#zeek's pretty boys

[archivedzeke]

cute puppy boys that beg for your attention when you’re busy fixing dinner or cleaning up. they would follow behind you like a lost pup and demand your attention when you’re not focused on them.

how could you deny your pretty boys when they’re so eager to have your eyes on them and only them. so please please give them your attention !

the way their imaginary ears would flop downwards when you brush them off to complete your work before the sit and sulk to themselves. all they wanted was their lovers attention so why are you being mean to them?

of course you would make it up to them ! cuddling and nuzzling them with equal yearning to show that you needed their attention too. cook for them and run them a nice bubble bath or shower , let them sleep in one of your shirts before offering to eat their pretty pussies until they cum and beg you to stop.

let them cockwarm you until you both fall asleep , running your fingers through their soft hair as they snuggle into your chest with pure adoration on their faces. rubbing their sides while whispering sweet nothings into their ears.

watch as they wake up in the middle of the night to ride your cock with desperation , hearts forming in their eyes while they pepper gentle kisses down your throat until you wake up and take charge. they love it when you pin them into a mating press and knot their cunt full ♡.

take good good care of them afterwards ok ?

use those big ripped arms to give them the best naked cuddles ever and tell them how good they were for you. that’s all your golden retriever bf needs!

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO , HINATA SHOYO , TETSURŌ KUROO , VENTI , CHILDE , AETHER , KAZUHA , KYOJURO RENGOKU , NARUTO , KAEYA , ARATAKI ITTO , TEGEN UZUI , MAMMON

𝗰𝘃𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘇𝗲𝗸𝗲™

[archivedzeke]

yes please.

Holding a pretty boy's legs around my head as I eat him out until his boycunt is sore and he's made a mess on my face and he's breathless. Making him cum until he can barely speak and says my name like a prayer. Making him promise he'll stay all mine and all mine forever while his head is empty. Make him think of nothing but me and the pleasure only i can give him.

Pampering my boy like he deserves, sucking his fat, stubby tcock, feeling how perfect it is in my mouth. sloppily making out with his hole and drinking him up. Peppering kissed on his dick and thighs between orgasms.

Shallowly fucking his hole with my tongue until he's desperate and needy and bucking his hips all over again. Flattening my tongue against his lil dick and letting him ride my face until he cums again and drained himself out.

He's half asleep and still gripping my head between his legs, tiredly grinding into my mouth and he can barely take anything more but he feels so good he can't think of doing anything else and he's so pretty and sweet you don't wanna stop him.

[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

[theogclownboy]

eppy boy

looks like Zeek's nap was pretty good

[ask-jamtheimp]

Day 7 of Regressuary:

Theme: Siblings

Charachters: Jam and @theogclownboy Toby, Zeek, and Ellie

Fandom: Helluva Boss/Hellaverse

Summary: After a fufilling snack time the two little imps have a little playtime in the park and the caregivers realize just how inseparable the pair are.

Authors Note: Third and last part to this trilogy! Please read day 5 and 6 before this one! Don't worry more pair ups with Zeek and Jam will still happen throughout regressuary so stay tuned!

"Oh dear what a mess-I think we need to get you two little ones cleaned up!" Ellie said with a chuckle as she looked at both imps in their highchairs. Zeek had food all over his face, hands, and bib. Jam had stayed relatively more clean however, only having some food around his mouth and hands. Toby took out some wipes and started cleaning off Jam's face. He was pretty good about it so he just quietly let Toby clean him off. On the other hand the minute Ellie held up a wet washcloth to Zeek's face he immediately began to fuss. "No! Nooo! No wanna!" He whined as he moved his face away from the washcloth and stuck his tounge out. "Come on now dear, I need to get all of this yucky stuff from off of you face!" "NO!" Zeek shouted as he huffed and hissed at the washcloth. Jam looked over at him before saying. "Zee-zee! Lookies! It not bad! N' its fast!" Zeek looked over seeing just how quickly it took for him to get his face all cleaned up but still shook his head. "I don't wanna!" He said while crossing his arms. "Big boys hab cwean faces though!" Jam said while pointing to Toby's face. "My papa has a cwean face!" Toby chuckled before nodding. "Kiddo's right Zeek, all big boys gotta keep themselves clean. And its 123! Super quick." Zeek huffed before mumbling "okay..." and sitting still long enough to allow Ellie to wipe his face and hands off and take off his bib. "Good boy" Toby said as he ruffled Zeeks hair gently before ruffling Jams hair as well "And thank you for helping out with that pup. Very responsible of you. Now how does a little outside time sound?" Both littles eyes widened as their tails started wagging, Jams jingled when it did and immediately held his arms out to be taken out of the highchair. Toby picked them both up and out of the highchair and put them on the floor where they both dashed over to the door excitedly squealing and chanting to go to the park.

After a few minutes of the caregivers packing up the last of what they needed for their little park trip Ellie pulls out the stroller she had set up for Zeek and puts him in it, although Zeek reaches out for Jam before he gets buckled in and whines, meanwhile Jam looks around before pointing at himself. Toby chuckles and nudges Jam towards the stroller. "I think he wants you to ride with him, kiddo." "Can I?" Jam asks. He was excited to finally be able to ride in a stroller no longer by himself this time! "Well, if you both can fit in it, that is..." Toby said with a slight frown. "It's definitely not made for two tots, but let's see if you can squeeze in." Toby said as he picked up Jam and tried to fit both imps into the stroller. No matter how he tried, one always seemed to be more uncomfortably squished than the other. Toby sighed before stepping back. "Sorry, kiddos, no dice. I don't think you both can fit in there." Jam pouted, and Zeek definitely wasn't too happy about that fact. "I want him ta wide wif me though!" He complained to Toby who just shrugged. "I'm sorry, kiddo but you both just can't fit at the same time. It's not made for 2 kiddos." "Well then I don't wanna go!" Zeek said with a huff as he got out of the stroller and sat on the floor refusing to move. "Yeah me eitha!" Jam also said with a pout as he crossed his arms and sat on the floor beside Zeek. Toby sighed before an idea suddenly popped into Ellies head. "Now now little ones, if you both can't fit in the stroller you can both walk together! And if your feet get tired we'll carry the stroller along with us just in case. How does that sound?" Both littles thought for a moment, Jam stopped pouting and looked at Zeek, he didn't seem to mind that idea actually. Zeek also stopped pouting and looked back at Jam slowly coming to terms with it before the pair got up. "Okay mama!" "Okay Ms. Ellie" They both said, Toby looked at Ellie and chuckled before whispering to her "Well they came around quick." "Well I figured that they just wish to be doing the same thing together is all. Even if it is walking." "That's smart." Toby said before proudly looking at Jam. He was so happy that his little seemed to be getting along more than well with Zeek.

After the caregivers made sure their respective littles had on their leash backpacks, they all headed out to the park. While watching the two littles run, skip, and play while walking, Toby spoke to Ellie. "I think this was great! I've never seen my kiddo this happy. He's been speaking of wanting a friend for such a long time and now he came out with a brother! Isn't that something?" Ellie chuckled and nodded in agreement. "Why yes, it is. Im glad Zeek has a friend and brother too. They seem like a perfect pair. Most certainly unseprable." "For better or for worse." Toby said exasperated, although he knew it would be a challenge since they always wanted to do stuff together if it was for the sake of these kiddos keeping their sibling bond he was willing to do it. No matter how much fussing it took.

"Okay pups look over here and say cheese!" "Cheese!" "Look where?"

*Click*

(Art by @theogclownboy )

Hope you enjoyed! Please like and reblog to help!

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

It's really weird when zeeks say kataang is a rape apologist's ship when their own otp was born out of a rape fantasy.

