ﻌ - ა⁩ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

꒰ 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠: gaming, music, psychology, sociology and history (art, political, fashion, morbid), photography, crafting (clay), baking, writing, organizing things, beauty/self care and fashion (rococo and victorian, vintage, othic, lolita, jojifuku, coquette/dollette, mori kei, winter clothing), shopping (mostly looking at whatever’s on sale and debating whether i should buy it or not. rarely ever give in).

my absolute favorite youtube channel is kubz scouts (been a fan of jay for years :D). i mostly watch commentary videos on internet phenomenons, crime documentaries, gameplays, mukbangs and cooking videos.

꒰ 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑠: my homemade tomato and tuna cream pasta, protein and cereal bars, anything strawberry or pistachio flavored, tangerines, hot chocolate, s’mores, mochi, fruit, warm milk with honey, pain au chocolat, donuts, homemade chocolate chip cookies, chocolate (especially hershey’s cookies n creme flat white and lindt dark chocolate with salted caramel), milka milk choco wafer, werther’s originals caramel, kfc’s strawberry milkshake and o’cheddar burger, cinnamon rolls, chai latte with salted caramel syrup, mc donald’s cheeseburger natura and nuggets.

i’m also a fan of portuguese, italian and chinese cuisine.

꒰ 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐: mostly radiohead, lana del rey, deftones, dazey and the scouts, she wants revenge, megan thee stallion, nicole dollanganger, hole, fiona apple, jack off jill, the cure, jeff buckley, lalleshwari, kali uchis, mars argo, dsbm, gothic, nu and heavy metal, 50s and 60s, 90s indie, goth/new wave, classical, japanese rock, pop and v-kei.

꒰ 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠: mouthwashing, schoolgirl supervisor, genshin impact (tartaglia + arlecchino main, ar59), class of ‘09, ddlc, fnaf sl, dead plate and cold front, re7 and village, outlast, chilla’s art and puppet combo games. anything indie horror, survival, choice.

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑠: girl interrupted, brokeback mountain, but i’m a cheerleader, donnie darko, stay (2005), nightcrawler, hannibal (series). basically movie where jake gyllenhaal takes on a leading role ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

꒰ 𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑎: banana fish, bloom into you, mob psycho 100, devilman crybaby, moriarty the patriot, bungou stray dogs, tokyo revengers, junji ito manga, classmates/doukyusei, brutal satsujin, boy meets maria, the summer hikaru died.

꒰ 𝑑𝑛𝑖: p3dophiles and zooph1les, conservative/right wing propaganda, which includes white supremacy propaganda, homophobia, transphobia, racism, misogyny or any form of hatred. f4tspo and bullying aren’t allowed either, putting down others won’t make you any less insecure.

𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

[yell0wsalt]

Fic Writing Review 2023

Reflection

This was my first year getting more into fandom, specifically fanfic writing and, wow, I learned a lot. About myself, where I'm at, and where I want to be. Each one I'm trying to figure out what may work for me.

In one way or another I've tried different ideas, some I'm happy with, others not so much. I'm learning to be okay with that.

To accept that I have not done much particularly interesting and there is still so much more I can think about and try. It is a learning experience, slowly expanding my bubble and getting exposed to different perspectives and takes.

Words and Fics

128,421 words posted on AO3. Plus several ficlets on tumblr I don't care to keep track of

2 published WIPs I'm currently working on

32 fics published.

7 multi-chapter fics published

2 multi-chapter fics published and in progress

Top 10 Fics by Kudos

10. Gotta Cool Down, I'm Heated (M, Korvira)

9. Blooming (G, Linzin)

8. Cinnamon Spice Bliss (T, Irosami)

7. Say It (M, Linzin)

6. A Closed Discussion (E, Makorra)

5. Loving You throughout the Years (M, Linzin)

4. A Spark in the Dark (T, Linzin)

3. Your Electric Touch (G, EraserMic)

2. A Lazy Winter Morning (E, EraserMic)

1. I'm Bored, Let's Fuck (E, Linzin)

Fandom Events

AU Roulette 2023

Shinishi of the Deep (Cosmic Horror AU)

Blooming (Medieval AU)

More than You Know (Mecha AU)

Lin Beifong's Week

Say It

ATLA Rare Pair May Day

Monsters and Myths

The Taste of Your Care

Fox Cat v. One

March Madness

I'm Bored, Let's Fuck

A Closed Discussion

Promises of Today and Tomorrow

Upcoming Plans for 2024

I have several WIPs I need to to finish. Let's take care of those.

There are several writing prompts I want to tap into as ways to spark other ideas in me I may not have thought of before on my own.

Aside from writing for my OTPs, rare-pairs and other ships are tingling at the mind. There are a few I am eager to try.

Not feel so embarrassed to write something or anything that's dumb or silly. Every now and then, you need a little of that.

"Be a little weirder than what you think is okay" This is the space for it and it makes things interesting.

Again, finish the WIPs.