(i'm not saying all zeeks jumped onto the ship because of that but still, that was the reason zutara first came into place)

Yup, which is pretty common for enemies-to-lovers ships. But of course they gotta go "When WE like stories with characters doing bad things, it is fine, even if it's romanticised, because we can separate fiction from reality" even while calling Aang a rapist and his fans abuse apologists for a poorly timed KISS that the show framed so negatively, there might as well have been narration suddenly saying "Not cool, boy. Not cool."

One rule for their OTP, another for every "rival" ship.

[archivedzeke]

the pillow prince’s are the ones who are a bit shy. they hate having to do the work , but they love seeing you go feral as they slowly try to ride you.

why do you have to be so big!? it’s a struggle , during the strength to lift their hips until only the tip is pressed against their hole . . let’s hope they don’t take to long or else you’re slamming up into them. and then you’re even deeper.

their hips will shake and they’ll claw at your abdomen , rolling their waist to get more friction. when you grab a handful of their ass and fuck your cock into them while they’re moving.

what really does them in is when you fuck up into them while they’re coming down. they go fucking crazy. your heartless demeanor wouldn’t help the situation. they’ll cry for you to take control.

you’ll taunt them , laughing and urging them to continue moving by palming their ass — even pressing gentle kisses down their neck to push them on. maybe even praise them a little !

“come on sweet boy ! can you keep going for me? until i cum deep inside your pretty tummy hm?”

he will find the strength. cumming inside of his boy pussy? he would never turn that down. his hips will gyrate back and forth , moving in circular motions just to empty your balls. cum inside of him now please.

“c-cum inside! please . . . hmph” , he’s so cute like this. the way he pants and whines in need of your cum. he’s ok with being your cumdump just please give it to him. he needs it.

maybe next time you should take pictures of him quaking like a leaf while riding your cock again.

XIAO , SATOSHI ISSHIKI , TAKUMI ALDINI , ARMIN ARLERT , KAZUHA , ALHAITHAM , AHN JIWON , PRESENT MIC , REINER BRAUN , KAVEH , LINUMA , GOYO , GOROU , TIHGNARI , CHILDE , KAORU SAKURAYASHIKI , IIDA SHROUD , MALLEUS DRACONIA

𝘇𝗲𝗸𝗲𝘀𝘇𝗻𝗻™

[real-total-drama-takes]

the only correct ranking of gen 1 characters worst to best morally and my opinions ig.

duncan. I hate his cheating ass. Blew up Chris's house because he thought it would make him cool. He was good in island and action but after that he was an annoying asshole. Go fuck yourself duncan.

geoff. Okay, I know this looks low, but DID YOU SEE HIM IN ACTION? He let people have anvils drop on them. Wild.

zeek. for obvious reasons. Sexist.

sierra. bc wtf. Leave my boy cody alone. I mean, I like her as a character, she's cool and interesting, but girl chill.

heather. Just like alejandro, but kind of worse because she read Gwen's diary and kissed her boyfriend and all that. I know alejandro is better at manipulation but Heather did more stuff.

alejandro. I mean, he has no problem manipulating people so yeah.

beth. She's nice most times but she's done some questionable stuff. She cheated on her boyfriend with HAROLD of all people, and didn't even ask before kissing him, she was sort of creepy at times, ect.

justin. He kinda just rode off jis good looks and took advantage of them but didn't manipulate many people.

harold. He rigged the votes. Um. Yeah.

cody. Definitely pervy. That's really it.

courtney. She gave her boyfriend a 30 page list of rules that were super strict but that isn't really wrong. And she shoved a diaper in Duncan's mouth that was wild.

eva. She beat some bitches up. She was pretty angry and made some comments. She didn't really didn't have the screen time to be that bad. I wish she did.

bridgette. She cheated on her boyfriend but other than that did nothing wrong. Chill for a TD character. I forgive her. I love her.

leshawna. She just had that bit in action where she lied and fake cried to go out with her cousin (I think cousin) and did nothing else.

gwen. Honestly all she did was kiss duncan which, asshole, but not as bad as what most characters did.

katie and sadie. They're mean to each other sometimes but didn't really have much screen time so yeah they're just normal kids.

owen. He was just kinda wild ig.

noah. He was a sarcastic asshole and didn't do anything.

trent. He got manipulated by Heather and she kissed him and he really didn't do anything.

lindsay. Not an angel but didn't do ANYTHING bad.

tyler. Also did nothing so yeah.

dj. Literal angel who kept trying to vote himself because he was hurting animals. He did nothing wrong.

and I don't even know where to put izzy on this list.

.

[archivedzeke]

i need more.

miguel getting overstimulated and biting u w his fangs bc everything feels too much

(๑•ᴗ•๑)♡

miguel o'hara

a/n — he's so lady gaga coded to me i think

It's cute seeing him so overwhelmed like this. Deep pants and heavy breaths, his skin sticky with sweat and fluids. He looks heavenly like this. Miguel curses under his breath when you thrust particularly hard into him, feeling him clench down onto your desperately. He lets out a deep grunt— a growl almost. He tangles his fingers into your hair and tugs harshly, kissing you roughly. You could feel him biting down onto your bottom lip, tongue, anything really. It seemed Miguel was desperate to swallow up any of your moans as your rough pace completely destroyed what little resolve he had left.

His clawed hand dug into the blade of your shoulder, little droplets of blood dripping down your skin. The metallic smell made Miguel salivate, mouth watering as he imagined how good you would taste. He suddenly pulled away with a harsh breath, his addicting little noises spilling from those plump lips of his. You noticed the far out look in his eyes, glazed and hazy— you knew.

Smirking to yourself, you pulled out of him agonisingly slow till the tip remained. Immediately, he complained at your lack of action.

"I ought to take your head off. Hnn- H-hurry this up." Miguel said whilst baring his teeth at you, panting heavily and glaring daggers. But you paid him no mind. Instead, you pushed him into a more strenuous position, his knees nearly touching his ears. The heavy breathing that came from him only increased as he felt the burn of the stretch in his thighs. He loved every second of it, but he loved what you did next the most.

You pushed back into him again, your grip on his supple thighs iron tight and unrelenting. But Miguel didn't care about that right now. You were so close, neck so exposed... it was tempting.

"Go on, pretty boy." You urged, wrapping a hand around his throbbing, leaking cock and slowly stroking it. It felt like you had been teasing him until now.

One bite wouldn't hurt.

all works belong to c-nstellati-ns ⓒ 2023. do not steal or repost. ask before translating.

[24-guy]

Thinking about a Star Wars x NPMD/Hatchetfield au and oh boy do I have ideas.

So.

Like.

Okay.

Let's start out with character things so.

Obviously Stephanie is a human princess of some city or something. She absolutely hates it though. Can shoot a blaster extremely well. I think her planet is very green. Not as green and vast in jungle as Kashyyk but like. Close. It's forests are low to the ground and dense and dark (inspired by the implications given about the Witchwood). But the cities are almost opposite with tall gold and bold green buildings also reflected in the outfits the royals wear. The lower class wear more dull green and brown simpler clothing where the wealthier slowly wearing more bold and bright greens with browns turning to white and the addition of gold pieces of jewelry and embellishments.

I absolutely think Peter is a Jedi. Take one look at that man and tell me he wouldn't be. Exactly. I think he'd survive order 66 based purely on luck (probably in a similar way to Cal) and found himself stranded with or without (I haven't decided yet) his master and brother. If it's without his brother, then that's how he gets the fitting Green saber, if it's with then he continues his training in the worst circumstances. They probably find themselves on Steph's planet just for the sake of plot. I don't think Peter would be a human though. I think it would be kinda funny for both him and Ted to be Twi'lek. Because they are known for being pretty. And I think Ted would use that to his advantage and Pete would just deny the obvious - that he is pretty.

Richie would be a Mandalorian. Because hear me out. Okay. He's Zeek. And Mando armour is painted. So his armour being painted white and dark blue. Also! The coverts being family and the extended Jon Matteson family tree being all Mandalorian, plus you could have him not having parents and him being a foundling to the covert. And also his clan signet could be of whatever animal is closest to a hawk. Thank you for listening to my ted talk. Also, while less important thanks to the whole being a Mandalorian thing - I also don't think he would be human. Richie's too into anime for me to make him strictly a human. But I don't know what he would be.

Ruth would be a villager or something in Stephanie's town. She gives me the vibes of the mechanic lady in Mandalorian who like. Low-key scams Din out of money. I forgot her name it's been a while. Peli? Maybe. Anyway. She'd be one of the townspeople and scam people at her stall out of money but she'd be so damn good at it. Probably has a bit of the force in her and would only figure it out once Pete was introduced into her life. She gets his old lightsaber so she can train. She's another one who I don't think is human but can't figure out what she is. I think it's important that she'd be able to keep her curly hair though.

Those are most/all of the thoughts I have currently. It was a very impulsive decision to make this au. But I really really want to draw this and think more on it so for now it's a "if you have any ideas about it please please tell me your ideas."

[rhysiespeeces]

PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OCS. ALSO YOUR ART IS INCREDIBLE AND YOUR SKILL IS IMMENSELY IMPRESSIVE.

HI HI OMG thank you so much!! this is so sweet

i posted a brief story abt them all but i will definetly update

I have a few more destiny ocs but these are the ones I posted:

rovyn-

he’s inspired by this season (season 18)

he’s an eliksni pirate captain in charge of a small skiff of pirates. fairly grumpy, doesn’t really like anyone, grunts or growls as responses.

he was only a little hatchling when his family fled because of the whirlwind (i’m still new to this so apologies if anything is wrong). he grew up impoverished and struggling, losing his parents and deciding to brave it alone as a scavenger. he did this while facing a battle with a mysterious illness, which caused him to become weak, and his eyes to turn from blue to red.

he managed to build his way up over the centuries, establishing himself as a fairly known but small pirate captain in charge of a small, close knit crew. sure he’s really old but his illness has a mysterious way of keeping him alive.

AND NOW MY OTHER OC-

zeek-

this is zeek!!

his full name is ezekiel, no one knows where he came from or what his last name is. he’s pretty much just a nobody.

he’s autistic, and he is non verbal which means that his ghost, who goes by adam, speaks on his behalf a lot of the time.

he’s just your basic arc titan, fairly good at his job. model guardian, does everything right, and scavenges a lot.

i love him very much hang on let me show his guardian design

he’s a blue man

he’s also gay and very very much in love with rovyn. it’s a slow burn but it’s more just enemies to lovers in a really cute way.

rovyn is the “jaded and cruel character that hates absolutely everyone apart from the sunshine boy he loves”

and zeek is the sunshine boy

i did write their initial meeting in another post but yea i’m happy to explain it all again

[cinemasenpai]

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

heather chandler x fem!reader

𝐀/𝐍 — honestly , i’m pretty sure heather chandler was how i figured out i’m like gae asf 🕺

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — [y/n] [l/n], a quiet girl, and heather chandler, the most popular girl in school, start an unlikely relationship as they study physics.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 — @lady-americana13 ( ty for requesting !! <3 )

[y/n] wasn’t usually head over heels for real life people. she would constantly gush about fictional characters that she would date to her best friend, veronica sawyer. no matter what time of day it was, her friend was somehow always ready to listen to [y/n] rant about them.

“okay, but what if they were real?!” [y/n] grinned, not seeming to pay attention to the game of croquet with veronica that was occurring. “i would literally do anything for them.”

“i wish they were real too. they’re much better than the boys of our school.” veronica replied, her mallet hitting a navy blue ball through a loop.

however, there was one person who [y/n] wouldn’t mind going out with at their high school. heather chandler. at first, [y/n] despised the blonde. from her rude mannerisms and rich girl clothing, what was so special about her? [y/n] asked herself that question many times until heather had spoken to her in the school’s library.

“hey, we’re physics partners. you’re [y/n], right?” heather questioned.

[y/n] gulped, a mixture of fear and a general wanting of teenage love tugging at her. “um, yeah. that’s me.”

heather frowned. “i have to study with you tonight, so i need you to give me your address.”

“uh, yeah, sure.” [y/n] uttered out, clinging to her history books tightly. “i can get you my address at lunch. um, anyways, i’m just gonna—”

“wait!” heather bit her lip. “not at lunch. my friends can’t know about this. just slip it in my locker or something.”

“o-okay.” was all [y/n] could muster out before the girl in the red blazer left.

she hated how nice she seemed to her. she was a nobody. why was she the one to get kind of get treated like a normal person? it wasn’t until it was just the two of them were in her room when she realized what was going on. she was catching feelings already.

this takes us to the present, where [y/n] relished in the fact that the cute girl from her physics class was in her bedroom.

“hello? hello?!” heather waved her hands in front of [y/n], who spaced out at the thought of the teenage girl beside her.

both were on [y/n]’s bed, casually writing down answers to questions on paper all while listening to music. heather laid down on her stomach as [y/n] sat up straight. the thought of the most beautiful girl in high school on her bed made her smile internally. she must be the luckiest girl in the world.

“i’m alive! don’t worry about it!” [y/n] put her hands up in surrender.

“you keep spacing out.” heather smirked. “what are you thinking about?”

“well, uh,” [y/n] caught a lump in her throat. “how do you feel about girls liking girls?”

“i mean, i don’t mind it i guess.” heather mumbled, tapping her pencil on her paper. “[y/n].”

“yeah?”

as she turned to face her, [y/n] felt a pair of lips on her’s. she quickly kissed back, not wanting the feeling to ever leave. but alas, the pure bliss only lasted for about two or three seconds before heather pulled away.

“h-how did you know?” [y/n] wore a nervous smile.

“i’ve had so many boys who like me do the same things you do.” heather told her, putting a couple strands of her gold hair behind her ear.

heather sat up straight, her toes pointing to the right of her body as her legs were slanted. [y/n] giggled a bit before stopping. she shook her head. “how do i know i’m just some person that you’re having fun with? i like you, a lot, but you’ve tossed so many guys away after just a week. plus, i’m not even that cute.”

“i don’t kiss people i don’t like.” heather stated, crossing her arms. “but i don’t date idiot boys either. you’re a zeek, so don’t make me ditch you after that one kiss.”

[y/n]’s heart melted at the sound of heather’s quiet chuckle. her words sounded venomous at first glance, but [y/n] could clearly hear the lovely parts of her words so strongly that it was the only thing she could think about. “you wanna have a our first date be a study date?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[justafandomfollower]

Thoughts on Stargirl S02E01

Season 2 is here! So, I watched the first episode last night and, while I don’t often do this for TV shows I watch, wanted to share/write up my thoughts about the episode. I mean, overall, I thought it was really good and I was grinning like a loon to see the familiar characters back onscreen. But, more than that, I had some thoughts on individual characters.

First, I really really liked the way they handled Courtney’s “overworking” as Stargirl. A lot of other shows would have the debate about how being Stargirl is dangerous and she’s just a teenager, etc., etc. But they hashed that out last season, and they’re not bringing it up again here, which should be the bare minimum but ends up just being refreshing. Pat never says she needs to put away the staff (except for that last bit where he grounds her, and even that’s temporary). Instead, he cautions her to find a balance between the superhero and non-superhero parts of her life, to pass her classes, get good grades, get some sleep, learn to take breaks every now and again, and think about her future.

I do think Courtney will ultimately be proven right about the threats that are out there (I mean, duh, we saw Cindy and Eclipso right there), but nothing Pat said was wrong, or telling her that there were no threats. So, yeah. Big fan of that part. As for Green Lantern’s daughter, while Courtney was her usual “act first, think later” self, I also kind of can’t blame her, because someone did sneak into their house and steal important JSA relics. There were faults on both sides here.

The rest of my thoughts I’ve thrown under a read-more because it’s long and rambling:

I’m pretty solid and happy with where the other three JSA kids are at the moment, but I figured I’d still break it down a little.

Yolanda: I like that she’s struggling with what she did, even months later. I like that she knows she can’t say anything at church, I like that she’s still able to talk about it with Courtney, and I like that Courtney was supportive without outright agreeing with or condemning her actions. It’s a tough thing for kids to talk about, and while an experienced adult like Pat might be able to understand it better, I like that Yolanda’s not completely bottling it up.

On that note, though, they said Cindy might have gotten crushed when the satellite came down, “like Brainwave”, so there’s a possibility here that nobody else knows what Yolanda did, which’ll be interesting to see play out, if that’s true.

Rick: Again, I like where he’s at. He’s more confident in who he is, a little more settled, but also still lost. He claims Tyler as his name again and knows he’s a hero, but he doesn’t know where he goes from here. I think that’s part of why he’s seeking out Grundy, because he’s still clinging to that part of his past because he doesn’t have any clue of what’s in his future.

He’s still very much an angry teenager new at being a superhero, ranting to that teacher about how he saved her, but knowing his character (and acknowledging how crappy that teacher was), I can’t entirely blame him for that. Was it a good move? No. Did it make sense? Absolutely.

Speaking of that teacher, she was not a good one. Can I understand her wariness about the bad boy of the school suddenly getting every answer right? Sure. But, 1) it’s been months, so surely there’s been some gradual improvement, 2) that’s not the way to do it; talk to him about it, sure, but don’t refuse to accept his explanations, and 3) refusing to accept his name change is a jerk move that a figure of authority shouldn’t be making. I could wave away the first one from TV-time-skipping-magic, but not the other two. I don’t really think we’ll see this character again (but maybe in summer school), but she’s more of a vessel to show us 1) how Rick’s changed and 2) how the way others see him hasn’t, so, I suppose, in that regard, she did her job.

Beth: It’s neat that the goggles still seem to be (mostly) working, but it’s the AI that’s not functioning. Not the route I’d thought they’d go, but it’s really interesting because it gives Beth a chance to expand her skill set, or at least expand it to the viewer, and give her a role as a coder/computer scientist. It also doesn’t cheapen the “death” of the AI that happened last season.

Also, like the others (Rick at school with the teachers, Courtney and Yolanda having a discussion in the middle of main street, even Pat with STRIPE), she’s not great at hiding her activities. They’re just goggles, maybe, and she could explain them away fairly easy, but I don’t like the way she just leaves them out around the house. I’m okay with it for now because 1) she’s a teenager, still learning, and they are pretty innocuous, 2) some of it’s probably just TV “requirements”, like not wanting to cut from scene to scene or whatever (idk, I’m not in the TV business), and 3) her parents seem pretty clueless.

And speaking of her parents, man did I not like them even more this season. Every time I saw them on screen my mind went straight to: “good people, terrible parents”. Did they ever even want a kid, or did they just like the idea of having a kid to fit into their “perfect lives” until even that wasn’t enough to keep them together? They’re barely aware of what Beth does on a day to day basis, she still seems to be the one doing all the cooking, and they forget to tell her they’re coming home late? Bad parenting, and selfish parenting at that.

Overall, my mood about Beth this episode can be summed up like this: Do I like Beth struggling? No. Does it open up possibilities for what could be a really intriguing character arc? Yeah.

My biggest complaint about our JSA is that there weren’t really any scenes of them together, but that’s more of the time constraints of having so many characters we needed to get concrete information on regarding where they stand. They had that nice patrol scene in the beginning to let us know they’re all still solid friends, so I’m happy enough with that for now.

Other thoughts:

Barbara wasn’t really in it much (no mention of her job, though the newspaper article did say something about The American Dream going through changes after the death of its leader or something like that), but I can sympathize with her wanting a vacation and not getting one. It’ll be interesting to see how okay she is with Courtney as Stargirl as things get more dangerous.

Mike, likewise, wasn’t much present, but it’s clear he’s still struggling to be a part of things. Pat wasn’t wrong, when he said that the discipline, etc. from having a job was important, but it still feels like he’s brushing Mike aside and not letting him be involved, so I can see some more resentment brewing this season. Better than last season, but c’mon Pat. Mike just wants to help. Still, hopefully we’ll get a better idea of where Mike stands in future episodes.

Artemis. Really interesting the way she brushed aside her parents being in jail as them being wrongly convicted. I’ve seen Young Justice, so I’m looking forward to seeing if they turn her into a villain or hero here.

Zeek. (Is that how he spelled it? It looked like that on his hat.) I’m, probably unnecessarily, wary of how interested he was in working with Pat at the show (does he know something?) but for now I’m mostly just mildly amused at his “I don’t care what you do on your time, but hey, do you think that robot could use a flamethrower?”. Also. Pat. C’mon man. You’ve been in this business for decades. Hide your robot better. (Though, I’ll admit, he was only resigned when he realized Zeek had found it, so... Did he have an excuse ready? Did he just not read Zeek as a threat? I’m probably reading too much into this, but it’ll again be interesting to see where it goes.)

Cameron’s back, seemingly unaware of everything, and it looks like his murderous grandparents are taking care of him. Not great, but, eh, we’ll see what happens.

Sylvester is still tracking down Pat. I’m a little bit glad the landlord either didn’t give him, or didn’t have, Pat’s information from that end scene last season. I’m also interested to see if Maggie (Mike’s Mom, if my understanding of comics I haven’t read is correct) sticks around. Sylvester seems supremely unworried and in a mostly good mood, despite his desire to track down Pat, so I really want to know what’s up with him. I’ve seen some fan theories of time travel and him being a displaced Starman, which could be interesting, but I have no idea if they’re accurate. He certainly seems to be the real deal, at least with all the right memories.

Cindy and Eclipso. That opening scene was creepy, and made me question if I’d turned on the right show, and the connection with the McNider family is really interesting. Did not like the way she had Mike’s picture, but from a writing POV I really liked it. I don’t want Mike to go villain, but I mostly trust the writers to see how this plays out.

Other thoughts: The town seems to have moved on from the mind control/satellite-dish-from-the-football-field thing, so I’m guessing there weren’t too many causalities. New principal makes sense, and I like that they didn’t need to shove it in our face to remind us what happened to the old one (plus that scene where Courtney bumps into her kid; nice and simple and shows a little of how he’s coping). I appreciate that Henry hasn’t been forgotten. No glimpse of Yolanda’s home life yet, or Rick’s uncle. No idea how Rick managed to change his name, but the threat he was hiding from is more or less gone, so it makes sense.

I may have forgotten something here or there, but anyone who’s made it this far deserves a cookie, so, thanks for reading! I’m always up for discussion if anyone wants to add on or debate any of my points.

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Snow In The Dark

This is a new fic. I was gonna make it one shot but it’s already waaaaaaay to long to be a one shot so a fic it is haha. This is gonna follow the movies with some other stuff mixed in I hope yall like it and as always let me know what you think.

Fic Summary: Snow has never known who she was. Being raised in the streets made her strong but lonely. That changed when she met Jack them becoming as close as sisters. She thought she found her family. That all changes when she crashes on a planet with only one rule. Stay in the light.

Part Summary:Snow survives the crash of the ship. Her perplexed by the most dangerous passenger.

Riddick x OC Snow

Warnings: Language I think that’s it. 

Let me know if you want to be tagged :P

I woke up to everything shaking around me and alarms blaring in my ears. My eyes fly open searching for what was going on. I couldn’t get my answer because I was thrown out of the chamber I was in.

I smack into the floor rolling out of the way just in time for my chamber to be ripped off from the ship.

I grab the nearest thing I can keeping me from getting sucked out with the debris of the crash. The ship slides to a halt, everyone else being flung out of their sleeping chambers as well.

I could hear people talking, yelling for one another but I didn’t think about that. Jack was my only priority.

Pushing myself up from the floor I did a scan of the room not seeing her anywhere.

“Jack!” I yell my head pounding from the action or from smacking into the floor.

I step over fallen parts of the ship calling her name. Stumbling towards the ladder leading a floor down I take it, my gut telling me to go in that direction.

“Jack! Where are you?” I call out walking through the dark underbelly of the ship. It was where the storage was kept.

I stop in my tracks when a man is standing there. Him only dressed in a black tank top, cargo pants and boots.

I know who he is recognizing him as the prisoner on the ship. The cuffs and bit in his mouth tell me that. Fear settles in my stomach making me stay frozen in place.

He looks at me, well in my direction. He cocks his head to the side, and takes a deep breath as if he was smelling the air. Then in a swift movement he turns and disappears into the darkness of the ship.

I take a shaky breath and turn to go back up the ladder just glad he didn't try to kill me. I start digging through the rubble my heart starts to pick up at the fear of not finding her. Seeing a tuned over chamber I move to it pull the door open watching my baby sister roll out of it unharmed.

“So something went wrong I guess.” She says looking up at me.

“Yeah you could say that.” I say chuckling, helping her to stand up.

“Are you okay?” I ask looking her over.

“Yeah I think so.” She says looking down her own body.

“What about you?”

“Just a bump on the head.” I say reaching up to touch where my head made contact with the floor.

Hearing a scream we both quickly move in that direction finding the group of survivors around the two co pilots.

The one with the bar in his chest I couldn’t remember the name of but the other one was Carolyn I think.

“Everyone out.” She crokes out looking at her dying friend.

“Come on Jack.” I say touching her shoulder.

She turns to look at me with sadness in her eyes. I smile at her and pull her outside with me. As we walk outside I realize that the prisoner was tied up to a metal beam.

I wonder how Johns found him and got him secured so fast.

“You better be careful around him.” Says the man I was just thinking about him standing right in front of me.

I jump and look up at him as Jack walks outside with the others.

“He’s tied up and I’m all the way over here. I don’t think he can hurt me.” I say, not fully believing what I said but was there really a need to be scared of a man who was tied up.

Johns chuckles and turns to walk outside.

I turn to look back at the man tied up. With the others either out of the ship or too far away to notice I take a step closer to him.

I wasn’t normally the one testing my luck, I wasn’t the one that was attracted to the dangerous guy yet I found myself being pulled to a man I didn’t even know the name of.

I moved slowly like a child sneaking to get something that wasn’t allowed to have. I froze and took a breath when I watched him once again cock his head in my direction.

‘I’m not even moving, can he smell me or something?’ I think looking at him.

He huffs out a deep breath and sits up as straight as he can. I get the impression he is telling me that he is somehow the boss even if he’s the one in chains.

“Snow!” Jack calls, making me jump and spin around to face her.

“You gotta come see this.” She says waving me outside.

“Coming.” I say following her out of the ship.

I step out into the desert. It is hot, the air thick making each breath seem heavy.

“So much for going someplace nice.” I say following my little sister on top of the ship.

On top of it gives me the vantage of the rest of the ship. It’s pieces scattered behind where we crashed landed making me realize just how lucky we were to make it out alive.

I turn my head when I hear someone climbing up the ladder. It was Carolyn.

“We were gonna make a search party and look for the others until we saw this.” Sharon says, talking about the destroyed ship.

“Could be worse we could be in that.” I say pointing at it to remember the feeling of the hot air zooming past me.

“Hell I almost was.” I say earning a worried look from Jack.

“Relax, I'm harder to kill than that.” I say smiling and winking at her.

She smiles back and nods her head.

I take a deep breath and sigh.

“It’s already so hot out here.”

“Yesit doesn't help that we are breathing at a higher altitude.” The guy with glasses says.

“Feels like I’m breathing with one lung.” Sharon says, making me nod.

“Well considering we made it out of that alive and on a planet with ozanage I’m counting us as lucky.” Zeak says.

“Yeah this beast wasn’t meant to land like this so you did a pretty good job.” Sharon says looking over at Carolyn.

“Yeah thanks for saving out dicks.” Jack says patting her shoulder.

I giggle and turn to head back down the ladder. Laughing at my sister's attempt to sound manly.

“Alright I’m going to find some shade.” I say taking another deep breath and head back down to the ground.

Walking around the ship ready to go back in I stop when John’s is in front of me. 

I don’t get a chance to say anything, his hand coming up to smack me hard across the face. Gasping I stumble away from him holding my cheek.

“What the hell?” I ask looking at him.

“You let him the fuck go that’s what!” He says towering over me.

“What are you talking about?”

“Riddick I left you alone with him and now he is gone. I’m not dumb I know you fucking let him go.”

“I didn’t touch him, why would I let him go?”

“I don’t know you fucking tell me. Maybe you got the hots for him or maybe you know him.” He glares at me, almost shaking.

“I think you should go sit down, the heats got to your head.” I say moving to head back inside, him stopping me by grabbing my arm.

Clenching my jaw I look at him.

“Let me go.”

“Or what?” He asks, leaning down so our faces our inches apart.

“You don’t scare me Johns. But if what you think about me is true that guy I got the ‘hots’ for might not like you touching me.” I say surprised when his hand falls from my arm.

“Guess we really know who's afraid of who.” I say walking into the darkness of the ship.

Shaking off the feeling of his touch I start digging through the wreckage trying to find something to drink.

That was a bust but the guy with the glasses Paris was his name, led us to his stash of antice liquor.

“I thought you had something to drink?” I ask watching as he hands a bottle to Johns.

“Yes these are very expensive drinks.

Sighing, I roll my eyes and turn to find my sister, her outside playing with Imam’s three boys. Me and him talking shortly before we boarded the ship. Him taking them on some journey for his god or something.

“You guys okay?” I call out to them running around playing tag.

“Yeah, we're cool.” Jack says smiling at me.

“Okay.” I say moving to sit in the shade.

“What happened to your lip?” Asks Sharon sitting next to me.

“The dick in uniform. Apparently I let Riddick go.”

“Well did you?”

“Nope.” I say shaking my head.

“We need to look for water.” Imam says walking up to me.

“What is there isn’t any?” Johns asks, coming from the ship.

“All deserts have water, you just have to look for it.”

“So are we just going to dig a hole till we find it?”

“That is an option but I was thinking we look for it on the surface first.”

“Well we need to look for Riddick as well.” Johns says leaning next to the ship right beside me.

I push myself up and move away from him not liking him close to me.

“Why? He’s got his freedom. Why would he come after us?”

“Yeah is he that dangerous?” Carolyn asks.

“Only around humans.” He says smirking.

“Well guess you're safe then.” I say earning a weird look from everyone.

“Look he’s a wanted killer he will slit your throat without even blinking. He’s not gonna go far, he's gonna stay close enough to know how we plan to get off this rock. If you don’t want my protection fine but don’t come at me with that-.”

“Okay enough.” Carolyn says holding her hands up.

“We look for Riddick, while we look for water.”

“I’m gonna stay back, bury the bodies.” Zeek says, making me nod. That is a nice thing to do.

“Can I come with you guys?” Jack asks joining our group.

“Jack we should stay with the ship.”

“But we can help. I don’t want to just wait here, it's boring.” She wines, making me roll my eyes.

“Fine, but we come back if I think we are getting too far away.”

“Deal.” She says smiling.

It doesn't take long to round up the few of us that are going. Sharon and Zeek stay back to fix what they can. Paris stayed as well, not one for adventures.

I get dragged by my teenage sister wanting to go where danger leads her. So we start our walk into the desert sweating as we go.

It doesn't take long to reach a cannon full of very large dead things. Only the skullingtons of them left.

“Is this whole planet dead?” Carolyn says, making me look at her.

“Well that’s real grim of you.” I say moving to walk down in it.

“Where are you going?” Johns barks at me.

“This many animals around this one area might be water around, use your brain.” I say earning a giggle from Jack.

I smile at her as we walk into the cancon. She quickly takes off ready to explore.

“Not too far.” I call after her, she throws her hand up as she disappears into the maze of bones.

Sighing I walk slowly feeling out of breath. Hearing footsteps behind me I glanced back at Johns looking at me.

I quickly start moving, losing him as fast as I can. It wasn’t that hard I was known for being sneaky.

I walked under the fallen body of whatever the creature was. It’s ribcage and spine laying up against a rock wall made a good amount of shade on the ground. With a breeze it was almost pleasant.

I started to sit down and rest till the sound of something dropping behind me made me freeze. I turn around slowly coming face to chest with Riddick.

He is easily a head or more taller than me, making me gulp. He looks down at me, his eyes blocked by his goggles.

Taking a step closer to me I move back. He almost smirks at him lifting his arms trapping me between him and the wall.

He leans down making me hold my breath as he runs his nose up my neck. Without thinking I lean my head back giving him access.

‘What are you doing Snow?’ I ask myself a shiver going over me as he lets out a breath, brushing my skin.

“Who might you be?” He asks, his voice low, rumbling through me.

“Snow. They call me Snow.” I say gulping.

“Snow.” He says rolling it around his mouth. Pulling away from me he levels himself so my eyes are staring into his goggles.

“So you're the big bad Riddick.” I state him lifting the corner of his mouth into a smile.

“Are you trying to get on my goodside?”

“If it means you leave me and Jack alone then yes.”

“I’m not interested in Jack as you. Hmm.” He says him humming lowly it deep in his throat making a heat pool in my stomach.

“It’s been a long time since I smelt beautiful.” He says making me blush.

“I just have one question.”

“Ask it.” I say hating how breathless I sounded.

“What are you?” 

“Human.” I say not understanding his question.

He lets out a breathy growl and shakes his head. Not like he thought I was lying or it was more like he was in disbelief of what I said.

But what kind of question was that? I was human as far as I knew. Is that what Johns mean earlier? He was only dangerous around humans. So he wasn’t human? He looked pretty human to me.

“Are you going to kill me? If so, get it over with.” I say hoping my brave loud mouth would impress him or at least throw him off his guard long enough not to kill me.

He chuckles slowly, lifting himself up a bit but still has me trapped.

“You're not afraid of me.” He states.

“Should I be?”

“Definitely.” He says smirking.

“You don’t seem that scary.”

He smiles and moves once again closer to me his nose an inch from mine.

“That’s because you're one my goodside.” He says making me take a breath.

Smiling, he straightens up, dropping his arms down to his sides. It was a simple move but for some reason I wished I could see it again. Riddick moving almost like a cat. He was fluid and smooth.

“You should go join the others.” He says and quickly pulls himself up disappearing into the heart of the beast we were under.

I stand there processing what just happened. I quickly realized what I could be scared, and turned on at the same time. 

Just one thing I didn’t get, what was the big deal about Riddick?

[archivedzeke]

how did i miss this . . .🤝🏾

__ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐙 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐙??!?

𝐅𝐓._ 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐭𝗼𝗺𝐢𝗼𝐤𝐚, 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝗼𝐤𝐮 𝐤𝐲𝗼𝐣𝐮𝐫𝗼, 𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐢 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝗺𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚!

#_ top! 𝗺𝐚𝐥𝐞! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝗺𝗼𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐮, 𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐢 & 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝗺𝐢 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝗼𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝗼𝐭𝐭𝗼𝗺𝐬 𝐛𝐜 𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝗼 😋, 𝐰𝗼𝐫𝐝 𝐯𝗼𝗺𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝗺𝐚𝗼, 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝗼𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐭!

𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍_ FIRST FIC AND THE YEAR N ON THE FIRST DAY IF BLACK HISTORY MONTH 💪🏾 I BETTER BE SEEING PRAISES OF GRATEFULNESS IN MY INBOX WHEN I WAKE UP LATER 😡 teehee this has been in my drafts for over a year el oh el...

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 : 𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐢_𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 !

#_ 𝐛𝐥𝗼𝐰𝐣𝗼𝐛, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐣𝗼𝐛, 𝐜𝗼𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 <3, 𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝗼𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝗼𝐜𝐤! 𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐢 & 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐝! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 !

You would think that there would be a line, maybe a boundary that Uzui wouldn’t cross, even though he teases you relentlessly like a child. You’d figure that this time around, when he spots you in the very back of the library, completing an essay that’s not due for weeks, he’d do what he always does— childish antics like closing your computer shut or maybe stealing a couple of the books you need for research. Teasing you about being a virgin? Is understandable; he’s done it before. But offering his body to “help” you get rid of it now is new and dangerous.

“What’re you thinking about?” Uzui’s cheeky tone comes from slightly under the table— where’s he not hidden at all, a hand caressing your inner thigh and a soft whine tears from your lips. You don’t wanna look at all but you can’t help it, it’s humiliating as it is equally hot how Uzui looked under you, your cock in his hot hands and mouth just inches away. “You don’t get to think about anything else but me right now, got it?”

You can only mumble out a weak apology when Uzui’s pretty pink tongue pokes out of his lips, and swirls around the head of your cock. Muffling a cry with a mouthful of your sweater, hands clutching the seat of your chair as your hips shake and buck erratically at the pleasure; ‘n Uzui doesn’t try to stop your eagerness, lips wrapping around your leaking head and keens while he jerks the rest of your aching cock off.

“C-coming, ‘m coming! Pleasepleaseplease—” it should be embarrassing how quick you are to release, but Uzui’s mouth feels so good; not even fully sucking you off but his mouth feels so hot ‘n wet that you can’t help chasing for more pleasure. Your vision fades and your body spasms from the hard orgasm that hits you, coming into Uzui’s eager awaiting mouth with a high moan that you can only pray doesn’t echo throughout the library.

Uzui let’s go if you spent dick with a wet pop and presses one, two, three kisses against the girth of your cock, peering up at you through thick lidded lashes as he studies your fucked expression.

“Such a pretty dick wasted on someone like you,” he snides in that same tone you know all too well, “But it’s okay, ‘m make teach ya how to use it to fuck someone good, you got it?”

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 : 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝗼𝐤𝐮_𝐤𝐲𝗼𝐣𝐮𝐫𝗼 !

#_𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝗼𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝗺., 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝗺𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐡, 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝗼𝐤𝐮'𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 (𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞𝗺𝐚𝐫𝐤) !

Rengoku strives to please you; you’re so sweet to him, and he lives off the attention and the praise that leaves your lips whenever he’s been good. He’ll follow your orders as best as he can, ‘cuz it’s not his fault that he sometimes gets too excited and overstimulated, ‘k? You just get him so worked up he can’t help it!

It’s not his fault he got excited in the mist of studying, it’s all yours, you, with your stupid pretty face and your hands that grip his inner thigh, where he’s so sensitive and he just can’t help but get hard! But you’re so good to him and you’ll give him exactly what he needs; you’ll let him indulge himself just this once, let him use your dick however he pleases.

“Does it feel good?” you ask with difficulty, throat burning as sharp gasps leave your mouth. Rengoku fucks himself on you hard, lifting his hips up ‘till just your tip in, then slamming his hips down. Both of your thighs slap together and you can’t help but wheeze out at every thrust, his muscular body weighing hard on top of your own.

“F-feels good— want more, please,” Rengoku babbles, hands grasping your shirt in an effort to steady himself. He can feel his knees and thighs burn, ‘n he feels tired but it feels so good as well, his cock still hard and leaking even after coming a few times.

“Greedy little thing,” you hum, after Rengoku pulls you into a messy kiss. “Greedy boy wants to be stuffed full of come, huh? Is that what you want?”

You breath stutters as you feel so close to coming, hands gripping Rengoku’s waist and fucking up into his tight cunt as best as you can. Rengoku’s legs give out at that force, and he can’t do anything but moan and drool as you continue to thrust erratically.

“W-wan’it,” he whines, pressing his lips against your neck to mark; and the slight pain only adds to the pleasure for you. “You’re close, right? Want your c-cum— in me, my stomach, want it all, wanna be stuffed by you—”

His words only send you to the edge, fucking up into him as you orgasm, thick ropes of cum being stuffed into his tight hole, just like he wanted it.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 : 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮_𝐭𝗼𝗺𝐢𝗼𝐤𝐚 !

#_𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐞𝗺𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐞𝗺𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝗼𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮, 𝐬𝐡𝗼𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝗼𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 !

“I try to be so nice to you, but you can’t be fucking grateful, can you? You’re such a whore that you can’t come unless someone’s pushing you down ‘n being a ‘lil mean to you, huh?”

Giyuu can only whine in agreement, slightly muffled noises from your hand pressing against his mouth. His hips try desperately to rut back against you, eager for more despite what you’re already giving him. His body urges for more; the stretch, the burn, more pain; the sting of it all makes him so needy his little cock can’t help but get hard.

“Oi, arch your back more.” you demand, pressing a harsh slap against his thigh, which was surely going to leave a mark on his easily bruising skin. He tries his best to follow your demands, he really does! But his body aches so much from multiple orgasms that he can barely move a muscle :(.

Giyuu can only whimper as his lax body is easily manhandled into whatever position you desire, not even caring about the condition his body is in. He likes it a little too much, the stack of bruises on his body, old marks barely fading already covered by new ones— marking him as yours, and only yours.

“Fuck, your cunt feels so good.” You growl, hips slamming against him, “gonna cum, you better take it like a good fucking girl.”

Giyuu tries to speak, voice his agreement, because there’s nothing more he’d want that than you to fill him like he deserves— but you’re so animalistic; shoving his head down into the drool soaked sheets (his mess) so he can’t speak, only muffled whines and noises of pain and pleasure can be heard.

Your hand yanks at his hair and pull him up an his knees; grabbing his throat to lead his face to yours, pulling him into an messy tongue filled kiss. His whines get higher, needier, rising in octaves that’ll surely have his throat sore tomorrow.

Giyuu thinks it’ll definitely be worth it.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 : 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝗺𝐢_𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 !

#_𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱?, 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝗼𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝗺𝐢, 𝐩𝗼𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝗼𝐭𝐭𝗼𝗺 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝗺𝐢, 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐭𝗼𝐩 𝗺𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐰! 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝗺𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧 𝗼𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝗼𝗼𝐝 !

“How many times do I have to say ‘you’re mine’ for you to finally understand?”

You can only gasp as Sanemi’s rough hand grabs your chin harshly, getting extremely close to your face. He sneers at the confused whine that leaves your lips at his statement. He hates it; seeing other whores flocking around you like you’re a piece of meat— you are, but only his. He thought he made that very clear since the first time you fucked; seems like he’s gotta etch it into your dumb brain for you to understand.

“Head back. Now.” But he’s already gripping the back of your hair and forcing it into the place he wants without giving you a chance to respond. Breath fanning over the juncture between your neck and shoulder has you shivering — in fear or desperation, you can’t tell. He revels in that fear and unknowingness emitting off of you.

His hips finally start moving— agonizingly slow; grinding his hips and cock up against your stomach. The whine that emits from your throat is needy, impatient; but you know better than to move. Sanemi’s lips come to suck on your neck, leaving small hickies in his wake— every nip at your skin has you keening, hips twitching desperately at every grind of Sanemi’s.

“Fuck, ‘m close,” he whines, his grinding picking up in speed, yet not enough to bring you closer to the brink. Your eyes water, stuttering words of; “please, faster” and “Sanemi, sir” leave your drooling mouth. Sanemi thinks you look so good like this. Below him, submitting to him. As you should and always will be. Just seeing you like this gets him so close.

You feel yourself being knocked from all air as he finally— finally picks up the pace; rough and fast, chasing desperately for his release. Being denied from pleasure for so long has you so close too, and Sanemi cries; “c’mon, fuck me. Make me come!” has you gripping his thick thighs and thrusting up in and erratic rhythm.

“Sanemi, Sanemi, ‘m coming—! Lemme cum, please? I wanna—” you vision blurs and your mouth opens in a silent cry as Sanemi bites— teeth digging into your shoulder as a final push to make you cum; he can taste the copper on his tongue and feel the warmth of your cum filling his hole. His eyes role back in ecstasy as he reaches his own release.

The bite mark on your neck will surely remind you that you’re his. And when it fades, he’ll just do it again.

[thran-duils]

Devils Look Like Angels (Ch. 10)

Title: Devils Look Like Angels (Chapter 10) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Psychotic!Castiel. An unhinged, criminal, supernatural artifact collector extraordinaire… and the reader caught his eye. It will not take her long to realize that beneath the charm and mystique is a crazed killer who will go to great lengths to woo her. Words: 2,014 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Stalking, angst, death/murder, violence

Chap 9 || Chap 11 || Masterpost  || Fanfic masterpost

The next envelope that showed up contained an airline ticket to Hawaii.

I feel the need to make up to you. I sincerely apologize for my miscalculation. Please use this ticket to meet me and I can apologize in person. Inclusive stay and all. Yours truly, Castiel.

You tore the ticket and the note up and put the pieces as far down in the trash can as you could to avoid Sam and Dean spotting them. Slamming the lid closed, you stormed out of the kitchen.

Avoiding being vague on the details of your call with Castiel, you confided with them that you had snapped at him. Your calling him out outright only made this situation all the more unstable, and they needed to be in the loop. Rightfully so, Dean and Sam were not keen on you going out alone for walks anymore. Or out alone at all for that matter and for once during this whole debacle, you agreed. They did not leave you alone at the bunker either and you found yourself biting your nails whenever one of them would leave. Horrible things crossed your mind about what Castiel would do if he kidnapped one of them.

The days passed, your body refusing to fully relax. You were having trouble sleeping again and more than once you found one or both of the boys up and about at an ungodly hour, same as you. Netflix was sure getting its use.

One afternoon, Sam knocked on your door, peeking his head through the crack. You lowered your phone, pausing your dissection of the historical non-fiction you were reading.

“Jody called.”

You began to sit up, concerned, “Is she—”

Quickly, Sam added, “She’s fine. Don’t worry.” You relaxed back onto your elbow, waiting for him to continue. He stepped further into the room. “She’s got what sounds like a case. She doesn’t want to go it alone though. So…”

“So.”

“Are you comfortable going? It was a little awkward I had to tell her I needed to call back. Made up some excuse about your feeling unwell and I needed to check cause the vomiting I was hearing.” He sighed and came another step closer. “I don’t want to force you. But I don’t want to leave you here alone especially with this being states away. If you aren’t comfortable, I can reach out to some others in her area and have them help her out instead of us.”

Too quickly, you said, “That won’t’ be necessary. We can do it.” Sam said nothing, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. “Really. She’s our friend. The least we can do for all the help she’s given us is go for her. I’d feel pretty selfish if we didn’t.”

Sam took that in, nodding in understanding a few moments later. “I get that. Well, I’ll give her a call back. Tell her yeah we can do it and that you’re just hungover; no need to worry about the vomit.”

You chuckled, “Seems believable enough.”

<> <> <>

Falling back onto the couch, you sighed content. Jody was making dinner in the kitchen, a thank you for the assist on the hunt. You could hear Sam in there helping her out. Freshly showered and wrapping yourself up in a fuzzy blanket, you turned the TV on. Dean would come out shortly after he finished showering.

Coming to a stop on Walking Dead, you put the remote down on the coffee table. Zombies were one thing you never wanted to face down, but it was fun to watch.

Jody poked her head into the room, seeing the TV. “Rerun. I was about to tell you to not spoil it if you had Netflix on. I’m only on season six.”

“Super far behind.”

“What can I say? Not usually a lot of time for TV. You want a drink? I’ve got pretty much everything.”

You nodded, asking her for your go to, and thanked her.

As she turned to leave, your phone lit up.

Great.

Reluctantly, you picked it up, nervous about what you were going to find.

I hope you are not still irritated with me, kitten. Perhaps something lowkey to smooth things over? Dinner? We are overdue.

Snorting annoyed, you tossed your phone back down onto the table, refusing to respond.

<> <> <>

When you returned home a couple of days later, he tried again.

What must I do to get back into your good graces? I am at your mercy.

“You were never in my good graces,” you muttered out loud to no one.

<> <> <>

“Zeek invited us down for his birthday, We didn’t go last year.”

This invitation is how you found yourselves in Hot Springs, AR. Admittedly, you had been going stir crazy after coming home from the hunt with Jody and a bar sounded like a good escape. Especially one with friends and even more so, friends who were all hunters. Surrounded by them made you feel more relaxed. Or it was the alcohol. Or a combination of the two. Regardless, you were having fun.

Reaching across the table, you grasped Sam’s arm. “Alright, it’s been a half hour. Can we have another shot yet?”

“Uh, I said an hour. Not a half hour.”

“Man, fuck this. You aren’t our dad,” Dean declared, slamming his hands down on the table as he got up.

You snorted as Sam shook his head, “You’ll regret it in the morning, Dean.”

Defiantly, Dean pointed at Sam and said, “For that old joke, I’m gonna take two now!”

“You’ve already had four and two beers!”

Zeek came up from behind Sam, slurring his words, “Have as much as you want, Dean. It’s my birthday!”

“Hell yeah, it is! Happy birthday!” Dean returned loudly, causing a chorus around him to shout out happy birthday in agreement in Zeek’s direction.

Again, Sam shook his head, smirking a little. “Not the people you should be taking drinking advice from right now.”

“We’ll get you one too, Sammy. Loosen up that stick that’s in your ass,” Dean told him, clapping him on the shoulder as he went by.

“You’re supposed to help me, Y/N,” Sam jokingly scolded you. “Letting me down big time here.”

To appease him, you took a long drink of water. “Better?”

“The only way you won’t be hung over tomorrow is if you keep that up between shots.”

“Duly noted.” Looking around, you asked, “Wasn’t there supposed to be nachos coming?”

Suddenly remembering as well, Sam followed your gaze to the kitchen. “Yeah…”

“Who’s drunk now?”

“Better off than you,” Sam quipped. “I’ll go check on it. It has been awhile. Don’t take the shots without me.”

“Scouts honor. I might go to the bathroom though, so don’t take them without me!”

Sam promised and left the table. You sat for a few moments, tapping your fingers on the table. You really did have to go to the bathroom. Better do it before they got back. When you stood up, you stumbled a little, quickly correcting yourself.

“Whoops,” you giggled quietly to yourself. You took another long drink of water for good measure and then headed towards the bathroom.

You held back a groan seeing how long the line was. The men’s room was on the other side and you contemplated playing too drunk to notice if anyone said anything about you going in there. Solid enough plan. You backed away from the line and turned to go across to the other hall.

When you entered the hall, you frowned realizing the door said ‘exit’ not bathroom. There were woods outside… or maybe an outhouse.

It was a process to make sure you did not pee on yourself as you squatted in the woods right outside the bar. Proud of yourself, you stumbled back through the sticks and undergrowth to the door, barely avoiding tripping over a spare piece of wood that you hissed a curse at.

The door did not budge when you pulled.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you groaned. “It should say locks behind you!”

You gave the door a swift kick of annoyance before huffing and turning away from it. You pouted as you began to walk around the building towards the front to go back inside. You were sure Sam and Dean would tease you mercilessly so you thought you should keep it to yourself and say you had just gone outside for air.

Coming around the corner, you startled, letting out a small yelp as you came face to face with Castiel.

“I am beginning to have the suspicion you are actively avoiding me,” he informed you calmly. He was dressed in an all blue, crisp suit, black gloves adorning his hands, completely out of place for this backwoods bar.

Swallowing sharply, you felt the numbness of shock thrumming through you at the fact he was standing there in front of you. Your eyes flicked to the front deck, where no one was standing despite the warm air inside and all the smokers.

“Love, you know I took risk coming here to this hunter’s den all so I could speak with you,” Castiel remarked, moving his head to lock eyes with you to get your attention back. He rose his brows expectantly, “Can you please grant me a few moments considering that?”

Defeated at being cornered, you made to shrug but lost your balance, having to quickly catch yourself on the side of the bar.

Castiel reached out protectively to catch you, his hands holding you tight. “How much have you imbibed? Truly? You know that is terrible for your body.”

Snorting at generally everything he said, you told him, “Really? You’re going to chastise me about drinking?”

Steadying you, Castiel informed you tightly, “Quite so. Nobody else in your life appears to care about your health. I should order my men to teach those Winchesters a lesson, frankly, for allowing you to get so damn drunk. When I told them to watch out for you in my absence, I meant it.”

He had his cell out and you realized he really meant to text his men. This meant they were really inside and despite all the friends, they could seriously injure the guys before they got taken down most likely.

“Don’t!” you exclaimed, reaching for his phone.

He yanked it away from you quickly. “Kitten, it is rude to try to reach for other people’s things without permission.”

“Sorry,” you blurted, recoiling. “Don’t do that please. I’m listening. I swear.”

A fleeting smile, “That is all I wanted.” His cell was slipped neatly back into his jacket. He took a step closer to you, “I was beside myself with loneliness in Hawaii. The beaches lacked luster without you. Being stood up… have you ever been? No, I do not imagine you have. It is not a good feeling to say the least. Especially since it was you that did it. And then refusing to even politely decline dinner?”

Before you could say anything, he pressed on, “Come. Join me at my rental. It is on the lake and I am sure you will find it more than agreeable.”

You looked at him taken aback at this invitation to join him overnight. Castiel had a tough time holding back his frustration, “Y/N, please. Give me more credit than that. I do not think of you as some cheap trollop. On my word as a gentleman, I expect nothing more than your company.”

Mind racing, you weighed your options. If you refused him, his men might hurt Sam and Dean. If you went with… you were at his mercy. All alone.

“Come now,” Castiel held out his hand for you to take. “I am sure by now you are being sought out due to absence. Please do not make me spend the night alone in that big empty house.”

He was elated when you placed your hand in his and he helped you to his car.

Driving away, you remembered your phone was still at the table.

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass