#but neither of them mentally or musically aged well

[uselesssomebody]

𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕦𝕡 - post!d&w!logan howlett x reader

complete masterlist | logan howlett - coming soon!

words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets stood up, and logan consoles her - in more than one way

a/n || self indulgent :)) guess what happened to me guys !!

➵ i know i've been literally dead but i may be back! not sure fully yet lol but i've missed writing. shocker, college is in fact hard and i've spent a whileeee adjusting. that also means my writing is prob a bit shit here but i just wanted to get this out

➵ first time writing logan - i watched deadpool & wolverine and oh my godddd this man can fucking get it. haven't watched the x-men movies so i kinda had to guess his accent, sorry if it's inconsistent. this is set after the events of deadpool & wolverine

➵ shall i revamp the blog theme guys? i don't have any ideas but idk if you guys are bored by it haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/a wee bit of angst

➵ fingering

➵ age gap (not a plot point)

(tell me if i miss anything)

having 2 people in a one bedroom apartment was already cramped. 3 is insane. as much as wade tried, he felt bad for poor hugh's - *cough* logan's back for constantly swapping between the dingy couch and the mattress on the floor to sleep.

and the wolverine was never the type to ask for help, it pissed him off. they had been nearly atomized together for christ's sake!

another room on the floor had opened up, and as much as wade wanted to kick blind al off to that room instead, he knew the old lady wouldn't be able to pay the whole rent herself, and he had to make sure she didn't use too much fun-time sugar under fox's watchful eye. luckily, neither did logan have to live alone, as wade was quick to find a down-on-her-luck college girl who needed cheap rent.

so, now wade's stuck with an ornery old woman, and pretty-boy - well, man - logan got to have a cute girl as his roommate. just his luck. he checked in on his fellow invincible often, and as much as logan didn't talk, wade knew he didn't mind her one bit.

she tried to be a good roommate - cook breakfast for the both of them, pick up a sweet treat for him too if she was getting one for herself, and trying to keep to herself with the studying. but she couldn't help the little crush that she had on her roommate. like, come on.

older, mature, mysterious, downright yummy? what's a girl to do? she kept it to herself, but seeing him smirk or chuckle when she realizes she's accidentally been staring at him in that leather jacket or shirtless going to bed. at least she doesn't make him uncomfortable, but it feels pretty dismissive - how he sees her as such a fucking kid that he can't even take her attraction seriously.

logan took it very fucking seriously.

every day was a mental challenge - truly, god gives his worst temptations to his strongest soldiers. the liquor on his breath was still strong, not now because his life was ruined, but rather because his mind was.

this cute, young girl who looked at him like he was the solution to all her relationship issues, like his old-man body was good enough to fucking eat? it was a miracle that he hadn't taken her. and she just looked so beautiful as she got ready for bed, or as she bobbed her head to music while she studied, or as she buzzed around the small kitchen to cook her third cheap pasta for the week.

it didn't help how she'd always ask how he is, buy him little things to keep his mood up, and always offered to take the couch. he'd rather eat glass than let her sleep on the couch, but nonetheless, she offered every day.

fuck. it was impossible to sleep when she was just behind the wall, in her fucking shorts and tank. unbelievable. he needed a fucking drink.

some nights, he'll come home in the evenings to an empty house. it's rare - she doesn't have too much money to go out, but when she does, she'll usually warn him she'll be home late. he always makes sure to stay awake until she gets home, and even had the privilege of going into downtown to pick her up after the friends she was with had managed to lose her. she had hiccuped, tearing up in embarrassment as she watched him approach her drunk form leaning on a tree outside. she had thought the stern arch of his brow was because of her calling him so late, when really, he was just angry that her friends had the audacity to put her in such a dangerous situation.

"it's windy." he grunts, and she looks down at her short, strappy dress, ashamed.

"s-sorry. we drove here." she tries to explain, and logan relents, brow going from angry to grumpy.

"yeah." he finally sighs, walking with her back to their place. seeing her hands go to cradle her elbows, he places his leather jacket over her shoulders, and she swallows thickly.

"you don't have to-" but he's lighting a cigar as she speaks, in just his wifebeater he'd been lounging in. she decides to shut up, silent until they reach the house.

he helps her in and then waits outside to finish the cigar, and after she gets in, she sighs softly, carefully placing the jacket down. she starts trying to make logan some dinner as a thank-you, but passes out at the dinner table half-way through. luckily, she hadn't had the stove on, and logan's heart melts as he sees her, halfway through mixing a few eggs, head lolling off the chair as she drools a little.

cutie, he thinks, separating her fingers from the fork and bowl, and carrying her into the bed. as he tries to set her down, her fingers clutch his arm, and a small, sleepy whine leaves her.

logan's not a man to blush, but hearing that little beg for him to stay makes him fucking burn. he looks down at her, a hand running through his hair, and he gently tries to let her down again. she just holds on tighter, groaning, "warm..." a little mumble escapes her, and logan huffs. of course it's not that she wants him, she's just cold. he sighs, sitting down and letting her cuddle into his arm.

he had planned to leave once she'd passed out, but it was late, and he was old, so he had ended up just sleeping next to her anyways. the sun's rays the next morning pierce his eyes, and he sighs softly, waking up next to her. he swallows thickly, watching the way the sun hits her form, bathing her exposed skin in orange and amber.

the moment is broken by her startling awake. for a moment, she sighs happily, thinking that this was just a continuation of her dream about logan, where she wakes up next to him after a night of great sex, and they both live happily ever after. then she blinks.

his bicep feels bigger than in the dream, his face looks a little more real, he's- real?!

she squeaks, immediately sitting up.

"logan?"

"don't go getting any ideas in your head." he immediately defends, sighing. "you called me last night."

she bites her lip.

"you took me home?"

"put you in bed too. then ya fucking kept me on ya like a boa." he's joking, but she still struggles to tell between his grumpy voice and his joking grumpy voice.

"fuck, i'm really sorry, must have ruined your night-" she starts, and he gets up, ruffling her hair.

"it's okay. better knowing you were safe." it leaves her a little star struck, especially when he then goes to continue making the omelette she had tried to make last night.

he's cooking for her for once and she gets such a nice view of his broad back in that wife-beater. maybe things aren't that bad.

knowing how she always texts if she's out late, he's a bit confused to come home to an empty room. he huffs, trying not to panic, but he can't help how much he care for the girl. he leans back, lounging on the couch.

as an hour passes with no texts, he's about to get up and ... do something. look for her, call her - something.

just then, she walks through the door, purse dropping on the floor with a thud.

that's an attitude he hadn't seen before. she looks like a deer in headlights when she notices that he is in fact home.

"o-oh." she blinks, quickly picking up the purse, as if to console it. "wade said you weren't home." logan raises a brow, a little curious why the other man would say that.

"long day?" he finally comments, and she breathes out.

"shit day." she corrects. logan's brow furrows.

"hmm." he murmurs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch. an open invitation. she hesitates but... he looks warm.

conservatively, she sits beside him, hands in her lap. she's not even paying attention to whatever channel logan has on as background noise.

theres maybe 5 solid minutes of silence.

finally, she sighs.

"i'm gonna go to bed." she murmurs softly, getting up. logan wraps his fingers around her palm.

"talk to me." he mumbles gruffly, and she knows that's a pretty big first step for him. she bites her lip, sitting back down, and takes a deep breath.

"got stood up." it's little more than a whisper, and she feels a pout forming on her lips, which she tries to reverse, to little avail. it's silent again, and she wonders if logan heard her.

of course, he did - spending a moment processing who the hell would stand her up.

"i'm sorry." his rough fingers press over hers, comforting, and she can't help but sink more into him than the couch cushions.

it feels nice, more right than the kisses she'd shared with the guy she'd been seeing.

"whatever." she tries to mumble, trying not to show her hurt.

"he's an idiot." his hand slips around her shoulders, and he can feel her pulse quicken.

"i'm an idiot."

"he's an idiot." he repeats sternly. "who was he?" she bites her lip.

"some... guy." logan suppresses a scoffing bark.

"not if he's got you like this." he looks down at her. she's ashamed to look up at him.

"i don't know... i just really liked him. i thought he liked me too." she feels a tear slip out, and logan's fist squeezes in anger as he sees her quickly wipe it away.

"he should be singin' his prayers that he even got your attention." that makes her giggle - strained, but there. he prefers the sound to her defeated mumbles. "look at me." he murmurs, taking her chin and angling it to face him. his eyes travel down to the cute dress she'd put on for her date - low cut, perfectly form fitting, "he's a fucking idiot." he whispers, hand slipping down to her waist.

"yeah?" she whispers, significantly less focused on aforementioned 'fucking idiot' now.

"yeah, princess." he murmurs, hand gently running up and down her side. he knows he shouldn't, but he can practically feel the jump of her heart at the endearment. "you like that? princess?" his voice almost has a teasing lilt, and her lids flutter at the difference in tension from 2 minutes ago.

"a little." her face looks so bashful, so unsure. after that depressing feeling of not being wanted - god, he wants to pull her out of that so bad.

"should be treated like a princess." she shifts imperceptibly closer.

"got a guy who'll do that for me?" she teases, and logan scoffs softly.

"you know i do." his voice carries that gruffness even with how quiet he is, speaking into the small space between their lips. "you know, princess."

she breathes out shakily, leaning forward, when logan pulls her chin, pressing his lips to hers. she whimpers softly, finding her hands and placing them at his nape, not wanting to let go. it's not rough, but needy, his other hand slipping to the hem of her dress on her thigh. she hums into his lips, as he pulls away, a little breathless.

"don't - we shouldn't." he whispers, and a pout graces her lips - a proper one.

"why?"

"yer upset." he sighs, but doesn't move away.

"about?" she says playfully, having fully forgotten about her evening; she'd been waiting for this for so long. he lets out a gruff bark of a laugh, pulling her closer, and she adjusts, getting on his lap.

"come on, bub." he scolds again, and she hums, leaning down to kiss him.

"please?" she whispers, against his lips. he groans.

"jesus, what're y'doin' to me?" his head tilts back, and she giggles, exhilarated that she's got him like this. her hands trail down his arms - god, his arms - tracing the veins, somehow always bulging, as she gently leans forward again, kissing him. this time, theres a bit more tongue, and he pulls her closer roughly, gnashing their teeth together. she moans softly into his mouth, fingers finding his rough palm. he grips them tight - not enough to hurt, but just enough to show that he's holding back.

"i'm not made of glass." she teases, and he scoffs softly.

"i could snap ya'n half." his mumble finds his way back into her lips, and she has to control herself to not showhow much the little quip affected her.

"maybe i want you to."

"jesus." he flips her over, onto her back, "got this pretty little dress on, fuck, that guy's an idiot." his hands travel down her thighs, and she bites her lip, a massive grin on her face.

"you like it?" she murmurs softly, playing with the strap of her dress.

"whadya think?" he huffs, and she giggles.

"and if i told you i got it for you?" logan presses a hot kiss to the side of her thigh.

"i'd tell ya to get a dozen more." his lips move up her thigh slowly, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"god, logan." her whispers of his name are like music to his ear, and he leaves a small bite by the hem of her dress.

"gotta tell me if i hurt you." he mutters, more seriously, and she smiles.

"only fun if it hurts."

"i'm serious, princess." she relents.

"i'll tell you." he sighs in content, gently riding her dress off.

"this okay?"

"more than okay." she helps him, pulling the dress over her hips, her lacy panties peeking under the fabric. when he spends just a bit too long staring, she giggles, "you can touch." she affirms, and he barks out a gruff lap.

"could'a guessed that much." his fingers trace the hem of them, travelling down her inner thighs. her breath hitches, and she gently rolls her hips, desperate for more.

"please, logan." she whispers, breathing a bit labored. though he'd love to tease, he's getting desperate too.

"gotta tell me what ya want, princess." he murmurs, and she bites her lip, almost shy again. it's cute.

"touch me?" she murmurs, almost like it's a favor she's asking. he kisses her thigh again, before gently peeling the panties off. he lets out a soft groan at how slick she is, fingers catching her arousal as they travel down her slit. she lets out a shocked gasp - practically a moan - and he fucking loves it.

`'need them, princess?" he smirks at her, and she nods, almost pathetically.

"god, i do." he obliges, gently prodding her entrance with his middle finger. he slips in with little resistance, but jesus, he can feel how tight she is.

"fuck, yer gonna be the death of me, princess." he groans softly, and she lets out a breathy giggle.

"thought that doesn't happen to you?"

"well, never had a girl as pretty as you." he murmurs, slipping another finger in. she flushes, back arching as his fingers do, body warm as she rocks her hips in time with his ministrations.

"faster?" she begs softly, and he could never say no to those big doe eyes. he starts moving faster, her slick absolutely coating his fingers, and she moans louder, hips moving in a more stuttered rhythm.

"like that?" that teasing lilt is in his voice, and she nods furiously.

"j-just like that-" she stammers, mind already foggy, "god, i'm close, please don't stop."

"not in a million years, princess." she lets out a loud moan as she can feel herself unraveling, the orgasm so powerful that her thighs shake around him as she cums. she pants as he helps her ride through it.

"good girl, just like that, princess," he consoles, "so fuckin' pretty for me, ain't cha?" he grins, as she starts to come down. as her breathing slows, so too do his fingers, before slowly sliding them out of her. he gently rubs her clit, just to see her jolt at the stimulation, before chuckling, and placing his soaked fingers onto his tongue.

she lets out another moan as she watches him, with lidded eyes.

"i'll cum again." she warns, playfully, and he's gleeful. she tastes like fruit.

"i plan on it, princess." she feels her cheeks warm.

"that's the hardest i've cum in a while." she admits shyly.

"sounded like it." he teases, but before they can get anything else out, there's banging on the wall that connected them to wade and blind al.

"these walls are paper thin!" al's screech sounds a little traumatized, and her scolding make both her and logan whip around, embarrassed.

"for once in my life, i agree with her! shut up, lovebirds, i wanna fucking sleep!" wade's voice is equally exasperated.

there's silence, until she calls back a bashful, "sorry!" she turns to logan, almost laughing, but still flushed with shame. "maybe we should stop. he scoffs.

"nah, just means i gotta teach ya to be quiet."

safe to say, she's not thinking at all about her date tonight.

[itonashi]

I am ME.

SUMMARY : Known around the world — a genius scientist named [Name][Last Name]. Everyone sought to be her as she was deemed perfect. A young prodigy that managed to climb up the ranks alongside her friends. She met her demise at the age of 35. It shook the world. Tears fall because of her. Will there be another her?

PAIRING : aquamarine hoshino x fem!reader

WARNINGS : implied deaths, stalking, drugs, slow burn romance, murder, more will be added.

A/N : 2k words. goddamn.. hehe enjoy and pls remember im not an expert still in the adults world neither i am that smart LOL.

4 years later...

You're 6 years old right now. Well, physically. You do not have the patience to restrain myself from not talking all the time. Your babysitter is sleeping. You're infront of a tv. Remote beside you. Maybe, you should change it to a music show?

You're bored after all. No freedom so what else can you do? You change the channel to a music show. After you change it, The MC was announcing the winner for the music show.

"Let's congratulate, B-Komachi!" The MC exclaimed and the audiences roared at the mention of B-Komachi. The members went up the stage, taking the award.

"That girl... looks familiar." You muttered under your breath. A beautiful girl with a blue purplish hair color took the mic and start her speech while giving a heart gesture.

That's the girl you met before. She was interesting to say the least. Even from a first glance, you knew that she hailed from an abusive and solemn past. She was expressionless, she talked to you without any interest in the world and show the real her. To see her become an idol.. does that means she's lying to herself right now.

What drove her to be an idol? You met her only once and yet you feel like, she would be important later on. How captivating, you hope the future is kind to her.

"And that's all from me! Ai!" She waved and giving the mic to another member.

Idol. A career that isn't appreciate enough. Some people on the world looked down upon this career. Just singing and dancing, they said. It's more than that.

Idol need to have a perfect image. One wrong step, then scandal will come for them. Especially if you're a famous group. They have to lie. They have to please their fans. One mistake and it will be talk about for years even after disbanding. The entertainment industry is dangerous. Strict to the point they could take your life.

Idol is also human. They're not robot. They also have feelings. Idols are admirable, they need to have a strong mental to handle the hate. The world is unfair to them. There's so many cases on what happened to idols for the past years and some of it is cruel.

Every career have it's upside and downside. There's no need to compare.

You broke out of your thoughts when the front door opening. You didn't even realize your babysitter already went home. "[Name]." Your father called out to you. You stand up and walk towards him with a tiny smile on your face. Your father wasn't that bad now that you have observed him for 3 years.

He looks like he love your mother dearly. Before going to work, he would always give a kiss to the cheek on your mother. Your mother would blush a little. He carry you to his arm and bring you to his lap.

"I need you to make a decision, [Name]." He said with a stern tone. You tilt your head and nod. "Do you want the easy life or the hard life?" He added, starting into your eyes with a little smile.

You widen your eyes a little "I choose the hard life!" You give an eye closed smile to your father. You felt like being silly while saying that. You expect that if you choose the hard life, he would put you into the entertainment industry. This is the time for you to reveal how smart you are to your family. You aim to be the youngest people to be scouted into the world organization you were previously in. It is possible, in that organization there's no rules for age. You learn that when a child was born in that organization from a couple.

How's that child you see as a little sister figure doing? You hope she still love drawing and painting. Your plan starts now.

Your father sae the expression on your face and laugh "That's good, [Name]. In this world, there's no one living the easy life. Next week, you will follow me visit some director." Your father said with excitement. This is probably the second time you see him that excited — the first one being the time when you talk for 'first time'

He pat you on the head and left you alone on the couch. 'Did he do that just to left me on the couch?' You deadpan at your father but shrug it off. You lay on the couch and close your eyes, gathering the information you gotten for the 4 years you have been living in this new body.

One thing for sure, one of your friends had a baby at the same year you were born. You pray for the chances to meet the child. This time, there's no mistake. You want more connections than before.

"[Name], are you excited to see a child acting on the site?" Your father is driving the car to a filming site. He said the director is someone named Taishi Gotanda. You don't really remember the great things that Taishi guy have did since you weren't that keen on keeping up with the media world.

"Yeah! I'm excited! They're the same age as me, right?" You exclaimed. "No, you're the older one there." He said. Great, being the eldest means babysitting. Well, not if the children is discipline properly.

You arrive at the site and you scan around the site for a potential connection to be made with. Your father tap your back and you follow him behind his back. "Oh, Yoshino-san. Great to have you here." The Taishi guy shake your father's hand and he noticed you behind your father. You notice his eyes and smile while waving to him. 

'This is boring.' You thought while walking a little bit away from your father. "Yoshino-chan, please follow me." A staff called out to you. You faced them and nod. "Your father said that you would only see how the process goes. You don't need to do any acting." The staff stated while leading you to a waiting room. You only hum at her to show that you're still listening to her.

'What a quiet kid...' The staff thought. The staff left you as soon as you arrive at the waiting room. You saw three kids and overhear their conversation. "Bet her acting was so bad they had to cut it all out! She seems to be good at buttering people up, though!" The child with red hair uttered.

The red hair proceed to be kinda rude in your opinion to other people. She left not before noticing you though. She look at you up and down and left. 'Is this how kids are?' You sweat at the child behavior. You look inside the room and saw two kids who you assume is twin because of the similarities. The annoyed expression on their face is visible, probably because of that girl? She's Arima Kana , if you remember correctly.

The girl who can flick a crying switch. Well, whatever. You bow at the twin and introduce yourself. They notice you and bow as well. "Oh, I'm Hoshino Ruby! And he's my brother. Hoshino Aquamarine but call him Aqua." The girl claim. What a weird name for japanese people.. The first thing you noticed about the pair is their eyes. It was captivating enough to lure you in. I'm sure they would become a big part of the entertainment industry. A powerful duo, they would say.

"Nice to meet you.." Aqua greet you with a neutral face. An opposite personality of his sister. A smile crawled up your face. "Soo.. why are you guys here?" You questions their presence at the filming site. "I will be acting while my sister here well.. she's just here, I guess." The boy deadpan. "How rude!" Ruby exclaimed.

You nod and cross your arm "It seems like Ruby is the same as me. I will only be watching." You hope that a friendship will bloom between you guys.

Amazing. You lightly smirk at the acting Aqua did. He only act like himself but he was incredibly creepy with it as that was what's the director aiming for. Maybe, the main part of it was because he seems mature for his age and his eyes. You just can't seem to let go of the beauty. "How did you think about it, [Name]?" Your father ask you with interest towards the young boy. "It's amazing, father. Can I start acting too?" You replied while staring at Arima Kana who was crying.

"It's never to late for you to be like your mother." Your father stated while lightly smiling at you "I can get you a role. Make sure to past my expectations." He added. Looks like the expectations for results is starting.

After that, your father have been keeping contacts with the twin since he have taken an interest on the young boy. You occasionally met the twin and learn more about them one by one. Sadly, your father couldn't keep hold of the them — Director Taishi Gotanda did.

You appear on multiple drama show as a child actor and made a name for yourself. There have been talks that you would conquer Arima Kana the child actor prodigy. You don't intend to do that but if that's what happen, it will happen. But they have to stop the  comparison because every person have their own flaws.

You even got to do some photoshoot for a child's brand. Well, this will be memories in a few years. Atleast, you get to feel being a child again. A carefree child. Because of all the acting, you had to learn new skills everytime even things that you didn't learn in your past life. Naturally, you're good at it.

I guess you would still be a genius this time too.

When the death of Ai Hoshino happened, you attend the funeral with your parent. The people grieving over Ai's death make you recall the time your parent got into a bad accident and passed away because of that. You didn't cry because you had no connection to her but it still hurts to know that the stranger you have met before when they're a teenager to died when they almost turn into a full fledged adult.

You hope the people from Strawberry Production is taking their time to heal from the loss of a staff. You can only give prayers to them.

Later on, the death of Ai was just like a wind breeze that pass every day. No one talk about it after a week. Some may move on and some didn't. Ai Hoshino may you rest in peace.

A year of being in the entertainment industry — thanks to your father. You don't care if they call you a nepo baby. You're talented, that's all that matter. You were invited to a variety show and you were excited since you can freely show your talents there. No on can say a thing about it. No one will question it.

You met the cast and greet them. It was going well until they start talking about your acting career. "Yoshino-san, you really resemble your mother and your acting skill is incredible. Mind to share a tip?" The MC compliment your acting. "I can't because I am ME. I don't think much on what to do and just go with the flow." You said with a neutral tone. One thing about the entertainment industry, they won't question what the kids say since their still not mature for their age and just let out what's on their mind. Even if you have a sharp tongue, the people will love it. They don't mind it when a kid do it. At the very least, you have to have a character that will make people love you.

That would make people remember you for a long time.

"Yoshino-san, your father said before in an interview that you are a genius. Top at everything, is that true?" One of the cast commented. You smirk "Why don't you give me a question and let me answer it? I would prefer if it's a math question, though." With this, you will make moments for yourself. The cast laugh at your confidence and gave you a whiteboard. You will be competing with the 'smartest' cast, they said.

"69 x 4."

Ding!

A ring was made by you. The questions was too easy. As former scientist, you had to count percentage so this is a piece of cake for you. The cast beside you look at you bewildered. "276." You confidently said. "Correct!" The MC exclaimed. You know that they're looking down on you. You ought to prove them wrong.

After a series of questions, the people were speechless upon your smartness. The adults didn't expect this. Your mother look at you behind the swarm of staff and smile widely. You notice it and wave a little.

Soon, the filming ended. You were tired and hold out your arms to your mother. Your mom chuckle s and carry you up to her arms and kiss you on the cheeks. "You did good, my little angel." Your mother praises you. You snuggle up to her. Even though, you are an adult mentally but you want to indulge in this child body of your of receiving parent's love.

Even an adult wants to heal their inner child.

TAGLIST : @glitch-karma @kult-o @miyakoa @pandaswitch @serbian-x @nambii @bajifairyy @lumiriai

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itonashi © // don't plagiarize, copy or edit my works.

[carcassarkis]

Underground: Revamped

#2

Information about some supporting cast!

Knuckles

The last of the echidna

Considered one of Robotnik’s “lackeys,” though more often acts in his own interests

Quills glow due to unknown causes; Robotnik believes it has to do with his medallion

Lived in the flourishing remnants of Mobius under Stripes’ leadership. No one knew he existed in their vicinity, as he was in a hidden grotto attempting to keep his ancestors’ history alive. He was an older puggle when Robotnik struck his deal with Stripes. Knuckles grew upset and intercepted Robotnik’s machinations. The scientist, seeing potential in taking the last of the echidna, took him under his wing and spoke of others trying to steal the echidna’s “life purpose.” He immediately sticks to the scientist like a nervous-yet-bullheaded child.

Knuckles grows up as Robotnik’s unofficial ward. He has his medallion, though he doesn’t know exactly what it does. He finds the Sonic Underground to be disrespectful to his ancestors and their protection of chaos energy. He refuses to show Robotnik his first home.

Age: 14-16

Shadow Robotnik

Robotnik’s “official” ward

Considered one of Robotnik’s “lackeys,” though ignores most of the scientist’s whims

Wears mechanical gloves to give the illusion of roboticization

Technically is Robotnik’s nephew, but neither make that public knowledge. Maria Robotnik was his cousin, but the pair had a close sibling relationship. She took over their grandfather’s project, Shadow, and started caring for him as if he were her own. Her sudden death brought Shadow and the doctor under the same roof. Shadow doesn’t care about Robotnik’s designs for the future, he just wants his mom back.

Shadow and Knuckles have a stepbrother-esque relationship. The pair team up if Robotnik requires it, but they don’t care how sloppily they do it. They have better things to do. Shadow has been granted the privilege to see Knuckles’ original home. He goes there to stare up at the stars, sometimes.

Age: 15-17

Miles “Tails” Prower

Mechanic under Robotnik

Dingo’s little brother

Violinist, secret fan of the Sonic Underground

Came with Dingo when he started working for Robotnik. Scared that they might be kicked out and/or roboticized at any moment. He started tinkering in biomechanics after Dingo was experimentally roboticized with biological nanobots that allow for his physical form to change. He constructed an electronic violin to try and help counter the brainwashing that common forms of roboticizing cause.

He started sneaking into resistance meetings to try and catch the attention of the Sonic Underground. He is a very big fan and wants to work up the courage to ask them for help with getting he and his brother out of Robotnik’s reach.

Age: 8-10

Frye “Dingo” Prower

Mercenary under Robotnik

Tails’ older brother

Experimental biomechanical roboticization used on him

Recruited by Sleet under the promise of providing for his brother. Views Sleet as a fatherly figure. Has a good conscience, but ignores it at Sleet’s behest. Frequently threatened with harm to Tails if he doesn’t comply. Encourages Tails’ interest in music, but tries not to think about it too hard for fear that Sleet or Robotnik will find out.

Frequently gets into scraps with people over Sleet’s reputation. Tries not to let Tails see how the roboticization affects him (intense physical pain, mental strain).

Age: 19-23

Sleet

Well-known mercenary

Works under Robotnik for the thrill

Likes pushing the limits of Dingo’s enhancements

Interplanetary mercenary with a bloody reputation. He doesn’t have the brightest of minds, but his physical prowess and agility prove difficult to overcome. Keeps his left hand uncovered for easy access to the controller over Dingo. His right hand is often used to threaten and maim.

Has a deep dislike for Knuckles, Shadow, and Tails. Finds their presence annoying and detestable. The only reason he doesn’t obliterate them is because he wants to keep a tight leash on Dingo and stay on Robotnik’s good side.

Age: 37-42

Other Notes:

Knuckles, Shadow, and Tails leave each other be. They have no malicious feelings toward each other. Shadow is well aware of Tails’ involvement with the resistance, but couldn’t care less. Knuckles doesn’t care at all, merely complains about the misuse of medallions.

Sleet uses Dingo’s naivety to deflect his crimes. Aside from being a mercenary, he commits petty theft and kidnappings. Dingo’s hero worship proves a good alibi.

Dingo refuses to tell Tails how he got the scar over his eye. Tails suspects it was from a scrap on the streets trying to survive. He actually got it from their mother after she threw them out for being a burden, but he wants Tails to believe their parents were kind.

Dingo’s spots are patches of fur that have lightened due to the stress and physical pain of his roboticization.

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 5: Tip Toe

After the events of the mission, the conversation between Vander and Vi and Mylo's testimony against you, you still have to continue. Strangely enough, Vander calls you for a private conversation.

---

"Lever"

"Le-ver!"

"Exactly!"

You were back in the Basement of The Last Drop. You and Powder were sitting on her bed, leaning against the wall. In the background, music was playing through an old record player, which also had something like a trumpet on it. It was quiet, relaxed and almost made you forget what you had both been listening to a few minutes ago.

 "What the hell were you thinking?"

"They are a Problem."

 "They made a mistake" - "Name one time they haven't"

 "You were twice the person at half their age."

The sentences echo in your head, one popping up again and again, making you feel the emptiness in your stomach. Powder was with you, you ran away from the Thug together, but you threw the bag into the sea.

And now, you're giving Powder something like a lesson again. You've been doing that since you were all taken in by Vander. For your young age, you could already read and write, a privilege no one from Zaun had. Most people can't do math either, whether it's money or goods. Since Vi already knew the letters, but Powder couldn't do either of those things, you taught them.

Even if you preferred to stare into Powder's sapphire blue eyes and get lost in them during this lesson, it went really well. Powder learned incredibly quickly, after just two days she was able to memorize all the letters, much faster than Vi, who only repeated everything in a hurry.

And so here you are again, but not really in class mentally. You can't stop thinking about the big notebook from the Academy apartment, the Holy Wizard Corpse. Since you learned from one of the pages almost an hour ago that there are corpse parts in Zaun and Piltover, you can't clear your head. You kept thinking about which of the Nine Parts are hiding here, in this hole, in Zaun... And what they can do. Does it have something to do with magic or some natural force of the world?

But all the while thinking about it, the whole job pops into your head about how you and Powder screwed up and all the loot is gone.

"And this Lever is an object." You say, not with as much conviction as usual, but enough to make it sound like educational words. You look to your right, to Powder, and expect a definition for object.

"An object..." Powder replies, actually quite quickly. She looks to your left for a moment, makes a thinking face and turns right again. She stretches her arm forward, grabs a piece from a metal mesh-like box and tinkers with her gadget. "Soooo...A Thing?"

Should I talk to her about Vi's statement? No, I can't do that. They're sisters, hearing something like that from your own must be much worse than from someone like Mylo.

"Yeah...A Thing." You say after a few seconds. Your mouth utters the words while your other senses automatically focus their attention on her. Her hair, her soft pale skin and everything about her was perfect. She didn't see herself that way, neither do you, after all you're both the weaklings of the group. But who cares if you have each other?

"A lever is a simple tool that helps you to move or lift heavy things more eas-

You stop talking and see Vi out of the corner of your eye. Her red hair immediately stands out in the dim light. She walks towards you, a light smile tracing her lips as she sees you both sitting there.

"What are you calling this one?" Vi asks quietly as she stops in front of the bed and leans forward slightly.

Your eyes immediately fixate on her, a few things wander through your mind.

What is she doing here? And why is she asking about Whisker, as if she's really interested? She wants us both to train or something. Or is she here to tell us what an embarrassment we've made of ourselves today? After all, she agreed with Mylo about what he said to us.

"Whisker" This time Powder waits a few seconds before answering. It even sounds slightly broken, as if she hesitated to answer. She was probably thinking the same thing you were: that Vi wants to address what happened today and distract you for now.

Powder takes the little gadget in one hand and starts drawing on it with the other. She does this with each of her creations and you could watch her for hours. It's an art how her slender fingers spread the color on the metallic surfaces and it becomes an invention.

With that, Vi suddenly moves towards you, onto the bed. While you hold on to Powder, she sits down next to you on the left, a slight distance from Powder, after all it was clear what was coming next.

"Wanna talk about today?"

Neither you nor Powder look over at her. The mood is pretty shitty, after all, she's addressing the two who lost the Haul. You think, the simple "no" answer definitely won't satisfy Vi. She's a pretty direct and determined person, so if she wants to appeal to your feelings, she can.

So you answer, dazed and in a depressive mood, but you answer.

"Why? I Ruined Everything." It sounds like rubbish coming out of your mouth. How many times have you apologized to the others just because you didn't get something right? "I'm sorry I'm so weak." Or "I didn't know, I'm sorry." If you think about it, you've already lost count of how many times you've apologized for something like that. Definitely too many times.

"Oh, I almost forgot..." Vi starts, not even a second after you've spoken. You turn your head towards her, a few strands of hair obscuring a completely clear view of her head, but her light blue eyes stare right through you. "Vander wanted to talk to you."

What, Vander wants to talk to me? Does he know what you and Mylo said about us and wants something like an apology from you to us? But does he want to talk to me alone or with Powder-

"In private."

That's all Vi had to say. You immediately push yourself over the sheet, even though you would have actually been further into the conversation, it's probably better if the two sisters talk about it among themselves. Powder can probably answer much better than you, after all, she's rather articulate with words.

The last thing you see before you leave the room is Vi moving into your now vacated seat and starting to talk to Powder.

There you are, sitting opposite Vander's tall, strong and serious stature. You just walked up the stairs again, and there he was. He stayed here, where he'd been talking to Vi privately an hour ago. But she was definitely not sitting right in front of me, but in the single chair where she always sat.

"Why do you think I want to talk to you?" Vander's voice rings out across the room. It's deep, bold and the complete opposite of yours. You shift a little in your seat because of your trembling knees, your pounding heart and your head that just can't stop thinking.

Why? It's obvious, because of what happened today. Is he perhaps angry because I lost the haul? Or does he like it because there's no more evidence against us, after all, the things should be at the bottom of the sea now.

"About...today." It sounds more like a question than an answer. Your shaky voice only makes it as far as his ears, you can't hear it yourself. But you see him slowly and quietly sighed, his eyes drift to the ceiling and he adopts a more relaxed posture on the couch opposite you.

"You do understand, right?" He takes his time before answering you, a calm voice and a confident response.

What?

"Vi's leader sense isn't wrong, but she really needs to watch what you're pulling." He finally replies. He gets out of the relaxed position and stretches his arms out in front of him, pressing his hands together. You can see the muscles in his arms, the individual veins flowing through them and the strong skin tone. "You should understand that... After all, you have a good brain."

You immediately understand what he means: you shouldn't just stand by. But you like the way he says it, he doesn't say like the others that you need to train or eat more; he emphasizes your strengths. You are the smartest one in the group, even if you don't show it and don't talk about it. Even if you have a good idea for something that would keep you out of trouble, you never say it.

Vander is the person you trust the most, followed directly by Powder. After all, Vander took you from the bridge soaked in red smoke, not only that, he showed you the other world, and at the same time showed you what it really means to live for something. He always listens to you when you tell him something, whether it's a story or something that bothers you.

"I see what you mean..." You finally answer, your thoughts running like some kind of cogwheel.  You sit down a little better, lean back and put your hands on your knees.

You don't say anything for a few seconds, and neither does he. You take deep breaths from your nose, feel the oxygen literally bring your body to life and get ready to compose your thoughts so that you won't regret it in the future.

Because you are a person who is always thinking about the mistakes from your past.

"In terms of the course of war.... It comes down to one move. One move we make wrong can end really badly for the underworld...My people." He sits up straight, a strong straight stature and his eyes fixed on you. He continues to squeeze his hands together and now interlocks some of his fingers. "What you did today was really dangerous. I've already talked to Vi about it...But you know how she is."

One Wrong Move and the Underworld is torn apart by the Enforcers. But why is he talking about it like he has so much power to manage that one move?

Vander just keeps looking at you, raising an eyebrow as you continue to stare at the floor. You shift slightly from left to right on the comfy couch. Your head is literally seething with questions and theories about Vander's statements.

Yes, he could have a deal with the Enforcers. That would make sense, as long as Vander can make sure that no one from Zaun gets into their business or causes any problems. On the other hand, enforcers don't come down here every day and savagely slaughter the people in their way.

"I understood, Vander."

"So I understand you've already disposed of the Haul?" Vander says, fixing his eyes on your hands and seeming to recognize something. He probably seems to be looking at the light slashes you have from climbing, your skin is more sensitive than others.

"Yes." That's all you say, you just can't get it together. Your mind won't let you process anything more than you just did, apparently you're the only person who's come to the conclusion: Vander has a deal with the Enforcers. The Enforcers, who see the people of the underworld as scum.

"You're a smart boy Y/N, don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He finally says as he slowly rises from the couch across from you. His eyes follow his broad back, and somehow you can't think of anything else but:

I had only just seen his back at the time. The same back that challenged them all on the bridge with the Red smoke. So he made this deal afterwards? How many had he killed on the bridge, in the battle?

But just before he walks out, right at that moment, he stops. At the door of the room, after everything that has happened, it looks for a moment as if he is dead. Slain by the deeds and sins of all the inhabitants of Zaun. You shift slightly in your seat, your eyes fixed on his back, your mind blank, preparing for his words.

"You have potential, Y/N. Just don't waste it." He doesn't turn to you, still facing the door with his massive stature, with you still sitting on the couch anyway. "I don't care if you have too fragile a body, it's the brain that counts. The one who can use small power perfectly will win every battle."

Every battle. But for what? Is he trying to tell me something at the same time? Is something bad going to happen soon?

"By the way, you have to go into hiding, you can go into the little hiding place with the box machine. But you have to remember one thing...

No One Wins in War. " With that he's gone, a slam of the door and your view changes to a normal room without a human soul.

You forget the incident with your assignment. You think about everything that has happened in this short time. No thought escapes you, everything flows through your big memory and is spit out like a computer. It has all happened far too quickly, not only is time moving too fast, everything has happened at once, and you have the strange feeling that Vander's words will stay in your head for a long time to come.

The Corpse Parts. Magic that you could literally feel in the Academy apartment. The Spinning Weapon of the Enforcers. A secret power in this world. But everything was... connected.

But even when everything takes over your brain, you still think about Vander's statement.

No One Wins in War. War brings pain to everyone, no matter what side you are on. In the end, it doesn't matter if you win, because you still lost a lot to get there. But it's Told by Vander who has only been on the losing side of a war, plus he apparently has a deal with the Enforcers, it doesn't make any sense. No... this phrase refers to human lives, not political power. He's a pacifist, at least I think so.

Also, he doesn't necessarily have to have a deal with them, maybe I'm just thinking too much. But it would still be possible, Vander is definitely the best known from the underworld, it would make sense of all people to make a deal with him.

But after a few minutes of sitting over his statement and thinking about it until you can't do it anymore, you've figured it out.

Nobody wins, but one side loses a lot less.

You get up, rumble to your feet and look around. No one is there, the others are most likely already in the hideout, you should go there too. Before you leave, you take the book with the notes about the Corpse Parts and the Enforcer's gadget. You put on the long black coat you were already wearing when you came here, it was too big for you, but you can easily store both items in the side pocket.

Now make your way to the hiding place with the others.

---

[x-press-it]

Devilish Desires - 4/8

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. This was another hard chapter to edit/rewrite, but I did it ^^ I hope you guys like fighting/sparring scenes ^^" Ok, let's feed that hunger, shall we? ;)

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 4/8

Word Count: 9.9K / 60K+ for now

In the days that followed their meeting in the library, E kept their distance from Logan. They must have been tangled up with all the contract adjustments and whatever else came with their mysterious agenda, or at least that’s what he assumed. Logan couldn’t say he minded their absence; if anything, the tension between his shoulders had finally started to ease, and his routine felt a little less invaded.

He hardly saw them around the mansion. E would appear in passing, usually on their way to Charles’s office or briefly dipping into the library, but they seemed to vanish as quickly as they appeared. They never crossed paths otherwise. Not in the gym, where he’d half-expected to catch them training, nor in the kitchen, where they always managed to get there before him and leave behind only faint traces—a mug in the sink, an empty coffee pot. Even Ororo, who spent most of her time outside tending to the gardens, mentioned she hadn’t seen them lingering around the grounds. And as the days dragged on, Logan felt the empty space they’d left lingering.

A part of him was curious now, his wariness easing as he'd learned more about them. He’d gotten a glimpse of them beneath that composed exterior, enough to see that they weren’t the threat he’d originally thought, maybe even enough to say they weren't so different from each other—if he squinted. Their goals didn’t seem so far from his, and neither did their need for freedom. He found himself wondering, almost against his will, what they were doing when they weren’t working. It didn’t sit right, not knowing.

And soon enough, he realized he’d started keeping an eye out for them. Them, the person who’d been in his face day in and day out for weeks, was now barely a shadow in the mansion’s daily rhythm. It was… odd, and the feeling only grew with each day they didn’t cross paths.

But then, on the fifth day after their meeting, Logan’s curiosity finally got a break when Charles called the team to his office. He could sense something was coming—the air in the room was thick with it. The team gathered, shifting uneasily, the only absentees being the three younger members. Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze as sharp as ever as he watched each person in the room. His eyes kept circling back to E, who stood slightly off to the side, their expression a wall of carefully constructed calm. They didn’t look at him or anyone else, a clear signal they weren’t here to play nice.

Charles cleared his throat, drawing their attention as he settled behind his desk. “I’ve called you all here to discuss an important matter regarding the security of the school.”

Logan’s gaze narrowed, his instincts already piecing together that this had to do with E. Sure enough, Charles’ steady look swept across the team, his voice carrying a calm authority. “It has been decided that E will be training with you all from now on. They won’t be part of the team, but as they work here at the school and have the right to defend it, it’s important for everyone to understand their abilities. In case of an attack, we all need to be on the same page.”

The discomfort in the room was tangible. Everyone shifted, casting skeptical glances at E, who remained silent, almost impassive. Their appearance looked more severe today—dull skin and eyes, their horns lacking their usual shine, and their hair pulled back in a tight bun. They wore mostly black, save for a few touches of dark red, with no jewelry and only the barest hint of makeup. Jean watched them closely, brows furrowing as she tried to read their thoughts, but E’s sharp glare in her direction made it clear that wall wasn’t coming down.

Scott was the first to voice his hesitation, clearing his throat as he looked between Charles and E. “Is that really necessary? We’ve never had any outsiders train with us before.”

Logan couldn’t help the low chuckle that slipped out. “Forgot about me, Summers? I was an outsider once, too.” The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before he cast a quick glance at E. Just as he expected, their attention—once fixed on their perfectly manicured red nails—flickered to his, briefly meeting his gaze before quickly looking away, the moment slipping by as quickly as it had come.

If they weren’t friends, Scott would’ve probably fried him with his visor for that comment, but Charles remained patient as he waited for the room to settle. “E works alongside us here,” he said, voice steady but unyielding. “They have every right to protect the students, just as we do.” His gaze swept over each person, settling on them a moment longer than necessary. “It’s important we trust one another in times of crisis.”

Logan’s gaze drifted back to E. They stood rigid, a subtle tension in their posture that hadn’t been there before. If he was reading them right, they didn’t want to be here any more than the team wanted them here. It wasn’t just distance, it was a quiet wariness, like they were on guard against everyone, Charles being the only exception. Even Jean’s curiosity only earned another glare from E, a silent warning to stay out of their head.

As the murmurs of agreement wrapped up the meeting, Logan lingered, eyes settling on E. He wasn’t wary of them anymore, not exactly, but something about them made him curious. He’d seen a glimpse of who they were under that mask. He wasn’t sure he trusted them yet, but he respected them—at least enough to want to see more of what they were capable of. And there was that other thing, too; he’d noticed it in the faint shadows under their eyes and the worn edges of their aura. Whatever was keeping them going seemed to be running thin.

“Hey,” he called out before they could leave. They turned slowly, an eyebrow raised, the only indication they’d heard him.

“When d’you have time to spar?” he asked, trying to read their reaction.

Their face barely shifted, but he could see a glint of amusement behind their guarded look. “Right now, actually,” they replied, their voice steady and even. “Unless you’re busy.”

Logan pushed off the wall, straightening his posture. “I’ve got time.”

They nodded, excusing themselves to change and, twenty minutes later, they met him at the bottom of the staircase. They were both now dressed in gear more suitable for what lay ahead, and Logan couldn’t help but notice the way their presence had shifted from the last time they spoke—the carefully polished exterior was there, but the energy behind it was dimmed, like they were holding something back. As they stepped outside, Logan led them to a secluded corner of the grounds, far from prying eyes. The shaded glade lay far from the main paths, ensuring no students or teachers would wander by, a quiet space with plenty of room to move freely.

As they reached the clearing, he rolled his shoulders, flexing his arms and testing his range of motion with a low, almost eager hum in his throat. “Alright,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

E’s lips curved into a faint smile, tight at the edges, as they removed their shoes, grounding themselves in the cool grass. Logan studied them, and it seemed like even the glint in their eyes was dimmer than he remembered; they looked tired, worn.

“You sure you’re feelin’ up for this?” he taunted. “Look a little beat.”

At those words, a faint smirk tugged at their lips, a dangerous spark lighting in their eyes—not quite playful, but charged with a hint of anticipation as they settled a few feet from him, their toes curling slightly in the green blades. “Looks can be deceiving,” they stated, their eyes narrowing with a brief, steely flash. “So don’t hold back.”

Logan chuckled, a low growl under his breath . “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They shifted into their stances, circling each other slowly, and Logan took a moment to assess them, noting their balance and posture, looking for signs of fatigue or hesitation. E looked drained, their skin and eyes lacking the usual intensity, their expression guarded but when they lunged forward, it was with a speed and grace that took him off guard. They were light on their feet, with an economy of motion that spoke of years of training. Even so, they lacked their usual edge. He’d felt their agility before—those brief, charged touches when they went after him over the past couple of weeks. But now, with their first steps, he saw a whole new side to them.

As Logan moved in, he blocked their strike, and the force behind it surprised him. They were damn quick, and strong enough to make him realize he couldn’t take this lightly. He dodged a swift kick, aiming a punch in return, but they twisted smoothly out of his reach, moving with a precision that was… stunning.

A flicker of respect—maybe even awe—stirred in him, and he noticed the shift almost immediately. E’s movements, initially strong, suddenly sharpened, a faint glow sparking in their eyes as they draw strength from his reaction. Each impressed thought, every ounce of admiration, pulse under their skin like fuel, strengthening them further.

Their smile widened, feeling the strength coursing through them now, a flash of teeth as they spun around him, arms a flurry of open-palmed strikes and swift fists. Logan blocked most of them, dodging the rest. They weren’t just good—they were damn good. And as his recognition grew, he felt an odd, almost tangible energy radiating off them, a surge that seemed to seep from the esteem they stirred in him.

“Not bad,” he grunted, his breath steady despite the exertion. The thrill of a real challenge was humming through his veins, the kind that made his blood come alive. But he couldn’t ignore that other feeling creeping in, like something slipping just beyond his control, something wild and powerful in E that his respect seemed to unlock.

They closed in again, and as their bodies met, Logan realized just how agile they were. It wasn’t only that they were fast; it was the precision of each movement, the way they slipped around his strikes like water weaving through rock. He found himself pushed harder, each dodge and block requiring his full attention.

Their style was unlike anything he’d seen before: smooth, swift, each movement flowing into the next like a performer weaving between shadows. There was a seamlessness to their steps, an exotic grace laced with foreign influences he couldn’t quite place—Arabic, maybe, or something even older. As they exchanged blow after blow, it felt like choreography, mesmerizing—E’s motions were fluid and graceful, carrying a rhythm and elegance that Logan could respect, even as he fought to keep up. This wasn’t just skill; it was... Art. And the more he admired it, the stronger they became, each spark of his interest feeding into their movements like an unseen force binding them.

Realization struck him like a blow—yes, they were good, but their power was intensifying, fueled by him.

He’d heard of mutants who could channel the emotions of others, drawing strength from positive thoughts like attention and interest. But feeling it now—feeling their strength mirror his thoughts… it was unlike anything he’d experienced.

They were more than a match for him, and his respect for their skill, their grit, surged. The moment that thought crossed his mind, E’s strikes grew even faster, their focus intensifying, and he was almost sure of it now. His every impressed reaction were seeping into them, fueling their intensity.

Their strikes picked up speed, and Logan found himself on the defensive more than he’d anticipated. They were fucking sharp. For every hit he blocked, two more came at him from new angles, as if they were testing him, pushing him to see just how far they could go. And with each strike, with every dodge, their energy grew, their fatigue seemed to melt away. The fire in their eyes reignited, and their form tightened, honed into something intense and unyielding.

He went in close, using his instincts to counter their movements, but with each passing moment, he witnessed how his respect only made them stronger. It was mesmerizing—and unsettling. The bond felt tangible, like an invisible current between them, and it was taking on a life of its own.

Logan ducked under a high kick, his instincts leading the way, and countered with a low sweep that nearly knocked them off-balance. E rolled out of reach, landing on their feet with a fluid twist that made Logan pause, even for just a fraction of a second. The way they moved was intoxicating—a mix of elegance and deadly purpose that sparked something inside him. He couldn’t help it; for a split moment, he was simply watching them, almost spellbound.

But there was no time to linger. E closed the distance with a burst of energy, a flurry of controlled, powerful strikes, fists and open palms, that had Logan moving on impulse alone. Each hit was controlled, precise, but damn, the force behind them kept him on his toes, like they were trying to push him to his limits. And maybe, deep down, he wanted them to. He blocked, deflected, and when he caught their wrist mid-swing, he allowed a small, knowing smirk to flicker across his face. That’s when he saw it—the glint of mischief in their eyes, quick and bold. E twisted out of his grasp with a move so smooth it felt like he’d tried to catch water.

Logan tightened his grip as they shifted, pulling them back to him, but the moment their faces were mere inches apart, time seemed to pause. Their eyes were locked onto his, unflinching and intense. There was something fierce there, a silent challenge that pulled at something deeper inside him, stoking the embers in his guts. It was like they were daring him, testing him not just as an opponent but as someone who understood the fire behind their eyes.

E must have seen the battle between reason and desire flicker in his gaze because they seized the moment, breaking free in a swift motion. Logan let them go, both impressed and curious, wanting to see what they’d do next. They didn’t waste a second, attacking with renewed vigor, moving like a force of nature, their body a seamless weapon of precision and raw determination. Logan could feel the shift—a resolve in them, the power that had been lying dormant now fully awakened. They weren’t holding back anymore, weren’t playing it safe. The series of blows they threw with rapid precision drew him into that primal place where his instincts ruled, and he was forced to meet them there, letting the feral part in him slip closer to the surface. The thrill of it sparked through his veins like wildfire.

“Alright,” he growled under his breath, almost laughing as he absorbed another blow and stepped back, chest heaving. “So you’re not playin’ around.”

Their eyes glimmered, never breaking eye contact, that confident grin tugging at their lips. They let out a breathy laugh, low and challenging. “You finally noticed?” they teased, their voice smooth with the thrill of the fight. There was something almost predatory in the way they held his gaze, the way they readied themselves for the next round. The air between them was tight, charged, every breath a shared battle. They circled each other once more, both panting heavily now, both intent, and Logan shifted his stance, ready for whatever came next.

He braced himself as they lunged, and this time, he met them head-on, gripping their fist mid-swing. The impact sent a shock through them both, a raw electricity that stilled the moment. E didn’t pull back, and neither did he. The space between them buzzed with an unspoken understanding—a recognition of equals, of opponents who respected each other enough to give everything.

Logan’s gaze drifted over their features, taking in the fierce focus, the glint in their eyes that had come alive in the heat of combat. He could feel his own pulse thundering in his chest, the thrill of the challenge, the sheer admiration for their skill. Whoever they were, whatever their story, they were damn impressive.

Their faces stayed close, eyes locked in a dance of silent words and wild, racing thoughts. He realized then, amidst the push and pull, that they weren’t just sparring. They were testing each other, challenging what they thought they knew.

When they finally broke apart, their breath heavy, Logan took in the slight rise and fall of their chest, the gleam of sweat on their neck. He let out a slow, impressed hum. “You weren’t holdin’ back, were ya?” His voice was low, rough with something more than exertion.

“Not my style.” E’s sly smile was full of restrained satisfaction. “But I thought you’d be a little faster, Wolverine,” they taunted, breathing hard, a mischievous edge to their tone.

Logan chuckled, the sound more rumble than laugh. He rolled his shoulders, a smirk playing on his lips as he nodded. “And you’re better than I thought. Maybe I misjudged ya.” The admission came with its own weight, but it felt right. “Wasn’t expectin’ you to get that fired up.”

And there it was again, that pull in the air between them, a flash of mutual acknowledgment that only seemed to heighten E’s energy. It hung in the air like an invisible thread, binding them to something that was no longer just a sparring match.

“Guess you bring out the best in me,” E added, their voice softer now but no less charged as they straightened, wiping a sheen of sweat from their brow.

This fight, this moment, was more than just a test of strength; it felt like a line had been crossed, an unspoken understanding forged in the heat of battle. Logan’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, and for once, he didn’t bother suppressing the feeling. He’d had his fair share of fights, of sparring matches, but this had felt different—charged, almost like a trial, a test that had changed something between them.

He let a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. “Seems like we both do, huh?”

Their gaze glinted, a hint of mischief mixed with something he couldn’t quite place. “Careful,” they said, voice low, “You might actually start liking me.”

He shook his head, though a glint of something warmer shone in his eyes. “Don’t go gettin’ ideas. I still don’t trust ya,” he said, though there was a reluctant admiration in his tone. “But I can’t deny you’ve got skills.”

They both stood there in the quiet clearing, the tension between them heavy and electric. It wasn’t just the fight that left him on edge—it was that undeniable force that surged through them, the energy that seemed to bloom under his attention, his respect.

They held his gaze a moment longer, something unspoken passing between them. And finally, E’s expression softened, the intensity in their eyes dimming as they nodded slightly. “You ever want another round, you know where to find me,” they said before turning on their heels, the tension between them lingering like the echo of a battle not quite over.

As they walked away, carrying their shoes in one hand, Logan felt a strange pull, something magnetic urging him forward, a reflexive need to know more. Before he could think better of it, he called out after them, half-jogging to close the distance. E paused, glancing back with a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in their eyes.

They were checking their phone, frowning at a few missed calls, their thumb hovering over the screen to call back. But before they could hit the button, Logan spoke up, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart. “When d’you reckon we could do this again?”

They looked up, and for a second, there was a gleam of something mischievous in their eyes, a playful spark that was hard to miss. Their lips curved, and that teasing smile tugged at him in a way that caught him off guard. “Oh, can’t get enough of me now, huh, pretty boy?”

Logan felt a tingle in his gut, the playful edge in their voice threw him for a second, that casual nickname landing unexpectedly. They made him feel like he was fifteen again, trying to play it cool in front of someone who seemed way out of his league—a completely new feeling for him. A part of him wanted to fire something back, maybe a quip about how he wasn’t in it for them, but for their skills. But he deflected instead, maintaining his composure. “I want to know more about your style. It’d be good for the team. Could give us an edge, y’know?”

“Good for the team,” E echoed, amusement flashing in their gaze as they cocked their head, weighing him. “If you say so.”

They turned their phone over in their hand, clearly tempted to tease him further, but before they could say anything, he cut them off, “Remember the training sessions Charles mentioned in the meeting? Did he told you about the Danger Room?”

E raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at their lips. “I might have heard of it… but maybe you could tell me a little more?”

Logan nodded, sensing an opportunity. “Well, it’s…let’s just say it’s our own personal, high-stakes training ground. If you want, I can walk you through it sometime.”

E considered him for a moment, their posture straightening as they regained their composure. “Alright. How about we meet back here tonight, after dinner, for some sparring again, and then you can tell me more about this danger room you’re talking about.”

“Tonight, huh?” he said, a hint of a smirk returning. “Yeah, I can make that work.”

“Good,” they murmured, their hand brushing his arm as they stepped past him, a fleeting, electrifying touch that sent a shiver through his skin. It was nothing—a casual touch—but it was enough to spark that strange charge between them again, something he could feel deep in his gut.

“See you tonight, then,” E said with a half-smile, their voice low, almost intimate. They turned, heading back toward the mansion with that damn sway in their step, every move as deliberate as their fighting style, leaving him there, watching and feeling just a bit off-balance. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, tonight, he was in for more than just another spar.

Logan was no stranger to being haunted by his thoughts, and most of the time, it was his past. But this was different—it wasn’t memories lingering in his head, it was someone alive and present, shifting through his thoughts like they had every right to be there. He’d spent the better part of the day moving from task to task, hoping that the routine would get his head on straight. He’d given three history lectures to classes who looked mostly bored out of their minds, walked the mansion perimeter twice, and even joined Hank in the lab for a solid hour before irritation got the best of him.

And still, every damn time he tried to clear his head, they were there. E. A quiet thrill snuck through him at the memory of their last spar, at the way they’d moved with that sharpened focus, picking up on his admiration like they could feel it.

Which they probably could. If his suspicions were right, E could sense admiration the way he could sense a lie—and that alone was a reason to keep his distance. But he hadn’t, not really. He’d leaned into it, watching the way they seemed to glow under his attention. That look in their eyes when they caught his gaze? Couldn’t shake it.

Damn it, it was making him question everything.

You’re not some lovesick puppy, bub, he thought, dragging his hand through his hair, frustrated. Get your head on straight.

E wasn’t his responsibility, not in the usual sense. He wasn’t there to watch over them or protect them. That wasn’t his job. Not that they needed him to, anyway. But the pull they had on him—some strange mix of curiosity and something else—wasn’t something he could easily shake off. He wasn’t sure if it was admiration, attraction, or something more dangerous, but it gnawed at him all the same.

Things never ended well when he got close, especially with someone like them. It was better, safer, to keep his instincts in check.

But still, when he thought about seeing them again, it felt like a twist in his gut, like he was waiting for something he couldn’t name, something primal. It was maddening, intoxicating—a feeling he hated as much as he longed for. And he couldn’t help himself.

His thoughts braught him back to them again, as he remembered the way E’s strikes had picked up speed, their movements sharpening with every surge of his admiration. The memory sent a chill down his spine. His jaw clenched as his mind raced. The urge to spar again—to see how far he could push them, what more they could become—tugged at him. But damn it, he had to remind himself to focus. He was here, not in the damn glade.

“Get ahold of yourself, damn it,” he muttered, hoping the sound of his voice might help break the spell. “You’ve got enough ghosts followin’ you around, don’t go invitin’ another.”

But E wasn’t a ghost. They were sharp, present, and so fucking alive. He didn’t want to admit it, but that made all the difference. This wasn’t some lingering regret or phantom from his past. It was real. And that made everything harder.

It wasn’t just his admiration—it was the way they challenged him, the way they made him feel. That pull, that instinctive response—it was there, simmering under the surface. And maybe that was what scared him the most.

Because even now, he couldn’t decide if it was them or their powers making him feel this way. The pull was real, but was it them? Or just some side effect of them feeding off his admiration?

Damn it. Logan clenched his fists, trying to shake it off. But no matter how much he fought it, E’s presence lingered, just out of reach, but never really gone. They weren’t his responsibility, not really—but hell if his instincts weren’t practically begging to make them his.

Hours dragged on, the sun dipping lower in the sky, but Logan found himself waiting for night to come. Waiting for the next sparring session. His body was wound tight, focus frayed, and he knew damn well it was because of them. No matter how hard he tried to pull himself back, some part of him was already leaning forward, eager to step into that clearing again, to see how much further they could go, how much more they could push each other.

His reason fought to resist, but he honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep fighting it.

Logan settled into his seat in the dining room, but he wasn’t really there. He’d forced himself to join the others for dinner, hoping that the casual chatter would ground him, help shake E from his mind. But as plates clattered and conversations flowed, he found his thoughts still circling back to them—and to the way their strength had fed off his admiration. It gnawed at him, that feeling he’d fueled them somehow, that his respect had made them stronger, sharper. A part of him didn’t want to go down that road, but damn if he wasn’t already obsessing about the next sparring session, counting down the minutes.

He tried to focus on the idle talk around the table, but most of it only seemed to make his hackles rise. People were talking about E—debating whether they’d be joining the team in the future or if this was just a one-off thing. To them, it felt like E was edging their way in, and they didn’t like it. He could see the unease in Bobby’s frown, the way Marie’s gaze flitted to him, clearly feeling out where he stood on all this.

Eventually, the young woman turned to him, her brow raised in question. “So, Logan… what d’you make of her?” she asked, misgendering E without a second thought. “You’ve spent more time with her than the rest of us. ”

His reaction was swift and sharp, his tone a bit harsher than intended. “Them,” he corrected, voice edged. He took a steadying breath, reigning himself back. “They prefer ‘them.’”

Marie and Kitty exchanged a glance at that, a silent conversation that didn’t escape his notice. He forced himself to ignore it, though the sting of irritation remained, mingling with a faint, unexpected defensiveness. He wasn’t the type to stand on ceremony or correct people just to be polite. Still, he wasn’t going to stand by and let them talk about E without a damn bit of respect. But again, why the hell did he feel like he needed to stick up for them?

He tried to keep his tone casual as he shrugged, downplaying it like he didn’t care one way or another. “They’re alright. They’ve helped me out with some legal work, actually. Seems like they know what they’re doing. We sparred too… they’ve got a style that’s different. Pretty sharp. Could be good for you all to pick up some of that.”

The more he spoke, the harder it became to keep the admiration out of his voice. It wasn’t just that they were capable—there was something in the way they moved, the way they fought. Respect had never come easily to him, but with E, it was there, raw and undeniable.

Kitty raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and Logan felt a small spark of irritation as she leaned in. “What’s so special about it?”

He tried to keep it casual but the words flew out of him before he could stop them. “It’s… fast, strong, fluid… almost like watching something crafted. Like art.” Damn it. He hadn’t meant to let so much appreciation slip through, but it was hard to ignore how their moves had lingered in his mind all day.

His comment hung in the air, and he could see the others’ gazes shift toward him, noting how his tone had softened. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, feeling a bit exposed under their scrutiny.

“What’s their power, though?” Bobby asked, curiosity written across his face.

Before Logan could even think of a response, a smooth voice coming from the doorway cut him off. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady about their powers?”

Logan turned, catching sight of E leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over their chest, a teasing smirk on their lips. They looked different than they had after sparring earlier—not as radiant, but still damn good, with that casual confidence that could set anyone on edge. They had changed again, now in some kind of foreign traditional outfit, somehow looking both beautiful and dangerous as their gaze shifted over each face at the table.

Bobby’s cheeks flushed pink at E’s words, and he fumbled for a response, while Marie shot them a half-hearted glare. Logan didn’t miss the slight flicker in E’s expression—a hint of something softer, like a crack in their armor, but it was gone in an instant, too quick for anyone else to catch.

Ororo was the first to break the silence. “What brings you here, E?”

E straightened, sauntering into the room with an air of nonchalance, though their smirk said otherwise, metal chiming on their ankles and wrists. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said, though the smirk made it clear they weren’t sorry at all. “I’m just here for Logan,” they added when reaching him, their hand finding his shoulder and resting there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Logan’s frown deepened at their words and actions—like they owned him, like he’d just been summoned. Something primal flared within him at the look in their eyes, and he fought to keep his own expression in check, unwilling to let that part of himself show.

“We had another sparring session planned,” he explained quickly, shrugging off their hand, his tone a bit too abrupt. He didn’t want them getting any strange ideas about what this was.

E gave a small nod, a glint of mischief in their eyes. “Yes, a sparring session,” they repeated, voice low and almost playful. Their gaze lingered on him for just a beat too long, that glint sending his instincts flaring.

They turned with a casual wave of their hand, bracelets chiming with the motion, before glancing back at him over their shoulder as they sauntered back toward the hallway. “I’ll be outside. Don’t take too long,” they tossed back with a wink, disappearing around the corner.

The room went quiet as E left, the tension hanging thick in the air. Logan forced himself to finish his meal, trying to ignore the eyes on him. He could practically feel the questions lingering unsaid, the looks exchanged behind his back. But he kept his focus on his plate, forcing himself to eat slowly even as impatience thrummed beneath his skin. Finally, he excused himself, heading into the kitchen to put his dishes in the dishwasher before slipping out the back.

When Logan reached the clearing, he found E sitting cross-legged in the grass, the deep black of their tunic blending with the shadows, disturbed only by the dark red sash at their waist. When they shifted, the golden and crimson bracelets at their wrists and ankles chimed softly, each note cutting through the quiet night. Even their hair and makeup, immaculately done, added an edge to their poised, lethal beauty—a sharp contrast to the rawness of their last sparring session.

They looked like they were dressed to perform and, for a few heartbeats, he was mesmerized. They were utterly still, chest rising and falling so slowly that they could almost pass for a statue, something sculpted by a master, with an eye for each curve and line. The moonlight washed over them, casting an ethereal glow that only added to the aura around them, one part mystery, one part raw strength.

They had felt him, of course. He didn’t have to make a sound; the energy rolling off him was enough. A faint, knowing smile blossomed on their red-painted lips, soft at first, then sharper as it settled. Eyes still closed, they spoke, their voice smooth as silk in the quiet night. “I’m glad we’re doing this again, Logan.” They paused, savoring the weight of his gaze. “I couldn’t focus all day. You… lingered.”

Logan felt his pulse kick up a notch, his mind flicking back to his own restless day—the way he’d had to force himself to push through the usual motions, when all he really wanted was to get back here, back to them. He tried to keep his expression steady, giving a small shrug as he stepped closer. “Your style’s… intriguing,” he said, hoping it sounded casual, unaffected. But he knew better, and they did too; the spark of warmth they felt from him seemed to seep into their own energy, feeding them.

They savored it, and now he could tell. He watched as something in them shifted, as if they were becoming more than they had been a moment earlier, like his presence and attention added a new depth to their form. Finally, they opened their golden-hooded eyes, meeting his gaze head-on. The shimmer of the powder accentuated the sharpness of their stare, turning it into something almost regal.

Rising to their feet with the delicate chime of metal, they moved with an effortless grace, stretching in a way that was deliberate, flexing their muscles as though reminding him of what he was about to face. “It’s called kalaripayattu,” E said, their voice steady. “It was my foundation. But… it changed, especially in Turkey.” Their gaze darkened momentarily, a flicker of something painful passing through their expression before it settled into a smirk, masking the past. “Not all evolutions come from the best places.”

Logan's jaw tightened at the admission, a familiar pang settling low in his chest. He’d seen that look before—the one that spoke of scars hidden under skin, memories too heavy to carry yet impossible to drop. The urge to say something, to tell them he understood that kind of burden, nearly surfaced, but he bit it back. This wasn’t the moment for words; they both knew that. Instead, he nodded, letting the unspoken understanding hang between them as he rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he watched them, that low hum of anticipation lighting up in him again.

E grounded themselves, digging their toes into the grass like they did before their last fight, finding their balance in a way that was both practiced and primal. Their stance shifted, flowing into something new—a crouched position, one leg stretched back and the other supporting them low to the ground, arms raised toward the sky, palms pressed together, like a warrior in prayer. The pose was unexpected, striking, and undeniably dangerous.

“You ready for round two, pretty boy?” They smirked, mischief dancing across their face, challenging him in a way that was hard to ignore.

Logan felt his pulse spike at the nickname, an involuntary reaction he stubbornly refused to acknowledge. It got under his skin in a way that was both infuriating and exhilarating, making his chest tighten with something unspoken. He cracked his knuckles, returning their smirk with one of his own. “You think you got it in you to keep up?” His tone was thick with confidence, with that hint of wild pride that only emerged when he faced someone capable of pushing him to his limits.

“Oh, I know I do, sugar.” They let the word roll off their tongue with a teasing lilt, eyes gleaming with challenge.

They shared a look, two rivals who’d found a rare equal, sizing each other up, caught between the thrill of the fight and the satisfaction of knowing that tonight, there was no one else who could possibly match them.

And then, as the tension reached its peak, both held taut in that breathless moment, they launched at each other. Their bodies collided, a clash of motion and control, every inch a dance of precision—not with brute force, but with a dynamic grace, a synergy that felt almost primal. E moved first, sliding low to the ground, almost flowing, their actions fluid and deliberate, bracelets and anklets chiming with every shift. Each touch, each brush of their hand along his arm, shoulder, and side was deceptively soft, like a caress meant to lure rather than harm. But Logan wasn’t fooled. He felt the energy coiled in every motion, understood just how deadly each one could be if they chose it to be. He knew the strength they were capable of. Those strikes—gentle as they were—carried a restrained power, and he sensed it, a whisper of the damage they could inflict if they changed their mind and decided to hurt him.

They circled each other in a rhythm that came as naturally as breathing, bodies weaving in and out, almost as if bound by a magnetic pull. E struck out with an open palm, a grazing motion that skimmed across his ribs, a warning rather than a blow. Logan responded, ducking low and twisting around, countering with a restrained swing that they sidestepped with ease, pivoting on one leg, the other extended gracefully behind them. Their fighting style was a thing of beauty—each move sharp, controlled, yet inherently lethal. It was all in the restraint, the elegance in the way they flowed around him, closing the distance only to slip away, like waves ebbing back from the shore.

The touches, brief as they were, left lingering warmth against his skin, almost delicate in contrast to the fierce intent that lay beneath them. Logan could sense it with every shift in their stance, every breath they took—if E wanted to, they could bring him to his knees. It was a tantalizing threat, one that made his blood sing with the thrill of the fight.

In return, he matched their intensity with his own. He countered with his own practiced moves, his ferocity meeting their grace—rougher, rawer, like fire pushing against wind. He didn’t back down, wasn’t about to let them get too close without a response. He dodged, weaved, barely avoiding some of their strikes, slipping by with mere inches to spare. When they made contact—a calculated strike to his shoulder—he could feel the charged intent behind it, even as they held back, making him stagger back just enough to shake it off, smirking, before charging in again. They danced around him, a perfect, untamed rhythm building between them, and he found himself moving faster, sharper, like every step forward fueled the energy between them, both testing the other without any intent to truly harm. He could feel it in the air between them—something feral, almost like a mating ritual, the way their movements mirrored, challenged, and matched.

They struck again, this time low, forcing him to leap back and adjust, his grin widening with every movement. It was as if they were bound not by competition but by an unspoken connection—a bond that thrived on the intensity, the way they pushed each other without ever holding back. They were not opponents, nor allies in the typical sense. There was no give, no yield. Neither wanted to win or lose. They just wanted to keep moving, to stay in that almost sacred moment, as if time could stretch itself around them, infinite, like two forces swirling endlessly into one another, an ouroboros that neither began nor ended.

E’s presence seemed to shift, to pulse with each strike and dodge, a captivating intensity building under the lights as if drawing energy from the exhilaration in Logan’s gaze. The more he felt—admiration, awe, the raw thrill of the dance—the more vivid they seemed, their form almost transcending reality in the moonlight. Their eyes gleamed with pure, unfiltered joy, and he saw it, saw the way they thrived under his gaze, every ounce of respect and challenge he sent their way amplifying their allure, making them seem more vivid with each passing second. They absorbed his fire, his strength, and reflected it back, their entire being moving with an entrancing grace that felt more alive than the world around them, their movements turning quicker, sharper, a need to show him more, to perform for him, to be seen. It was like they wanted him to witness the full extent of who they were, to understand how much he fueled them, empowered them.

And still, they did not relent. They wove through their attacks with such artful grace, arms sweeping in wide, lethal arcs that never quite struck him, but came close enough to make his heart race. Logan could feel the tension build in every swipe and brush of their hands, a coil wound tight within him, a primal urge to keep going, to fight like this until the stars themselves faded from the sky.

In a final sweep, they pivoted and leapt into the air, their body twisting mid-flight as they spun over his head, landing with barely a sound, crouched low, their gaze burning as they looked up at him, alive with energy, skin aglow. They seemed transformed, radiating something almost otherworldly, as if their exchange had unlocked something deep within them.

They rose slowly, never breaking eye contact, a faint smirk tugging at the edges of their lips, and Logan felt a surge of awe and something deeper, something inexplicable. This hadn’t just been a fight—it was communion, the give-and-take of two forces that could spend eternity bound in this endless, exhilarating cycle. In that timeless, breathless exchange, Logan felt the truth of it. He’d found someone who matched him, who fed off the same fire, who thrived under the heat of his gaze just as he could under theirs. And as he steadied himself, breath ragged, he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want this moment to end.

But then, unexpectedly, E burst out laughing—an honest, unrestrained, melodic laugh that broke free as if from a place long hidden. They threw their head back toward the sky, eyes closed, arms open, an untamed joy that caught Logan completely off-guard. That sound—it wasn’t mocking, nor was it triumphant. It was raw, genuine happiness and it sent a ripple through him, something deep and visceral. His chest tightened at the sight, at the way E’s expression softened for just a breath, letting the mask slip enough to reveal the humanity underneath all that skill and bravado.

It lasted only a few heartbeats, but in that space, Logan felt a shift. The air between them crackled differently, heavier, as if the laughter had broken down an invisible barrier neither had admitted was there. E’s eyes met his, searching, almost daring him to react, to see beyond the sparring and the guarded quips. For once, there was no battle in their gaze, only an invitation.

Logan’s eyes lingered on them as he tried to steady his breathing. A slow grin creeped across his lips, a rare thing that made the edges of his face soften, the soft, unguarded joy in E’s laugh still echoing in his mind. “Enjoying yourself, huh?” he said, voice rougher than he intended, a mix of exertion and something deeper. He’d seen them as fierce, elusive, hidden behind layers that only cracked in quick, playful smirks. But tonight, they’d shown him something true, almost sacred, and he couldn’t look away .

E’s smile didn’t fade as they stepped closer, their chest rising and falling in time with their breaths. “More than you know,” they replied, voice low and charged, carrying a promise unspoken yet understood. They stood close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from their skin, the space between them almost humming with potential.

Logan’s gaze couldn't leave them, their bare sincerity, their easy grace, the way they stood under the stars as though they belonged there more than any place he’d ever seen. For once, he was stripped of any clever response, any guard. He didn’t look away, either, though something in him warned he probably should. He could feel it—how much more they seemed to want to show him. How much closer he wanted to be.

They could feel the fire burning in his gut, feeding their hunger in a way that made the ache to stoke it grow stronger. Under his curious eyes, they began moving in slow, hypnotic turns, delicate and precise, metallic chimes echoing from their wrists and ankles. They were dancing—an ancient and untamed choreography, meant only for the night air, the moon, the stars, and him. Logan could almost feel the pulse of their energy in his bones, awakening that place deep inside him that almost never stirred, except in moments like this—moments fleeting and rare. His reason urged him to keep his guard up, but his defenses were slipping, worn down by the rhythm of their dance and the raw humanity of their movements. He found himself stilling, breathing slow, caught in the silent music only they could hear.

Then, they stopped, releasing a deep, contented sigh, like someone freed after being bound for far too long. They looked at him, an unfiltered calm in their gaze, and the sight of it drew something close to an ache in him.

“Thank you, Logan,” they said, their voice holding a warmth he rarely heard from anyone.

He gave a short nod, gruff as always, but inside, her words struck him with a strange weight. “Didn’t do much,” he muttered quietly, shrugging it off.

“Oh, but you did.” E’s lips curved up, but there was no teasing, no facade, only quiet gratitude. They extended their hands, twisting their fingers and wrists slowly in delicate, almost playful movements, while their bracelets chimed softly against their skin, as though savoring the freedom, the lightness they’d reclaimed. “Since you gifted me peace, tonight, I’m gonna give you a gift of my own,” they whispered, stepping forward. They reached out, their fingers brushing his forearm, a casual touch that set his nerves on fire. "You’re leaving yourself open here," they murmured, their skin grazing his, their voice close enough to send a shiver down his spine.

A current shot through him, sharp and electric, but he rolled his shoulders, masking his reaction behind a rough mutter. “Ain’t used to sparrin’ against dancers.”

“You’ll learn,” they replied, their smirk tugging back into place, the hint of that earlier mischief glinting in their gaze again.

For a moment, they both fell silent, the night air cooling around them. E’s eyes shifted upward, to the expanse of stars overhead, and Logan felt the pull too. The sky was scattered with pinpricks of light, stretching endlessly into the dark. It reminded him of how vast everything was, how small he was within it, how his years—his long, battle-hardened years—were just a blink in the vastness above. And yet here, with them, under this open sky, he felt strangely anchored.

Beside him, E’s voice softened, thoughtful. “You ever feel like you don’t belong anywhere?”

Their words hit him, catching him off guard, reaching into places he usually kept sealed. It gnawed at him, the way they stood there looking like a piece of the sky had touched down, that soft glow in their eyes, one of peace, of gratitude, maybe even of kinship. There were few people who’d ever asked him something like that, fewer still who might actually understand the answer.

“More often than you’d think,” he muttered, the words escaping before he could second-guess them. He kept his eyes trained on the stars, the expansive sky above, as if it could ease the ache that always lingered somewhere in his chest. “Don’t matter where I go, or who I’m with—there’s always this… hole. Even when I’ve got a good thing goin’ on.”

They stayed quiet, listening, and somehow that silence gave him the space to keep talking.

“I got a family here, I know that. Hell, got more people than I ever thought I’d get who actually care if I stick around or not,” he said, his voice gruff, but his words open. “But sometimes… feels like I’m just borrowin’ time. Waitin’ till somethin’ pulls me back out there.” He motioned vaguely to the woods, to the wild that always seemed to call his name when he lingered too long within four walls.

E shifted, their eyes softening, and that glow in them brightened almost imperceptibly, as if his words, raw as they were, had stirred something in them. They looked at him in a way that felt like understanding, a wordless acceptance of the parts he rarely let anyone see. He felt his pulse stir again, just under his skin, something vulnerable and hungry for connection clawing its way out.

“Maybe you’re meant to belong somewhere that’s not on a map, you know?” They tilted their head thoughtfully, a gentle shrug in their shoulders. “I know that sounds… vague, but some of us are a little too wild, even for this world. Doesn’t mean you’re without a place, Logan. Maybe it’s just somewhere different.”

Logan let the words sink in, feeling the honesty in them settle like warmth into his chest. He wasn’t used to anyone framing it like that. Usually, the mansion’s residents treated his absences like quirks, a fact of his nature, but it was different with E. They seemed to see through his wanderlust, to recognize something in it that went deeper than just the need to roam.

“Hell, maybe,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shrug off the sudden vulnerability that gripped him. “Dunno if anyone ever told me it was all right to be that way.”

“Guess I just did,” they said, that teasing gleam returning, but softer this time. “Wherever you belong, Logan… you’re welcome in my orbit.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What happened to ‘I don’t need anyone, especially not you’?” His voice was rough, but there was an unmistakable spark of curiosity in his eyes.

E’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness tightening their features before they smoothed it out. “I don’t need anyone,” they repeated, but the words held a different tone now—less sharp, more open. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t offer a place to someone who needs it… if they want it.”

The words hung between them, suspended in the night air. Logan felt himself drawn to them again, a subtle battle between reason and instinct churning inside him once more. The reasonable part of him couldn’t fathom giving in to that unspoken need, but another part of him, primal, wanted to reach out, to take up their offer without a second thought. So against his better judgment, he let himself step closer, studying the way they seemed to radiate with a quiet strength, a calm that fed into his own unrest in a way he couldn’t quite grasp.

E met his gaze, eyes steady and searching. “Who knows, maybe it could calm the need to wander for a time.”

A flicker of something softened Logan’s expression as he watched them, the words settling deep. “Not a lotta people see me,” he admitted, his voice gruff but his gaze locked onto theirs. “Not like this.”

E smiled, soft but sure. “Maybe because most people aren’t looking in the right places.”

They reached out, their hand brushing his forearm lightly once again, this time lingering—grounding him as much as it startled him. The tension between them was palpable, gnawing at his insides, at that hollow void that filled him. It felt like their connection was solidifying, and it was dangerous. It made his pulse race, his mind screaming at him to pull back, even as every fiber of him longed to stay close. He felt the warmth of their fingers as they pulled away, leaving a faint tingle in their wake. And suddenly, he wanted to know more about them—where they came from, what scars they hid beneath their words and allure, where they honed their fighting skills, what their true power was. So many questions burned on his lips, but he settled for something less intrusive instead.

“What about you… you ever stick around long enough to feel like you could belong somewhere?” he asked, voice low. He didn’t know where the question came from, only that it was out there now, drawn out by a need to connect, another piece of himself he rarely showed.

E paused, searching his eyes. “Once, maybe,” they murmured, and for a moment, a flicker of something deeply personal passed over their face. “But not for a long time.”

The weight of their words hung between them. They shifted again, the lingering sorrow barely visible before it was replaced by their usual confidence. But Logan caught it, the faint sadness, the echo of a familiar ache that mirrored his own. For just a heartbeat, they weren’t his rival, his partner in combat—they were something else, something fragile and human, someone who understood, and it awakened his protective instincts, making his claws itch under his skin.

“Guess we both got a little lost along the way,” he said softly.

They nodded, still holding his gaze, that warm glow growing just a touch brighter. “Then maybe we don’t need a map tonight. Just… a moment to be here.” Their eyes softened, catching his, and the way they looked at him, as if he was the only other soul in the universe, chipped away at some wall he hadn’t even known was still there.

Logan managed a rough smile, a smirk that barely covered the pull he felt toward them. “Guess I could live with that.”

E’s smile spread, almost in relief, as the two of them stood there—not fighters, not strangers, but two people sharing the same quiet space under the stars, filling the empty places between them, if only for a little while. Before he could stop himself, his thumb found its way to their cheek. The pull between them felt almost tangible, a lifeline connecting two drifting souls lost in the unending current of life.

Their face relaxed instantly under his touch, their eyes closing as a deep sigh escaped their lungs. They sensed his desire before he even realized what he was about to do. The world around them seemed to fade, the rustle of leaves and distant hum of crickets dissolving into the quiet thrum of their hearts. He leaned in, his lips so close they could feel the warmth of his breath, the space between them charged with anticipation.

And then they felt it—a subtle, almost magnetic pull as the energy began to flow, unbidden, from him to them. It was faint, like the first tremor of a storm. Panic flickered behind their eyes as they opened, the realization sharp and immediate. With a graceful tilt of their head, E shifted just enough for his lips to brush their cheek instead, the warmth there a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

Logan froze for a moment, surprise flickering across his expression before he blinked, as if shaking off a spell broken by the soft press of his lips against their cheek. He pulled back, eyes searching theirs for answers, confusion and something deeper swirling in their depths. The space between them thickened, heavy with the unspoken.

“I—” E’s voice wavered, a soft, apologetic smile tugging at their lips as their fingers drifted to the necklace at their throat, the cool pearl grounding them. “It’s late,” they said, each word layered with unexpressed longing.

Logan’s brows knit together, confusion still etched across his face as he took in their expression, the unguarded look that spoke of things they couldn’t voice. E took a long, steady look at him, memorizing the rough kindness in his eyes and the silent question he wouldn’t push. The pull between them ached with what they had to refuse.

With a deep breath, E took a step back. “Goodnight, Logan.”

The silence lingered as he watched them walk away, their silhouette fading into the night. Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted—something deeper than he’d anticipated. And for the first time since they’d met, he wondered just how much control he truly had over the pull that tethered him to them, an unknown force that defied the walls he’d spent a lifetime building.

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

[motomam1]

MOTOMAMI | valeria's friends

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author's note: this was the bane of my existence (hence why it took so long to post). summing up is not necessarily my strength.

― THE LA FRIEND GROUP

name: benito velasquez date of birth: june 26th, 1998 place of birth: east la, california occupation: pr manager friends since: childhood

Benito didn’t know who I was for the first few years of his childhood. Granted, I didn’t know about him either. It’s funny, really, how we grew up around the same neighbourhood surrounded by the same people and yet neither of us was aware of the other despite our similar age. He’d often hang out at Tía María’s place, more so than he did at his own home, right across the street where I lived. Tía María was a widowed woman who suffered the loss of her husband just recently at that time. She was happy to spoil the children around the neighbourhood since she couldn’t get any of her own. She was everyone’s aunty, parents oftentimes sending their children over to hers whenever it suited them. That’s how I met Benny before I started karting. My dad was occupied in his mechanics shop a lot, hence why I spent most of my time after school hanging out at Tía María’s place as well.

He was a genius when it came to everything social media. I never understood why he was so obsessed with Keeping up with the Kardashians, Britney Spears’ mental breakdown in 2007 and the downfall of Lindsay Lohan. I figured it was his thing just like my thing was racing. However, it wasn’t just a phase for him like many had said. He easily saw through various PR moves and could detect what’s true and what’s fake to deceive the public eye. Sometimes he’d tell me how he’d handle the different scandals if he was their PR manager. I admired him for his vast knowledge.

When I got discovered by Toto Wolff and sent off to further prove myself on the European Circuit, Benny was right behind me to discuss my media presence. It was funny at the beginning how easy it came to him to manage my social media accounts with me together, forming an image of me we both agreed on. I wanted to be as transparent as I was allowed to and he made sure to do exactly that. It didn’t take long for him to become my official PR manager.

name: tyler gregory okonma date of birth: march 6th, 1991 place of birth: hawthorne, california occupation: musician friends since: 2014/2015

Tyler was one of the funniest aspects of my teenagehood. It was during the Vine phase in 2014 when he’d often hang around my neighbourhood, collecting footage for his growing fanbase. I don’t remember exactly how we got to meet, it was more one of those friendships that developed over time by seeing each other often on the streets. He was one of the biggest jokers I had ever met, always making Benny and me laugh about the stupidest stuff. Tyler quickly became like a brother to me, one I had never had since I was an only child. Thankfully, my dad loved Tyler’s annoying ass as well. He’d always joke how Tyler was a lot to handle, but deep down you knew he was fond of the boy because he’d still custom design different parts for Tyler’s car collection.

Tyler would often drive me to my karting tournaments whenever dad didn’t have the time. He was one of my biggest supporters, yelling so loud from the sidelines I could hear his screams over the motor sounds and right through my thick helmet. Since I didn’t have a mom, Tyler acted like a mom on the track. Tyler can be saying the most out of pocket shit to embarrass me when I'm on the podium saying ‘SMILE FOR THE CAMERA HONEY’ but I appreciated him taking his time to come see me despite him gradually gaining more and more fame through his music. 

Tyler would still visit me often in Europe when I started to drive in Formula. I didn’t really fit into the crowd in Europe, so whenever he went overseas he’d make sure to stop by in Brackley. And let me tell you, when Toto first met Tyler he knew he would have this recurring headache for as long as I’m in Mercedes.

name: kali uchis date of birth: july 17, 1994 place of birth: alexandria, virginia occupation: musician friends since: 2018

Kali was the first female friend I had ever had. 

Of course I knew about her music before I met her in person. When I joined Tyler in the studio (he had to pick me up from the karting track beforehand), Kali and I instantly clicked. She was the sweetest soul I had ever met, immediately inviting me to join her in the booth, goofing around with Tyler, who loved to act all sassy with us girls. I wasn’t really musically talented, but it was exciting nevertheless to see the process and thoughts behind creating music.

She became somewhat like an older sister, one I could tell all my girl problems and share girly interests with. Call us chismosas if you want, but when things had gone down in our social circles it was like someone had died, it had to be spilled.

Kali was a graceful woman, one I looked up to a lot. She was confident, always dressed in designer clothes from head to toe and walked with such elegance. She was one of those people that immediately got everyone’s attention when entering a room.

Our bond went beyond friendship; it was a sisterhood, a connection that felt like fate had brought us together. Kali Uchis, my partner in crime and fashion, my confidante, and the ultimate queen of slay.

― THE UK FRIEND GROUP

name: andres felipé barrientos / yung filly date of birth: august 6, 1995 place of birth: cali, colombia occupation: youtuber friends since: 2022

I remember the exact moment where I met Filly for the first time. It was in Abu Dhabi 2022, the last race of my final season in Formula 2. I was close to winning the Formula 2 championship, only one more race to go to secure the title. I had distanced myself from my team to collect my thoughts beforehand, trying to get into the zone, when suddenly a voice came up behind me. 

I didn’t know who he was at that moment, I just remembered him sitting down next to me. ¿Oye hablas español? He randomly asked me. That is such a weird question to ask a stranger. I laughed out loud. Not going to lie, Filly can spot a latino from a mile away, which explains why he just sat right next to me like he just spawned into a game while I was having a midlife crisis . Apparently, Filly also didn’t know who I was when first meeting me. But he did a really good job to calm my nerves when noticing how nervous I was, giving me a pep talk after realising I was a driver and what situation I found myself in. To this day I like to joke around that without his pep talk I would’ve only driven half as good.

At the afterparty, I went to search for him in order to thank him for his encouraging words. We clicked instantly when celebrating my win and exchanged numbers to keep in touch furthermore. He’s probably my best friend in England.

name: nella rose date of birth: july 20, 1997 place of birth: belgium occupation: youtuber friends since: 2022

It was at a video shoot when Filly introduced me to Miss Nella Rose. Filly had this knack for bringing people together. Now, Nella, is a genuine human in a world of filters and facades, someone you could be completely real with. In a place where everyone's putting on a show, Nella stood out.

I am lucky to have crossed paths with someone so real, someone who made the crazy F1 world feel a little less daunting. She had this magnetic vibe, you know? Not the flashy, showy kind, but the kind that makes you feel like you're talking to an old friend. We clicked instantly, not in a romantic way, but in a 'I’ve-found-my-ride-or-die-friend' way. 

It wasn't about the glitz and glam of the F1 world or the YouTube fame – it was about two souls connecting, sharing stories, and laughing like there was no tomorrow.

name: amin mohamed / chunkz date of birth: february, 21 1996 place of birth: london, uk occupation: youtuber friends since: 2022

I met Chunkz the same day I met Nella, courtesy of Filly. He was, like the rest of them, so welcoming and incredibly funny. In a world where everyone's trying to one-up each other, his authenticity was a breath of fresh air.

We hit it off immediately, like, we both have this weird obsession with 90s sitcoms level of connection (Fresh Prince of Bel-Air I might add). His laugh, oh my days, it's contagious. We bonded over memes, terrible dance moves, and, of course, our shared love for fast cars. He was more like a 'this dude is my spirit animal' vibe.

So, yeah, meeting Chunkz that day was like gaining a new teammate, someone who made the F1 circuit feel like a family. In the whirlwind of F1 circuits and YouTube fame, he was that unexpected dose of hilarity that made the day memorable. Chunkz, Nella Rose, and me, all meeting on the same day? That's the kind of plot twist you'd expect in a Netflix teen drama, but hey, it happened. 

Life is weird, and sometimes, it's the unexpected friendships that make it hilariously awesome.

name: rúben dos santos gato alves dias date of birth: may 14, 1997 place of birth: amadora, portugal occupation: football player friends since: 2022

The first time I met Rúben, I punched him in the face. Alright, it wasn’t intentional and just a stupid mistake of mine, but thinking about it back now, it’s a pretty funny way to start a friendship.

It was after the Monaco Grand Prix in 2022, so the festivities were quite big and extravagant. However, I was just exhausted up and foremost. Monaco is a great track, but your concentration needs to be at 150% all the time if you want to make it to the end.

So, naturally, I fell asleep on a chair in a more quiet area of the venue where the afterparty took place. Rúben passed me by, noticed me and became concerned for me. He didn’t know whether I passed out from drinking or not, shaking me to see if I was fine. Are you alright? Should I call someone? Should I drive you home? Startled by this unknown stranger waking me up, I punched him in the face when I came to my senses all disoriented. I felt really bad, and so did he. I think we apologised to each other about a dozen times, going back and forth.

As an apology, I invited him for lunch the next time I was in England. We talked a lot about similar interests, about both of our busy schedules and the fast life of being an athlete. He said he’d invite me to one of his games since he saw me racing but I’ve never seen him play. To be honest, football wasn’t something I was very familiar with, so Rúben was keen on explaining the sport to me. 

I knew I had found a new friend in him when I laughed so much with him I nearly lost consciousness from the lack of breathing.

― THE FORMULA FRIEND GROUP

name: lewis hamilton date of birth: january 7, 1957 place of birth: stevenage, uk occupation: formula one driver friends since: 2020

When Toto came up to me and made me join the Mercedes Junior Team, my hopes of seeing Lewis Hamilton rose drastically. He was, and is, one of the biggest names in Motorsport and an idol to many younglings in the sport, me included. 

I didn’t meet him the first year of staying at Brackley. I was still getting used to adjusting to England, its culture and operating the simulator. Our first unofficial meeting happened in the simulator. I was driving, humming All Eyes On Me by 2Pac when someone behind me said ‘You could’ve taken that turn a little sharper on the apex.’ I didn’t know it was him at the time, too startled by the sudden comment to realise who it came from. His presence made me crash into the barriers. 

So when I actually saw him visit the facility in Brackley for the first time, I nearly suffered a heart attack. Toto introduced us, laughing at me when I started to stutter in front of Lewis. I remember my cheeks burning out of embarrassment and hands shaking out of nervosity. I was that nervous I had started speaking in an English accent, that’s when I had to shut up. I think my brain actually stopped working for a second when Lewis said he’d know of me and seen some of my races. 

When he became my teammate in the 2023 season, I was beyond the moon excited to work with such an icon. The things I’ve learned and am still learning from him made me grow incredibly as a driver. He’s like a mentor to me, continuing to teach me new things with such enthusiasm, he really keeps me motivated and focused.

name: logan sargeant date of birth: december 31, 2000 place of birth: fort lauderdale, florida occupation: formula one driver friends since: 2019

Oh, Logan Sargeant, where do I even begin with this guy? We go way back, back to the Formula 3 days when we were tearing up the tracks alongside Felipe Drugovich. Logan and I clicked faster than Wi-Fi in a room full of tech geeks. We're both from the States, different coasts but same vibe, you know? We practically dragged Felipe into our adventures everywhere we went.

Even though our ways as teammates parted after one season, we stayed tight. We spent a lot of time together outside of the paddock. Whether it was eating out or visiting the other over summer and winter break in the US:  Burgers, beach trips, and a lot of dad jokes (thanks to my old man’s enthusiasm for Logan) – our friendship just kept growing. And guess what? Destiny had more mischief in store for us. From late-night strategy talks to spontaneously exploring new cities, we’ve turned every race weekend into an adventure. My father grew quite fond of Logan, Logan’s enthusiasm for the US matching my dad’s enthusiasm for Mexico. 

Fast forward to Formula 1, and bam, we're rookie teammates again, this time with Oscar Piastri thrown into the chaos, he had no other choice but to tag along with us. Forming the ‘2023 Rookies’ group, we were hellbend to become even more iconic than the 2019 rookies. It's like we're on a mission to turn the F1 grid into our playground and so far, dare I say we’re doing a good job at it? Fuck yeah. We’re hell-bent on making our mark, not just on the tracks but in the F1 history books.

name: oscar piastri date of birth: april 21, 2001 place of birth: melbourne, australia occupation: formula one driver friends since: 2020

Ah, Oscar Piastri, my first F2 teammate in 2021. We'd already crossed paths in Formula 3, but back then, he was about as outgoing as a hermit crab. Fast forward a year, and fate decided we should be on the same team. I mean, talk about a plot twist, right? So, here's this dude, quiet as a library on a Sunday morning, and suddenly, we're sharing the same garage.

The first time we actually talked to each other was after our first race of the season. We sat in two ice baths next to each other when he made the first move and quietly tried to start a conversation. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t even realise he was talking to me. It took him a second try to catch my attention, and then it was like he had opened Pandora's box: I would not shut up for one second after we really got into conversation. I was telling him all the gossip from back home, all the shit that annoyed me, literally everything because he was willing to listen to me rant away. 

Oscar Piastri, the man of few words but here for the vibes, became more than a teammate – he became that friend who’d silently judge my questionable music choices and then secretly listen to the same music when he thought no one was watching. It's funny how the quiet ones always surprise you the most, right. That became our dynamic: Me talking his ear off and him listening like his life depended on it. Sometimes I would feel bad for saying so much, but Oscar seemed to be actually interested in hearing about my issues and thoughts.   When entering Formula 1 together with Logan, we obviously stuck together a lot as the new rookies. We became the 2023 rookies, the gen Z version of the 2019 rookies. Logan and I were the loud ones, the ones adopting our introverted friend and dragging him with us everywhere. So here's to Oscar, the Aussie from down under for making racing not just about speed, but also about laughter and unexpected friendship.

name: andrea kimi antonelli date of birth: august 25, 2006 place of birth: bologna, italy occupation: motor racing driver friends since: 2019

Becoming part of the Mercedes Junior Team in 2018 and moving from East LA to Brackley, I knew what it felt like to leave your life behind and start anew in a different country. When I first noticed Kimi appearing at the facilities a year later, I immediately felt my heart ache for him. He was new, still somewhat shy and kept to himself a lot. Remembering the same situation I found myself in a year prior, I made it my mission to help him get accustomed to his new surroundings. So I found the only solution possible, I adopted him as my Formula son. 

We grew close relatively fast, him loving to annoy the shit out of me and use me as an ATM machine whenever we went out together. I loved spoiling him from time to time, treating him like the little hermano he is to me. 

And like the big sister I am, obviously I visited him at his races as much as I could. Vice versa, he’d come to a few of mine as well. I always invited him as my guest, but little Kimi was too shy to meet the senior team and the older grid. I would literally have to drag him to socialise a bit more, reassuring him that none of them would bite him. He’s literally part of the team as well, so why was he acting all shy.

2022 was a big year for both of us, one I like to think back to. With me racing my way up the F2 drivers standings, Kimi was doing the same in F4. Both of us ended up winning the championships simultaneously, I had never been more proud of my little padawan.

tag list: @tpwkstiles @dessxoxsworld @lorarri @elliegrey2803 @inejghafawifesblog @daaiissyyyyy @viennakarma @cha-hot ➫ comment or leave a message in my inbox if you'd like to be added

[hello-there33]

Introduction :)

Okay so this is my backup account and idk what ill do if both get t-worded. I'll probably just cry.

I'm not comfortable sharing my name so u can call me whatever you'd like, or just Lewis.

I like art, music and reading but I dont read a lot rn.

I'm mostly just gonna vent on here and I'll c3ns0re quite a lot because I'm scared of getting caught by tumblrs guards.

Also I might talk about 4n4 but I dont promote it. Neither do I promote any mental 1llness or $h method. It's just my expirience.

Pls bl0ck me, dont r3p0rt me. This is the space I can outlet my emotions.

Uh I'm not sure but I think I can receive messages on this account as well as answer them. If u want u can always dm me as long as you dont want fotos. And umm if I tell u my age per message pls keep it a secret, I dont want people on here to know.

Thank u if u read all this, stay safe and know u r loved. ^^

Uhh idk if I should state my original account but uh yea. :')

[kelzebub]

3, 2, 1, go favorite ZR missions and moments from the first two seasons or the 5k training prequel

Well, I'm sick and avoiding my family (so I don't spread germs... and because I honestly have no energy for them right now lol) so I'm finally getting to this.

My favorite ZR missions from way back in s1 and 2? Man, everyone's favorite is obviously A Voice in the Dark and I'm not immune to it. I love it too. But another that really sticks with me is s1m15, Virtuous Circle. On the surface it's silly: oh sure, let's risk Runner Five's life for a dumb game she's not even interested in playing, that doesn't even really matter when survival is at stake.

Turns out, Runner Five had a lot to learn. And by Runner Five, of course, I mean me.

When you're young, you think that people in their 30s and 40s are old, and that we either have everything figured out, or that we know nothing. Neither of those are true (unless you're talking about Knowing in the Socratic sense) - we're actually always learning, always growing, and always able to be influenced if we allow ourselves. And this app has taught me some things even at my advanced age, so bear with my ancient crone ramblings here, especially since I'm sick and fuzzy-headed.

First off, fun is important. Sam and Maxine talk about morale, but they're really onto something. We really do need fun to thrive. We need art, music, games, dancing, stories, whatever, in order to feel human and enjoy life. It looks a little different for everyone. Maybe your idea of fun is meticulously lining up columns of numbers on an Excel spreadsheet, maybe it's wild parties full of drugs and sex that go on all night, or one of millions of other things people do - but it really matters that you have something you enjoy in life. In short, without fun, we get sick, both mentally and physically.

Secondly, We don't just need it as individuals. We need it collectively. Humans need bonding not just over the bad times - not just taking care of each other when we're sick or working together to survive - but good times too. Otherwise social dynamics get messed up. There's cliques and squabbles and gossip and all kinds of bad feelings, and groups fall apart, even erupt into violence in some cases, but generally it's just like... have you ever had a job where nobody has a sense humor? Or have you had a teacher, as a little kid, who never let the class have time to play?

Third, and this is a me thing, I spent years unpacking this internalized sort of shame that comes from being a geeky person with geeky interests. I got picked on relentlessly in school, it was really horrendous, probably because I was an undiagnosed neurodivergent girl whose family lived in poverty to boot, but I had this shame and embarrassment attached to some of my geekier interests for so, so long. This app had a medical doctor expressing interest in a tabletop RPG, and making it like this thing that everyone was into - it's mainstream in Abel - and I realized, that's real life. I'm an adult now and have been for years. I can like whatever I want and it's not even weird, and if it is weird, nobody cares. In fact, being open about my interests has helped me find out who shares them - not like when I was a kid going on a forum where the only common interest was that one thing, but with people I knew and liked already in real life, going "omg, me too!"

It was the final piece of the puzzle I needed after years of working on unraveling that sense of shame, even with geeky friends IRL and a successful career and kids. Now? I absolutely rock my Doctor Who scarf that I knit myself, I sometimes play D&D with my husband and kids, and most importantly - tying all of the above together - I realized that I had to prioritize fun and enjoyment in my own life and my family's lives. So I did, and it's made a real difference for all of us.

I was in therapy at the same time I started playing ZR, so it's not like I'm giving the app all the credit! My therapist and I worked hard too. But this episode, man, it really had a lot packed into it. I thought about the concept of a virtuous circle a lot, discussed it with my therapist, and tried to embrace the philosophy - and I'm better off for it.

And I just sort of realized that today. So, thank you for asking. And for reading, if you've made it this far.

[districtunrest]

What's your headcanon for Katniss and Peeta's children?

How old was Katniss when give birth to their daughter?

How many years apart between them in age?

Your headcanon for their name?

Who gets the singing and art skill from their parent?

Bonus question : please give recs of your fav everlark post-Mockingjay fanfic.

Thank you :)

@curiousthg

I'll be honest, I rely a lot on other people's fic to fill in what I think about Katniss and Peeta's kids. I trust that they are loved by their parents, and that they both know this in the thoughtless way any safe and secure child does, and that their family is an overall happy one, despite its past pain and ghosts.

Katniss says it took 15 years for her and Peeta to have children*. assuming the timeline starts at "so after," where they're like 19 (I give them a year after Peeta gets back), she gets pregnant with her daughter at 34.

headcanon their names as Willow and Fletcher but I'm not super attached to them. they're 5 years apart - Willow is 6 and Fletcher 1-ish at the time of the epilogue. they're both winter babies, conceived in the spring. summers are hard for KP mentally and so I don't think they'd try to conceive then, just to have spring babies for the 'rebirth' of it all. I really like the idea that Katniss is pregnant with a third by then but it's not necessary; it's important that she and Peeta have at least a girl and a boy, to symbolize their having 2 tributes that will never be taken.

neither child is the spitting image of either parent. they're obviously a mix of Seam and merchant coloring, with the girl having blue eyes & dark hair and the boy having gray eyes & blond hair. thanks to The Grandmentor, I imagine their daughter as fair ("moon baby!") and their son more olive-skinned. I see both of them taking to art and music in a mix of ways: their daughter likes to dance and sing and paint; their son likes to play the guitar and write lyrics and sketch. they both know how to bake and hunt; their son prefers to bake bread, garden, can foods, and bow hunt whereas their daughter prefers to bake pastries, forage, trap, and smoke meat.

as for toastbaby fic recs, there's The Grandmentor, as you can tell lol, as well as give you my wild by @jenniferiawrence and Here is the place! it's an AU but The Light & The Red by @rosegardeninwinter also has great toastbaby representation!

*Five by @msdisdain explores the idea that Katniss meant there was a pregnancy at 5, 10, and 15 years, which has stuck with me and is the reason why I see the toastbabies as having a 5-year age gap.

[hellishotelier]

Starting Alastor Headcanons

In Life

Father, Joseph, from a decently wealthy business family. Upper middle class. White. He would eventually become a lawyer.

Mother, Cecelia, mixed race, worked as a maid in a hotel.

Parents met in a concert saloon, bonding over music. For him it was a summer fling but she was in love.

Born as Michael Alastor Garcin, May 22nd, 1892.

Went by his first/"Catholic" name among white people or generally those he was trying to impress, but his second "real" name by friends and family or people who otherwise knew he was mixed. He also either used his mother's last name (his own legal last name) or his father's last name. Though he would sometimes switch it up, he usually kept his Catholic name with his father's last name and real name with his mother's. So he usually either went by Michael Anderson or Alastor Garcin (or derivations of this)

Joseph refused to acknowledge his son as his, so Cecilia raised him on her own without his father's financial support

Alastor was light enough and has enough of his father's features to pass. While he grew up knowing his mother's Creole culture, she encouraged him to also adopt more white customs for a better chance of success. As in, learned from an early age to compartmentalize himself and be very cognizant of how he is perceived by others. Very aware of the various masks he needs to wear.

Alastor grew to resent his father and everything he stood for. He has two main goals in regards to his father. Make him notice him. Make Joseph regret abandoning his mother. Whether this was to be by taking over a position of his or by being a nemesis. It didn't matter.

Was going to become a lawyer to try to topple his father, but couldn't afford to become one.

Served in WWI (details to appear in its own post at a later point).

When he returned from the war, he found that both his beloved mother and reviled father had died of Spanish Flu while he was gone. So he neither got to say goodbye to her or get closure/revenge on his father.

In a fit of directionless rage, Alastor killed the first person he thought deserved it in some way. Really was just some random drunk. But that caught the bug for him in a taste for murder. From then on, he would have a mental list of potential victims and when he got into a murderous mood, he would find one of them and kill them.

Post-war, had two jobs, one for each of his identities. Michael Anderson was a radio tech with aspirations for being a host. But this never happened. For Alastor Garcin, he was a pianist at a jazz club. Gave him an extra income for his lifestyle.

Kill count (not including the war) was 31 over 15 years. He kept them spread out fairly well, though he always did at least some murder around mid-April since that's when he found out his parents died.

Died on June 20, 1934. Was shot by a hunter after coming back from burying a body. This hunter, John Murphy panicked and tried to dispose of Alastor's body, but in doing so poorly, was pinned for the murder Alastor was covering. This led to a domino effect where Murphy was accused, tried, and convicted for most of Alastor's murders (not all were connected to the case and were otherwise never discovered or ruled as other causes).

Therefore Alastor's only real legacy (or what he would be known for by anyone who didn't directly know him) is for being a notorious serial killer's last victim. Alastor does not know this.

Afterlife

General current goals: Get out of deal and then stay independent, survive, find purpose in eternity

He was not a cannibal in life. However, he is in afterlife since Rosie was one of the first people he came across when he arrived in Hell. As he was learning the ins and outs of Hell, the offerings made him assume that's just what people are in Hell. He soon found out that wasn't the case, but by that point he wasn't bothered by it.

Contracted with [redacted] ((in RP, by default it won't be who I'm RPing with. It would need to be negotiated specifically. No auto contract))

July 21, 1976 officially dead longer than alive.

[kaycode1999]

Hiyaa!!! I was wondering if you could do a MHA and or jjk match up for me?? Sooo I'm 15, and I'm a really kind and caring person with a bubbly, outgoing personality. I can be VERY judgemental sometimes.... But like towards people I don't like, and fist impressions are EVERYTHING to me. I'm a really sensitive person when I overthink about things so if a person is dry or nonchalant I'll think they'll hate me... But if I get to know them I'll understand them better and stuff and I'll be more close with them. I'm also EXTREMELY loud, most of my family members are loud and I think that's probably the reason why I'm so loud, I HATE being quiet. I can be really blunt too, I don't really have a filter and I'm really childish sometimes with my friends, but I'm extremely mature for my age and I'm kind and generous. According to lots of grown ups, I'm a good helper. I'm musically talented, I play flute, violin, electric guitar, and keyboard. I wanna learn saxophone too.

I'm sorry that my personality is so long but anyways.... I'm not really tall, I'm 5'2. I'm African American and I have a little bit of German in me, idk what else. I wouldn't say I'm fat, but I am according to my weight. I'm like, curvy chubby. Because, I have an hourglass body and you can still see the curves but it's not like "Omg she's so slim". most of my weight are my muscles, but you can't really see them because of my fat. HELP IT'S STUPID BUT HEAR ME OUT.... Anyways.... My style is like all over the place, i would say is grunge coquette. I wear lots of Dark clothing but I like to keep it girly.

My hobbies are listening to music, eating, playing music, sketching, and sleeping... That's it ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

My favorite music artists are Mitski, Laufey, and Peirce The Veil... Also MCR. I listen to a lot of other music too, my other favourites are Chappell Roan, Tommy February6, and Conan Gray.

I'm a bi girlie, and I prefer girls but I have my exceptions for boys... I'm really picky with boys too I feel like, because they have to be nice and stuff, not like how like half of the boys in my school are. For girls, I'm not picky. And for both in general, my ideal partner is someone who can keep up with me because I'm really slow like... Mentally. I can be loud, annoying to certain people, clingy, stuff like that. I'd also want someone who's more mature than me and can lead the relationship and make the first moves because... Uhh. I'm NOT a flirt or anything. I'm awkward and shy when it comes to that stuff.

THAT'S IT!! Sorry if it's too long and thank you!! (๑˃̵　ᴗ　˂̵)و

MHA

I match you with

Momo Yaoyorozu

JJK

I match you with

Yuji Itadori

They are both kind and outgoing people so you get along well

Momo finds the judgmental side hilarious and loves it when it’s towards the right person, Yuji won’t blame you for being judgmental especially if there’s a bad first impression

If it’s a person they like that you have gotten a bad start with they will try to mend things and show you why they like this person

They are understanding of you being sensitive, the good thing is they are both kind people so I don’t think they’d do or say anything to hurt or upset you. And if they have an off day or something like that you’ll know them well enough at that point to know it’s not your fault

Yuji doesn’t think anything about you being loud, he’s around plenty of people who are. Momo doesn’t mind it and finds it slightly amusing

There are better ways to do and say things of course, but neither of them mind the bluntness too much. They see it as honesty

Yuji loves to be childish along with you, and Momo thinks it’s adorable when you are

They both appreciate that you are also mature

They both admire that you are kind and generous

They are so fascinated by your musical talent

They both think you’re gorgeous and love your style

They enjoy listening to music with you and you get them into a lot of different artists

They both like getting food with you any time

They’ll go as slow with things as you need

They don’t mind if you’re a little clingy, they think it’s adorable as long as it doesn’t interfere with daily life

They can definitely be mature and lead the relationship

They both think it’s adorable you’re awkward with flirting and stuff like that

[serafiel-jacobs]

Down the rabbit hole (Fanfic)

New Chapter of my Fic series <3

January 7th 18XX

Pinocchio had told his father all about the the new friend he made, well, everything except the part where he got lost, Gemini didn’t say anything either, neither of them wanted to let the secret out and not be able to meet with Alice.

“She sounds like a lovely young girl, I’m happy that you made a friend so far away from home” Geppetto was proud of his son, making friends can be hard, even harder in an unfamiliar place, “Just be sure to come back before dark remember? Don’t stay out too late”

“Father, I’m not a five-year-old child, I know how to take care of myself,” Pinocchio said confidently.

“No, you are a one-year-old brat that is too over his head,” Gemini said with a smug voice, he was right, at least about his age.

Pinocchio gave a small shake to Gemini’s cage, “Shut up Gemini”

Geppetto laughed and patted his son’s head “No matter your age, you will always be my little boy, please take care, son”

So, Geppetto went to his work, and Pinocchio headed to the Royal Opera House to meet with his new friend, he asked at the entrance, and a woman pointed him to where Alice was currently, “A friend of Alice? Hopefully, you are in your full mental faculties” Pinocchio found it odd how people would make comments about Alice like that, it seemed rude.

Alice was in a storage room, it was filled with boxes that contained props and costumes, it had a bookcase in the back of one of the walls, but the most eye-catching thing was the piano that took up the most space in the room, Alice was playing a beautiful tune, Pinocchio didn’t interrupt her, the melody was lovely, Alice gratefully moved her fingers along the piano keys, until the last few notes came undone, at the captivating music was over.

“That was beautiful! I wish I could play like that” Pinocchio smiled at her.

“You know how to play the piano?” Alice was intrigued, aside from Nan Sharpe who taught her how to play, she hadn’t met others who played it, it was odd since she worked at an Opera house, yet only she and another man, the one in charge of playing when it was needed in a performance, were the only ones who could play the instrument, most of the cast sang, and most of the orchestra played string instruments.

“Yes, my mother taught me how!” Pinocchio always got excited talking about Antonia, “She is a great teacher”

“She sounds like a great woman” This boy was so full of energy and very innocent, but she could tell he was strong, and she needed the help, she felt bad for asking but this was a dire situation.

“I’m sorry to ask you for this, but truthfully I need your help with something’ Alice felt selfish, she had just met him and she was already asking him a favor, a huge favor.

“I can help, I love helping others” Helping others makes them happy and that made him happy.

Alice grabbed Pinocchio’s hand, “I need you to come with me” She took him back to the door to exit the room, but outside the room, the place was no longer the Opera House, it was a completely different world, the plain was filled with grass, but not green grass but rather it has a light blue tone, the sky had a shade of purple and it was filled with bright starts.

“Wow, where are we?”

Alice didn’t expect that reaction from Pinocchio, she expected him to freak out and start to panic, it looks like they have something in common.

“This is like, a place between reality and not reality, I found myself in it, and I help others battle with their mind demons, I battled to my own land, my Wonderland, and I want to help others as well” Alice had already helped a few in her quest, she knows first hand how cruel one’s own mind can be.

“This place is very pretty, how did you find it” Gemini was amazed by it.

“Well, it’s a long story and very bizarre” Alice took a small pause “Maybe the two of you are truly mad like me, how come you both find it strange?”

“Remember when I told you we helped save Krat? We have seen so much strange stuff” Gemini answered, they were just used to things like this by now, “Not the strangest thing we have encountered”

“Yeah, we love a good adventure” Pinocchio was thrilled about this, he came to get a vacation and he also got a fun new adventure. He was enjoying London so much. “So, who are we going to help?”

“That’s the thing…” Alice was wondering how she should say this, “This time, I’m not helping someone, rather, I want to capture someone, although I guess I am helping someone because I’m helping the victims, and preventing more victims”

Pinocchio looked puzzled, “Victims? Did some get hurt by this person?”

“Have you not heard of Jack The Ripper?” Alice rolled her eyes, not at Pinocchio but at herself, he isn’t from here, she figured he wouldn’t know who he was.

“No, but if they are called “The Ripper” then they are not a good person” Pinocchio could figure out something as simple as that.

“This man has murdered five women, no one knows who he is, but I found his world, I need to find who he is and stop him” Alice would be lying if she said that she was only doing this out of the kindness of her heart, but unfortunately Nan Sharpe still worked as a prostitute, and all the victims were prostitutes as well, she couldn’t lose her, and she won’t let anyone else fall victim, but as soon as she stepped into the world, she was bombarded with enemies, almost as if he knew someone was there to try and stop him if she could only get closer if only she wasn’t alone to stop him, then she could catch him, and find a way to expose his identity, maybe no one would believe her if she reported it herself, but thankfully the police accepted anonymous reports sent by letters.

“That’s horrible” Pinocchio was sad and angry, he couldn’t let someone like that get away with what they were doing, “Let me help, I want to help” he had set his mind to it.

“Won’t we need a weapon or something? How do we get one here?” Gemini wanted to help as well but he just realized they had no way to fight.

“Oh it’s very simple really” Alice gave them both a smirk and from her hand, a blade manifested, the vorpal blade, and then with a wave of her hand it disappeared, she showed them her arsenal of weapons; her teapot cannon; the paper grinder; her hobby horse (who was her favorite); the clockwork bomb, that one made Pinocchio gave out a small chuckle, he found it cute; and finally her umbrella to defend herself.

“You just have to think of it, and it will manifest”

Pinocchio thought about the weapons he had previously used on his quest, he found himself being able to summon each one he had in mind, the pulse cells too, and all the other objects he had previously used before, “This is great, this is so cool!”

“Alright, are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” Both Pinocchio and Gemini said in unison.

———-

They arrived at their destination, the world wasn’t like the one he was before, they were inside a mansion, a terrifying mansion, stepping inside, there was blood all over the walls and floor.

“Geez this guy’s mind is truly creepy” Gemini was sure it was more than just creepy, it was disturbing.

“Looks like the entrance is empty, for now, that is, let’s explore” Alice led them along, although with less than a minute walking, Pinocchio finally realized something.

“Wait, when did my clothes change?!”

Gemini was stunned, he was in Pinocchio’s belt all the time and even he didn’t notice.

Pinocchio was wearing a blue tea-length dress, the bottom part had butterflies flapping in rhythm, and a white ribbon was tied in the back of his waist, he still had his belt where Gemini was, but it was more than just one, three belts decorated his outfit, he wore white stockings with and black boots, he was wearing gloves, but not like the ones he usually wears, although they were also white, these gloves were larger and went up to his elbow, and the front of his wrist was decorated with two more blue butterflies, one for each hand.

There was a full-body mirror next to them, and Pinocchio looked at his new outfit in awe, “I look… so pretty!” Pinocchio had never worn a dress before, he didn’t know he could wear dresses, and he loved it.

“Look Gemini, your cage is different too!”

Gemini still wore the green ribbon that Pinocchio had given him for Christmas, but now the ribbon had a blue color and a heart in its center, it was simple, but Gemini also liked his new look.

Alice was wearing a blue dress as well, although simpler than his, black stockings with white stripes, talk black boots, a white ribbon on her waist, and the front part of the dress was white with two pockets with two symbols and it was stained with a few drops of blood, she hair was longer now, not shoulder length like him anymore.

“Yes you do, but we must move along before we find danger, or the danger finds us” Alice grabbed Pinocchio’s hand and pulled him towards a hallway, before she had to retreat last time, she had managed to find a way to sneak in further.

As they wandered, Pinocchio examined his surroundings, the walls were not only covered in blood but in guts as well, eyes were stuck in clocks that watched them move along, and the chairs and tables were made of bones and flesh, Gemini was right, this just too creepy. Finally, at the end of one corridor, Alice pointed at the bottom of a wall, a very tiny door was there.

“Alright, drink this” Alice handed Pinocchio a small glass bottle with a purple liquid inside, he found it odd, but Alice was the one to know about this stuff, so he did as she said, he took a sip and began to slowly shrink in size, Alice had drank it too and soon both of them were small as a mouse.

“Is this some, um, mind-altering stuff? We can get to our normal size again right?” Although Pinocchio had seen all sorts of abilities when he saved Krat, he had to admit some of these concepts were a bit hard for him to grasp.

“Oh don’t worry, we can go back to our normal size when we want, we can even get bigger by eating a small amount of cake, although I only have a limited supply for that, we better save it for the real danger, well I guess we are already in real danger, more so, the danger that is too big for us, and then, we will be too big for them” Alice formed sentences as if she was a rollercoaster.

Both entered through the tiny door, which led them to a small room that contained a bedroom, a bookcase, and a few drawers, there was a desk filled with newspapers, upon closer examination, they all talked about him and his victims, Pinocchio looked around and found a small diary in one of the drawers, they all began to read what it said.

“Today one of those whores at the Mangled Mermaid decided to turn me down, that ugly bitch, how dare she? I showed her that she shouldn’t mess with me, I’m tired of all these women who think they can reject someone like me, someone who is actually important, not some low life bottom of the barrel scum”

The motive was there, simple enough, he was just a pathetic desperate man with a delicate ego, the entries continued, most were of his hatred for women, and they found out that this man was someone in high society, someone with connections, after his 3rd kill, his murderers got more methodical, the other two were planned in advance, that last diary entry made Alice heart sank,

“This fat tramp at the Mangled Mermaid managed to get me banned from the place, her constant complaining got the better of the rest of the pimps and now I’m not allowed back there, she knows something, why else would they listen to a worthless whale of a slut? Pimps don’t care about what they say, she must have something on me. I’ve been spying on her, I know that you leave at the same hour every day Sharpe, you are not going to be like the others, I’m going to make you suffer”

Alice's head hurt, she briefly fell onto the floor but regained her composure, she had to save her nan. “We must go, the only thing to find is their name” As much information as the diary gave them, there was no name, and they also would need proof of the deeds, there must be something else hidden around this mansion that could give them clues.

They stepped outside and regained their normal stature, as they kept exploring, they came into a large room, this must be the main hall, the room had stairs that led up top, but from the floor, a black thick liquid began to form and disturbing creatures that were made of the ooze and baby doll parts began to form.

“That’s ruin, ugly gross, and evil in a single monstrosity!” Alice didn’t need to explain more, Pinocchio drew his weapon, and she drew hers as well.

A horde of enemies came after them, some drifted in the hair, and some small ones slithered into the floor; Alice and Pinocchio were fierce fighters, the hordes of enemies might have been overwhelming if faced alone, but together they made a great team, most of the enemies had been defeated, the last one fell, but it wouldn’t be so easy, it was too early to claim victory, as all the remaining ruin became a colossal creature, it gave a high pitched screech and charged towards them, at one point, Alice was about to be hit, but she suddenly her body disappeared and she turned into dozens of blue butterflies, before regaining her true form, Pinocchio was a but stunned, but he couldn’t let himself be distracted, he helped Alice by baiting the creature to attack him, and from behind, Alice gave the finishing blow.

They both wasted no time in going upstairs, as they walked Alice could tell Pinocchio was looking at her differently, “Do I have something in my face?” She was curious, it could be possible that she was stained with ruin and she didn’t even notice.

“No, it’s not that, sorry for starting, you just, reminded me of a friend that’s all, she can also turn into butterflies” Pinocchio was apologetic, he didn’t mean to stare, he just had Sophia in his mind at the moment.

“Yeah, and blue butterflies as well, what a coincidence am I right?” Gemini found the situation to be quite odd, what are the chances after all?

“I would love to meet this friend of yours, if she is your friend, she must be as interesting as you are”

“Her name is Sophia and-“

But Pinocchio was interrupted, and a new wave of enemies attacked, not just ruin, but malformed house objects made with disgusting body parts, they kept up with the pace until they made it to the final room of the house, filled with locks, it was only a matter of finding their way in.

“Let’s leave it here for today, we can come back tomorrow and finally finish this” Alice was determined, they had made it so far in just one day.

Pinocchio nodded and they returned to the real world, back at the Opera House, Pinocchio was thinking, what he saw, it was all so scary, so awful, but he felt the adrenaline, his fighting instinct took over, and he felt at ease that he wasn’t harming real creatures but rather figments of someone’s twisted mind, and he was determined just as Alice to find Jack The Ripper and stop him.

“Oh my… that has never happened before” Pinocchio’s thoughts were interrupted by Alice speaking, he looked around but saw nothing unusual.

“Huh? Pinocchio your clothes didn’t change back!” Gemini was just as surprised, his cage ribbon was back to normal after all, and Alice's clothes were normal as well.

“I suppose something went wrong when we went back” Alice might know how to traverse the place, but she was no expert, if she had to assume, this was a one-time thing, and the next time they went together, whatever clothes he came with won’t get lost in the transition back, Alice does remember one time in one of the first minds she helped, that a small octopus tentacle was left in the floor once she came back, nothing else has left that plain.

“I don’t understand, but, I like this dress!” He was excited about his new clothes.

Alice just smiled at him, “Why you look even prettier than me”

They made plans to meet again tomorrow and Pinocchio left to go back to the hotel, he got a lot of looks on his way, a few men blowing him kisses, Pinocchio was obvious about their true intentions, he was just too delighted about his new look, he entered the Hotel and his father was in the room, he had a blue paper with some sort of schematics in his hands.

“Son, what did you see today at-“ Geppetto looked up and saw his son, he became speechless for a moment, there was nothing wrong with his son wearing a dress, it was more the fact that those were not the clothes he left with, and they were specially not that ridiculously detailed.

“Did you buy yourself some new clothes?” Then Geppetto’s tone became a bit irritated “Did you buy those clothes because you ruined the other ones?”

“What? No Father I didn’t ruin my clothes this time! I just… um, lost them I guess”

“What do you mean you lost your clothes?!” Geppetto had so many thoughts in his mind, all the worst fears a father can have.

“Um, well…” Pinocchio didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t tell him where he was, I mean sure his father had seen a lot of strange stuff back at Krat just like him but explaining everything that happened would be too much, he just wouldn’t believe him.

“What happened is that we went to see Alice at the Royal Opera House and Pinocchio tried some costumes, and when it was time to go we couldn’t find his clothes, Alice said that they probably got mixed up with the other costumes and someone took them, so she gifted us the dress, it was something she made anyways”

Gemini had Pinocchio’s back, they wouldn’t let his friend get into trouble over nothing, and he was proud of himself for making up such a convincing lie on the spot.

Geppetto gave a sigh of relief, “Look, it’s fine, I guess something like that can happen by accident, I’m sorry for making assumptions” He really was sorry for thinking the worst, but hearing your son say that they lost their clothes isn’t something a parent wants to hear, there were so many possibilities and he was glad none of them were true.

“Father, I look so pretty can I wear dresses more often?” Pinocchio had a big smile on his face.

“Of course son, you can wear what you want” Geppetto gently played with his son’s hair, if others found it odd, he didn’t care, let people talk and think what they would, if wearing them made his son happy then he was happy.

“Although for now, it’s getting late, let’s get some rest” It was almost dark outside and both of them had done a lot of work that day, it was best they went to bed earlier than usual.

“Yes just um…” Pinocchio looked at his outfit, his beautiful, ridiculously detailed outfit. “How do I take it off?”

Geppetto laughed, it reminded him of years ago on his wedding night, how his wife ranted for an hour about getting her dress undone, but that’s something that comes with dresses, the more detailed, the harder they are to take off.

Geppetto helped his son take off the dress and promised him that he would later buy him more dresses, ones that were simpler and didn’t take 20 minutes to take off.

Pinocchio lay in bed, he could sleep, and he couldn’t wait to see Alice tomorrow, and finally put an end to what that man was doing, he felt like a detective solving a case, and he felt joy at the thought of saving others.

[eaglesnick]

“To some people a tree is something so incredibly beautiful that it brings tears to the eyes. To others it is just a green thing that stands in the way.”  William Blake

Everyone (of a certain age) knows the song Jerusalem. The music was written by Sir Hubert Parry in 1916 to boost British morale during World War 1. This song, words by William Blake, is the official anthem of the British Women's Institute, and historically was used by the National Union of Suffrage Societies. It is also the song that traditionally ends the BBC’s Last Night of the Proms.

I mention this song as it contains the lines:

And did those feet in ancient time

Walk upon England’s mountains green:

And was the holy Lamb of God,

On England’s pleasant pastures seen!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,

Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand:

Till we have built Jerusalem,

In England’s green & pleasant Land.

Yesterday we were informed that in this “green and pleasant land” of ours, one in six of British wildlife species is in danger of extinction. Bird populations are expected to be reduced by 43%, and 26% of British mammals are expected to disappear.

Far from being a “green and pleasant land” we are knowingly destroying the very environment we depend upon for our well-being. From polluted waterways and beaches to the sanctioning of pesticides and herbicides banned elsewhere in the world; from anti-clean air campaigns to the promotion of more fossil fuel extraction and carbon emissions, we are knowingly walking into an ecological disaster.

Neither Sunak nor Starmer seemed concerned about our countries ecological future, and neither it seems do many of our fellow citizens. The former are more interested in personal power, the latter more concerned about how much it will cost them in monetary terms.

A lesser-known poem by William Blake is “London” wherein he describes:

“The bleak, polluted urban environment that resulted from the unrestricted burning of coal, the discharge of raw sewage into the Thames, and the inexorable spread of contagious disease."   (J.C McKusick: “The End of Nature: Environmental Apocalypse in William Blake and Mary Shelly.”; Springer Link, 11/11/15.

If Blake’s  environmental apocalypse turns out to be as true for the 21st century as it did for the 19th, then we will only have ourselves to blame.

[the-witching-ash]

🌟 + Richie?

10 Facts About My Characters

🌟 Drop one of my characters’ names in my inbox and I’ll tell you 10 facts about them 🌟

1) Richie’s first job was with Luke at the diner, he’d been working odd jobs prior to that & started working to save up enough for a car. By his and Rory’s sixteenth birthday, he’d saved almost enough for it but not quite - with Lorelei’s blessing, Luke’s present for him was the remainder of the money. Richie asked if Luke would go with him to get the truck.

2) While in physical recovery for his leg after his football injury, his physical therapist strongly encourages a mental therapist as well, which is where he gets diagnosed for his social anxiety. (Luke was at the game where Richie got injured, managed to convince Lorelei to let him pay for anything regarding Richie’s recovery.)

3) He got into photography because of Rachel - he was twelve and wanted to know how her camera worked, she showed him how. Luke has pictures from that time, neither of them know.

4) Started off labeling himself as bi but realized it didn’t feel right, so he switches to labeling himself as Queer.

5) His was obsessed with dinosaurs as a kid, & after Jurassic Park came out, it became a major comfort movie for him. (Fast forward to later ages & many rewatches later, Jeff Goldbum as Ian Malcolm was definitely apart of his queer awakening.)

6) Even after retiring from dance & skating, he still helps out Miss.Patty by either playing the piano during practices, ocassionally teaching the younger kids the dance moves & getting them to pay attention, or by lending his free time to use the truck to help her transport equipment.

7) He doesn’t do all of them, but once he gets a better grip on his studies & depending on what musical Chilton is doing, he’ll audition for it.

8) He’d known he wanted to be a doctor since he was nine, but it took until Richard’s first heart attack for him to decide he wanted to be a cardiologist.

9) He doesn’t get his first psychiatric service dog until season six when he’s living at his own place and not in the dorms.

10) Between Luke and Sookie, Richie learned how to cook and by the start of the series, he often cooks and meal preps for himself as he tends to eat less take out then Rory & Lorelei do.

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🖋 for an oc you don't get to talk about as much!!

taking this as an excuse to talk about an oc set i've not actually posted about before: the complex >:) putting this under the cut bc it got long lol

so (in its Final Forme) it is/would be a webcomic, centering around five tenants of the same run-down apartment building: kris, markus, marina, alaska, and jaime. all of them moved in because of the ridiculously low rent prices for this particular building despite the relative closeness to the center of the city. after moving in, though, they realize something's very weird - nobody but them actually lives there, and none of them have ever seen the landlord.

each has things they're running from: kris bears a curse placed on him by his old friend group (and a repressed gender crisis); markus is a twice-orphaned ex-musician trying to keep up with his college's expectations; marina struggles with delusions and possible visions of the future getting tangled together; alaska has to come to terms with a worsening disability that keeps her from doing what she loves; and jaime has to contend with a returning eating disorder (and a demon possession but that happens later).

they inevitably end up getting forced closer together as the apartment building shifts and warps around them as if trying to keep them in, and all of their issues manifest in ways that are harder and harder to ignore.

another important character who isn't technically part of the main cast (as he doesn't live there) is jaime's estranged twin sister, havoc. he shows up shortly after jaime gets possessed because the demon answers one of his calls (because it thinks it should) and he's immediately suspicious. he acts as a set of fresh eyes for the other residents when he points out all the messed up stuff that's going on in the building that they've gotten used to.

and for a breakdown of each character (because i am Insane):

kris is a half-demon with one functioning eye, a bum leg, and a cracked-off horn. all are consequences of a curse his old 'friends' put on him while they were screwing around with Old Magic. he moved across the country to get away from them, but the curse is degenerative, and eats away more of his health every day. for now, he's working by day as a store clerk and by night as a bouncer at a club, neither of which pay well and both of which grate on his mental health. his dream is to work with animals in a rehab setting, but there's no world where he has the money or time to get into that. in the meantime, he tries to keep a good social life. he roller skates. he tries to talk with markus, who he has a crush on. he commiserates with alaska about chronic illness.

markus, similarly, moved across the country to get where he is. his birth parents both died before he was five, and his adoptive mother passed away when he was 16 due to complications from cancer treatment. he aged out of the foster system and joined a band that ended up breaking up when he was about twenty due to interpersonal conflicts. as a last-ditch effort to turn his life around, he applied for a scholarship to a music college on the coast and made it in. he can play guitar, drums, and a bit of piano; he sings, and he's got a good sense of rhythm, but he doesn't like the restrictions of college and the professional music scene. he likes singing and playing for the sake of it.

marina, in contrast to the others so far, had a relatively normal childhood. she'd wanted to be a florist when she was young, but that didn't end up working out (money troubles). she dropped out of college due to worsening symptoms of an unknown mental illness. the only truly unique and unexplainable thing that she deals with are the visions of the future, fleeting inclinations, which become more intense and more accurate the older she gets. at first, she brushes them off, but then, she pulls the fire alarm moments before a poorly-grounded wire in her old apartment shorts, and the ceiling begins to cave in under sudden flame. she brakes hard before driving over a bridge that collapses under the next car that drives over it. she's not sure what to do with this power, but she tries her best to escape it.

alaska is probably the most normal. she has no curse, no strange power, no exceptionally sad backstory. she's just unlucky. she works as a landscaper, has since she graduated high school, and she really loves it. she loves the physicality of it, getting her hands muddy; she loves working on a project and seeing things change because of her as she works. but she gets into a car accident, one that crushes her right leg under a crumpled car door. her femur is shattered, and despite her and the doctors' best efforts, she ends up needing a hip replacement, and travels with a wheelchair for six months afterwards. since then, chronic pain follows her and makes it increasingly difficult to keep doing what she loves.

jaime is probably the most comedic character. on her own, she's an instagram 'self-improvement' influencer who generally posts 'living alone in x city' content, alongside product sponsorships. however, she falls back into food-restrictive habits that plagued her in her teenage years (but more in the 'thinfluencer' sphere with shitty diet pills and weird juice mixes). in pursuit of what she thinks is a niche diet cleanse, she ends up summoning a demon and binding it to her body. the demon basically goes 'damn bitch you live like this??' and she realizes how messed up her eating habits are. she also starts trying to make amends with havoc, her sister, whom she had a falling-out with when the two graduated high school.

havoc is a mechanic and somewhat of a punk rocker. he plays drums for a tiny indie band on weekends and fixes cars and motorcycles on weekdays. he doesn't have many friends, but prefers it that way, and secretly really wishes he and jaime could get along again.

ok jesus christ this got long. i'm going to bed GOODNITE

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Devilish Desires - 6/8

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.

Stuff happened, got seriously derailled by Tony Stark this weekend... so I didn't finish chapter 7, but as I'm not that far from it, I decided to post chapter 6 anyway because it's getting too long and I can't wait for you to read that one. I hope you're feeling peckish, lovelies because it's time to feed the hunger once again and take a cold shower after reading this ;p

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 6/8

Word Count: 9.5K / 60K+ for now (7.5K of pure smut and I'm not even sorry.) MINORS DNI

As promised, the paperwork arrived the next morning, neatly prepared and tucked into a crisp folder. The early light filtered through the kitchen window, casting soft shadows across Logan’s rugged features as he thumbed through the pages. Each section was meticulous, outlining boundaries, expectations, and a footnote that highlighted the confidentiality agreement extending to everyone in the mansion—alongside the strict no-kissing policy he’d insisted on.

Across from him, E sat with one leg casually crossed over the other, sipping their coffee in a manner that exuded nonchalance, as if this were any other routine contract. The morning air crackled with unspoken tension, and Logan’s senses picked up the subtle notes of their scent, stirring something within him that he quickly pushed aside.

Satisfied, he nodded approvingly and took the pen in hand. The familiar scratch of the ink gliding across the page seemed to echo in the still room, each stroke a mark binding them to something both exhilarating and perilous. He couldn’t shake the notion that this was more than just an arrangement. It was a challenge, a dance neither of them knew the full steps to, but both were determined to lead.

When he pushed the folder back across the table, E’s smirk was unmistakable—a mixture of confidence and playfulness that tugged at his instincts. They picked up the pen and signed with a flourish, a little glint of mischief in their eyes as if sealing a pact they’d secretly rewritten the rules to. The sound of their pen moving across the paper felt like the last click of a lock before the inevitable tension broke free.

They slid Logan’s copy back to him, fingers brushing his just long enough for a spark to ignite, fleeting and undeniable. The room felt warmer suddenly, charged with something neither of them cared to name aloud.

E stood up, the light playing off the contours of their figure as they tucked their copy of the accords under one arm. They paused, eyes meeting his with a look that was both a promise and a taunt. “I’ve got to deal with something. See you around, pretty boy.” Their voice had a lilt that left him balancing between a smirk and a snarl.

Logan watched, jaw tight and eyes narrowed, as they walked out. Their hips swayed in that deliberate way that made him curse under his breath. He tracked them until they disappeared from view, the echo of their footsteps still rippling through his thoughts.

A low chuckle escaped him, and he allowed himself one moment to savor the way his gut twisted in anticipation. Yeah, they knew exactly what they were doing. And damn it if he wasn't enjoying it.

In the days that followed, they crossed paths a few times, each caught up in their own busy routines. Logan had plenty to do between missions, the history lessons and helping the kids at the mansion, but the thought of E lingered at the back of his mind more than he'd like to admit.

It wasn’t until one particularly restless night that he found himself staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the image of their devilish grin and mesmerizing eyes. His thoughts drifted—first to the sway of their hips, then to the curve of their smile, and eventually to how intoxicatedly powerful they’d looked when they revealed their true form.

A soft knock at his door interrupted his reverie, making his head snap toward the sound. Instantly, he caught their scent—spice wrapped in smoke. With a knowing grin, he swung open the door to find E standing there in dark red satin pajamas, their little horns peeking out from their black hair, looking a little longer than usual, their tips reddening.

“Hey,” Logan greeted, his voice low and filled with a hint of the desire he'd been harboring.

E’s lips curled into an amused smile. “Nice to see you too. Liking what you see, pretty boy?”

It wasn’t a question—it never was.

“Maybe.”Logan leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “What brings you to me so late at night, counselor?” he teased, eyebrow cocked.

“You know I can feel you through walls, right ? When you think of me?” E replied, mirroring his smirk. The confidence in their voice sent a shiver down Logan's spine.

For a brief moment, his smile faltered. He hadn’t thought of that. But the smirk returned on his lips just as quickly as it had disappeared. “You don’t like it?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

“Didn’t say that,” they purred, casting a quick glance at the hallway before pressing a hand to his chest, leaning forward, and gently urging him back into his room. Logan let them guide him, retreating toward the bed as they closed the door behind them and locked it with a quiet click.

“Though, I was thinking…” E's voice trailed off, eyes gleaming with playful intent as they pushed him again, this time until the back of his legs hit the bed to make him sit. “If we're going to do this—if you're going to think about me this much, Logan—then we'll have to play by my rules.”

Logan arched a brow, his gaze flicking up to meet theirs as they towered over him now. The low hum of anticipation curling in his gut kept him from refusing outright. "Your rules, huh?" he huffed, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips before he nodded. "Fine."

E’s tail slipped out of their pajama pants, making its way toward his forearm to stroke his skin, light as a feather “Good.” The word was stretched, as if it had a flavor and they were enjoying its taste.

As exhilarating as the idea of giving them the lead was, his reason screamed at him to push back, to stay in control. But as they had both agreed, the energy in the room shifted. It wasn't just their words that held him he realized—it was something deeper. He felt the subtle weight of their power settle over his mind, not enough to force him but enough to keep him tethered to the spot. Like a leash held loose in their grip.

E's smirk deepened as they caught the flicker of resistance in his eyes, the internal struggle. “You’ll stay still… unless I tell you otherwise. That’s the game tonight, pet,” they said, climbing over him, straddling his lap with a grace that made it impossible for him to look away. “For now, at least.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting to reclaim some control. His hands twitched, itching to grab their hips, but the unspoken leash kept him anchored. He could break it—he knew he could—but that was their game, wasn’t it? And tonight, he agreed to let them win.

“I had a question,” E began again, their voice dripping with sensuality as they made themselves comfortable, the weight of them on him only adding to the heat pooling low in his belly. “Regarding the contract.”

He gripped the sides of the bed, every muscle tense as they leaned in closer, breath ghosting over his neck while their tail possessively wrapped itself around his calf.

“You said no kissing, right?” they purred, lips grazing the sensitive skin of his throat. Logan managed a nod, even as his thoughts scattered at the first brush of their mouth against him.

“But what about biting?” they asked, lips still hovering near his neck before their teeth nipped at his skin, sharp but not painful. “Or licking?” Their breath was hot against his skin, sending a shiver straight down his spine as the heat of their tongue dragged, slow and deliberate, along his pulse point, making his fists clench on the bed frame. “Or sucking?” E finished, lips sealing over the tender spot they’d just teased.

Logan’s breath came out shakier than he'd like as they pressed their mouth to his neck, sucking softly on the skin. His body reacted before his mind could catch up. He wanted to move, to touch, but E's command held him in place—not just because of their words or the way they moved, but because every time he tried, it felt like a weight pressed down on him. A collar. And the more they teased, the tighter it became.

Everything was calculated, every move deliberate as they traced a path of wet kisses to his jaw, moaning softly. Each touch, each sound sent a surge of heat pooling in Logan’s belly, the restraint coiling tighter with each one.

“What about here?” E whispered, their breath warm against his ear before their teeth grazed the sensitive lobe, sending a shudder through him. A groan slipped out before he could stop it. “Do you like that, pretty boy?”

They shifted on his lap, pressing down just enough for him to feel them against the hardness growing beneath his sweatpants. E’s hand slid between their thighs to reach for him, brushing against their own warmth on the way, and Logan’s entire body tensed as their longs fingers found his hard length that was impossible to ignore. Their grin widened, feeding off the sensations radiating from his need.

“Yeah,” E purred, a surge of power making their voice drip with satisfaction. “I think you do.” Their voice was barely above a whisper now, but the sensation of them shivering in pleasure, feeding off his reaction, only made the need in his chest more intense.

A low growl rumbled deep in his chest as E’s hand teased his hard length again, making his body tighten, every muscle coiled and strained.

“You agreed to my rules,” E whispered, their lips brushing his ear, sending a jolt down his spine. “But I wonder… can you really keep up with me?” They shifted in his lap, grinding just enough to draw a low groan from deep within him. “Think you can handle it, pet?”

Could he? Hell, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Logan’s hands twitched, the urge to grab their hips, to flip the game around, surged through him. But the way they moved, the way they smiled with that knowing look, kept him still—kept him wanting.

“You’re a piece of work, E…” he muttered between gritted teeth, his voice raw with frustration. Desire blazed in his eyes, but he held himself back—just barely.

E chuckled softly, leaning in closer, their lips hovering over his. “Good boy,” they whispered, breath fanning over his skin—a soft, teasing taunt. The warmth between their mouths was palpable. Yet, even with the closeness, there was no pull, no energy drained; as long as there was no true intent to close that distance, the boundary would stay in place. This was a test, a game of willpower and restraint.

“Let’s see how long you can stay nice,” they murmured, eyes flicking down to his lips before returning to meet his gaze. The space between them felt charged, every second of restraint like a coiled spring waiting to snap.

Logan gritted his teeth, jaw clenched as the battle within him grew fiercer.

“Mmm, gods, you’re delicious,” they murmured, breathless, their lips finding the crook of his neck as they fed off the raw energy pulsing from him. Logan’s mind spun, caught between raw need and unfamiliar territory. He’d faced dominance before—plenty of women liked taking control—but this? This was something else entirely. It wasn’t just dominance; it was a command of him so total it left him speechless, breathless, a stranger to his own instincts.

For the first time, words failed him. He surrendered, lost in the sensation, as E reveled in their power, every calculated move more intoxicating than the last. They were like a deadly poison—dangerous, but too tempting to resist, and Logan found himself craving more, despite the edge of danger that came with it.

E chuckled, sensing the shift in him and the soft sound brought him back to reality.

“Sorry, pet,” they murmured, easing back just enough to let him catch his breath, the tension loosening like a tether unwinding. “You looked so tasty… Guess I got greedy.”

Logan blinked, dazed, breath ragged as he tried to ground himself. “Greedy, huh?” His voice came out hoarse, and he shifted, hands flexing with the urge to pull them close.

E leaned back just enough to look into his eyes, their smirk never wavering. “Didn’t hear you complaining, pup’,” they teased, fingers still tracing slow, lazy circles over his inner thigh but not pushing further. They knew exactly what they were doing—exactly how much control they had in that moment. Hell, they both knew it.

Logan swallowed hard. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. “You’re—” His words faltered, and he cleared his throat. “You’re dangerous, E.” But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he liked it.

E’s eyes gleamed, a full smile stretching across their lips, horns noticeably longer an redder now, as if fueled by their growing desire. “Good, I wouldn’t want it any other way,” they whispered, leaning close enough for him to feel the heat of their breath on his lips, though still not kissing him. “Now let’s see how long you can behave.”

They began to grind against him again, keeping their slow and deliberate pace, and Logan could feel the shift in their energy. Their breath hitched, and a quiet moan escaped them, betraying their own need. The scent of their arousal filled the air, intoxicating, primal, and it took every ounce of Logan's willpower not to move. But the way they rolled their hips against him, their warmth pressing into his hard length, was driving him mad. He could hear their soft gasps close to his ear, each one sending a shockwave of heat through his body.

Logan’s fists clenched, desperate to keep still, to play their game, but his body trembled with the urge to move, to take control. He forced himself to stay still, each nerve screaming for freedom as every sound, every breath, every shift of their body teased him further. His heightened senses were a curse in this moment—he could feel their pulse quickening against his skin, their need building, and that scent—god, that scent—it was driving him feral. He wanted to dominate them, but they had the reins now, and he could feel the tension in his body that betrayed his desire to surrender. The more they played with him, the harder it became to hold back, to pretend he wasn't about to snap. Once again, his hands itched to grab hold of those hips that had been teasing him for weeks, to pull them down harder, but just as his fingers released the frame of the bed, ready to act, E tutted softly, their hands sliding over his arms, stopping him in his tracks.

The slow grind of their hips halted for a few agonizing seconds, leaving him stranded in frustration. The sudden stillness only amplified both their desires, their breath heavy and mingling in the small space between them. He could feel the way their body trembled slightly, not just from control but from the same need that gripped him.

“Who gave you permission to touch me, naughty boy?” they grinned down at him, mischief flickering in their eyes as they held him in place, daring him to keep playing their game.

Logan’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as E took his hand and guided his finger to their lips. The heat of their mouth surrounded him, slick and tantalizing. The gentle graze of their teeth and the moan that rumbled deep in their throat, sent a shiver down his spine. His pulse raced, every nerve sparking at the contact, and he fought not to react—his body betraying him with each slow, deliberate movement. Slowly, they let his finger slip free, their lips hovering just above the skin for a heartbeat. Then, with deliberate care, E pressed soft kisses to the spaces between each knuckle, right where his claws would emerge.

The touch was maddeningly light, just enough to send sparks of pleasure radiating from each point. Logan hadn’t realized how sensitive those spots were until now, but under the heat of E’s breath, they felt like live wires, pulsing with intensity. His breath hitched as they lingered over the third spot, their lips barely brushing the skin, teasing him with a delicate warmth that made his body tighten.

Their eyes flicked up to his, catching the way his pupils dilated with desire. A sly smile curled at their lips, and only then did they begin to move again, rolling their hips slowly, deliberately grinding down against his bulge. The combination of their teasing kisses and the pulsing heat between them was enough to drive him mad, leaving him unable to focus on anything else. Logan clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to grab hold of them, to take control—but E’s teasing voice sliced through his haze, reminding him who was in charge.

“You want to touch?” Their voice dropped into a low, sensual purr, the faint trace of a foreign, exotic accent adding to the magnetic pull they had over him. “You ask, pet.”

Logan's eyes darkened at the challenge. He wasn’t the type to ask when desire burned so fiercely. He was always the take action type—if someone wanted him, it was obvious, and he responded in kind. But this… this was different. E wanted him to play their game, to bend, and he could feel his pride bristling against it.

His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. E stopped moving entirely, their gaze flickering with a flash of concern. “You want to stop?” they asked, their voice losing its usual confidence, tinged now with a subtle layer of vulnerability.

Logan swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “No.” His voice came out rougher than usual, deeper, almost guttural. “It’s just…” He hesitated, the words stuck in his throat. “I’m not used to…”

E’s smirk returned, understanding gleaming in their eyes. “Oooh…” They dragged the sound out, hips rolling again as they resumed their slow grind. “Well, you can’t just grab what isn’t yours, pet. You need to ask permission first.”

Logan’s heart pounded in his chest, the weight of them on him, the heat, the smell—it all had him light-headed. He wasn’t one for asking, but this? This had him reeling. His lips parted, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

“Do you mind?” he rasped, his hand twitching against their side, still caught in their tantalizing grip.

E arched a brow, savoring the control they held over him. “Mind what?” Their voice dripped with playful mischief, the question lingering just long enough to test his patience. They pulled his hand up again, letting their full lips brush over his knuckles once more with agonizing slowness. Each kiss was deliberate, lingering. Logan’s breath hitched as E’s tongue flicked out, tracing the sensitive skin between his knuckles. His claws itched beneath his skin, and a wave of heat surged through him, making it harder to hold back.

The slow drag of their tongue, the way their lips lingered just a second too long, the cool sensation when their breath hit the wet spot—it was a careful unraveling of his composure. Every soft kiss made the space between them feel like it was about to snap, the tension mounting with every beat of his heart. E’s gaze locked onto his, watching the crack in his restraint widen, the way his chest rose and fell with barely contained need. They enjoyed every second of it.

Logan swallowed hard, his voice rough and feverish when it finally came out. “Do you mind if I… grab your hips?” The question wasn’t a demand but a plea, something foreign on his tongue, especially when he could feel the desire burning hotter with each passing second. His gaze was locked on theirs, his heart hammering so loud in his chest he was sure they could hear it, each thud echoing the restraint he was barely clinging to as he waited for their answer.

A sly grin spread across E’s lips as they released his hands. “No,” they whispered against his ear, toying with him, their breath hot on his skin as they reached the crook of his neck and nibbled at his pulse. There was a slight, teasing pause before they added, “I don’t mind at all.” Their words were playful but held a thread of command beneath the surface. “You see how easy it is, pet? Just use your words.”

Logan wasn’t listening anymore. The moment they granted him permission, his hands moved of their own accord, gripping their hips with a firm, hungry touch. His fingers dug into their soft flesh through the smooth fabric, and E let out a soft, breathy laugh, feeling the intensity of what coursed through him—how badly he wanted this, wanted them. The heat radiating off him was palpable, a heady mix of desire and restraint, and they reveled in the way his need practically pulsed beneath his skin.

They could feel it too—how every ounce of his hunger was feeding theirs.

Logan’s grip on their hips tightened, his hands finally claiming what he’d been aching to touch. The warmth of their body beneath his palms, the give of their flesh under his rough fingers—it sent a thrill down his spine. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as E’s laughter vibrated against his skin. That sound, low and teasing, sent a jolt of heat straight to his cock, making every muscle in his body tense beneath their weight.

Their own pulse quickened at the intensity of his touch, the need in his grip fueling a fire deep within them. His desperation was like an electric charge in the air, and they soaked it up, feeling it ignite their own desire. Gods, the way his hands squeezed, rough and possessive, it made their breath hitch, their walls clench around air. They could feel the way he wanted to pull them closer, harder, but still held back just enough, waiting for their lead.

“Good boy,” they whispered, and the words made something primal stir in Logan’s chest, a low rumble of need escaping him. E leaned in, their lips grazing his jawline before biting down through the scruff of his chin just enough to make him gasp, the sharp edge of pleasure and pain drawing a shudder from him. They felt him tense, his hands tightening reflexively on their hips, pulling them even closer, forcing them to stop moving for a few heartbeats. His heat was so intoxicating, seeping into their skin like a drug.

“You like that, don’t you?” Their voice was a sultry whisper, lips now brushing the sensitive skin of his neck as they spoke. They began to grind against him again, slow and deliberate, each roll of their hips sending shivers through both their bodies. The friction between them was maddening—each movement calculated to drive them both closer to that edge without ever toppling over. Logan’s mouth opened as if to respond, but the sensation was too much, and a deep, guttural moan escaped instead. The tension in his gut, the way he strained to keep himself in check and the sound vibrating between them, a confession of pleasure that made E’s desire burn even hotter.

They could feel his heart pounding beneath their palm, and it mirrored the quickening beat of their own. Their fingers threaded through his hair, tugging just enough to keep him grounded, as they continued to grind against him, every shift of their body an exquisite torture. The way his hardness pressed against them, pulsing with barely contained need, made them moan softly, their own body betraying the pleasure that built with each teasing movement.

“See how easy it is when you behave?” E murmured, their breath hot against his ear, the words a seductive challenge. The power they had over him, the way he trembled under their control, sent a heady thrill coursing through them. Every roll of their hips seemed to ignite a new wave of pleasure, a slow burn that made their body ache for more.

Logan’s fingers dug deeper into their hips, holding them steady as they moved against him, and his mind went blissfully blank for a moment, lost in the heat of their shared desire. He wasn’t used to being this… helpless, under someone else’s control. But with them, it felt right. Every time they touched him, it was like electricity surging through his veins, and the tension coiling in his stomach told him he wouldn’t be able to resist much longer.

“Doin’ my best,” he managed, voice strained and punctuated by a low grunt. His admission sent a rush of exhilaration through E, their eyes gleaming as they leaned closer.

“I can tell,” they praised, their voice laced with approval. “You’re being so good for me, pet. Almost too good…” The words were a balm, feeding the spark in him and pushing them both further into the intoxicating dance of control and surrender.

The tension between them mounted, the charged silence broken only by their labored breathing and the subtle creak of the bed beneath them. E’s hips rolled with a calculated grace, drawing out Logan’s low, ragged groans, each sound setting their nerves aflame. But just as he felt himself sinking deeper into the heady warmth of the moment, something shifted.

E’s horns brushed against his forehead, the subtle curve pressing against his skin and reminding him of the power they held in that instant, the lengths of their desire manifested in those growing, otherworldly marks. The contact pulled him back just enough to let the awareness seep in—a stark reminder of who commanded the rhythm, who held the reins. It sent a shiver down his spine, and E could feel it, could sense the way his body reacted to every touch, every brush of their power. The energy between them was buzzing, a current that hummed in the space where their bodies met. Logan's struggle for control, the heat radiating off his skin, the primal urge that simmered just beneath the surface of his restraint—E felt it all and it fed that bottomless hunger like nothing ever did before.

Their own body was alight with sensation. Each time their hips rolled, the pressure building between their thighs sent waves of pleasure coursing through them. They could feel Logan’s hardness pressing against them, a constant, delicious reminder of the effect they had on him. His pulse, quick and erratic, mirrored the rapid beat of their own, and the heat between them seemed to intensify with every breath. E's skin felt fevered, their muscles tensing as the ache inside them grew.

They leaned back slightly, their eyes glowing with a mixture of amusement and lust as they watched him. Logan's expression—equal parts frustration and need—was intoxicating. His eyes were dark with desire, his jaw clenched in an effort to keep himself together, and it only fueled the fire inside them. Every subtle shift of his body, every twitch of his muscles beneath their weight, was like a symphony of sensations that thrummed through them.

“You’re doing so well, pretty boy,” they purred, the words slipping from their lips like velvet as their hips rolled slowly against him. The friction between them was maddening, drawing a low moan from E as the tension coiled tighter between their legs. Their breath hitched, heart pounding as waves of pleasure surged through them, and the control they held over him only magnified the sensations. “Gods, I could so get used to this…” His need pulsed through the air—heady, addictive—and each groan he released sent jolts of pleasure straight to their cunt.

Logan let out a shaky breath, his pulse thundering in his ears. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to growl in frustration or groan in surrender. But the way E looked at him—like they were ready to devour him—the way they moved with slow, deliberate rhythm, each soft moan heightening the tension, it did things to him he wasn’t ready to admit. The way they commanded every second, reading every flicker of his desire with practiced ease, left him reeling.

“I can feel how much you’re enjoying this,” E murmured, their fingers threading through his hair before tugging it back lightly, forcing his head to tilt up. The sharp motion sent a shiver of pleasure through them both, a gasp slipping from E’s lips as they drank in his response. The tautness of his muscles under their touch, the way his body yielded, made their own body hum with anticipation. “I can feel everything, Logan.”

His breath caught, eyes locking with theirs, pupils blown wide. “Everything.” The tingling heat of their touch, the unsteady tremor in his breathing, the desperate coil of need tightening in his gut—they felt it all. It wasn’t often that someone had him this vulnerable, completely at their mercy, yet here they were, owning every second of it, of him. That awareness, the knowledge of how easily they could push him to the brink, sent a fresh wave of arousal surging through them. Their walls clenched, aching for release, but they held back, savoring the power of his submission, relishing how wholly he was theirs in that moment.

The air between them crackled with tension, their bodies charged and trembling with desire. E could feel Logan’s restraint slipping further with each heartbeat. Every breath, every touch, was another piece of his resolve that crumbled beneath their hands.

“Maybe I should reward you,” they said, inhaling the scent of his sweat in the crook of his neck. It mingled with their own, and a shiver ran through them both as they felt how drenched with arousal they were. “Tell me, pet,” E whispered, their lips so close they almost brushed his, “Tell me what you want.”

Logan swallowed hard, his pulse quickening even further. Admitting what he wanted wasn’t easy, especially as someone who was used to being in control. But with E, the dynamic shifted. He didn’t just want them—he needed them. And the way they were teasing him made that need nearly unbearable.

His voice came out rough, barely above a whisper. “I want you…” He swallowed again, his throat dry. “All of you.”

E’s eyes darkened, a slow, dangerous smile curving their lips. "Oh, you will, pet," they promised, grinding harder against him for a few seconds. Their hands found purchase on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as their power seeped into the room, surrounding him like a heavy, intoxicating fog.

"But first… you're going to wait. Let’s see if you can keep following the rules."

Logan’s eyes narrowed, frustration and raw need mingling in his gaze. His hands slid up their sides, fingertips grazing the bare skin just above their waistline beneath their shirt. The urge to flip them over, to take control, clawed at him, but he held back—barely.

“Ah, ah, careful now,” they warned, their voice a soft, teasing melody. “I said you could touch, but let’s not get greedy, pet.”

Logan swallowed again, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The way they called him pet made his blood run hot, his steady composure fracturing as his breath hitched. He couldn’t decide whether to be frustrated or completely enthralled, but he was leaning dangerously toward the latter.

“I ain’t greedy,” he rasped, though he wasn’t sure if that was true. His grip eased, just a fraction, not wanting to overstep. E’s smirk deepened, sensing the battle within him—the push and pull of his restraint.

No?” they hummed, their lips ghosting over his jawline, fingers trailing down his chest to rest just above the waistband of his pants. “Then what’s this, pretty boy?” Their palm pressed against his lower abdomen, making him feel the undeniable evidence of his desire, burning inside him like a wildfire, consuming every shred of resolve. Logan exhaled sharply, his breath ragged.

"You think you can keep me under control all night?" he growled, his voice laced with challenge, fighting to hold onto his composure.

E’s eyes glittered with amusement as their hand slid down to the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to where he throbbed with need. "Oh, I know I can, pretty boy," they whispered, their lips brushing against his ear. "The real question is, how long can you last before you beg?"

Logan’s pulse spiked, the heat of their body and the weight of their words seeping into his bones. The teasing, the control, the way they held him in the palm of their hand—it was maddening. And yet, as E continued to push him to the brink, a part of him knew he’d already lost this game.

Because damn it, he was so close to begging, and they both knew it. Instead, he let out a frustrated growl. E tilted their head, the smirk on their lips unfading as they leaned in closer. They ran the tip of their tongue along his jawline, teasing the skin through his beard. “Oh, cute pup’,” they purred, their hands slipping beneath his t-shirt to explore the firm muscles beneath. “There’s so much more I want to teach you.”

Logan’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening around their hips, desperate for any semblance of control. “What more d’you want, huh?” he rasped, voice heavy with desire and frustration.

They chuckled, the sound vibrating against his skin. “You’re good, pretty boy,” they said, their voice soft yet commanding. “But you’ll have to find out what makes me tick on your own.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, battling the mix of pride and raw need coursing through him. The words weighed on his tongue, unfamiliar and vulnerable. “Can I…” He hesitated, then swallowed, forcing himself to speak, his voice low and rough. “Can I make you feel good?”

Their lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as they combed their fingers through his hair, the touch both tender and possessive. “Oh, but you already are, sweetie,” they murmured, their long horns grazing his forehead, an intimate, almost claiming gesture. “You make me feel good already, pretty boy.”

The sound of their words, coupled with the gentle touch, sent a shiver down Logan’s spine. His heart thudded, barely contained by his ribs. But he pushed further, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can I make you feel even better?” The question was edged with challenge, his eyes meeting theirs with a hunger that dared to reclaim some control.

Their body quivered at his words, a flash of something dangerous and wanting flickering in their gaze. “What do you have in mind, cutie?” they asked, voice sultry with a hint of playful defiance.

He paused only a moment, then let his eyes drift purposefully to their chest. “What about your tits?” he growled, voice thick with need.

A low, mischievous laugh escaped them, their body trembling slightly. “What about them, pet?” they teased, meeting his eyes with that daring smirk, inviting him to continue.

Logan’s grin widened, the heat between them simmering to a boil. “Want me to touch them?”

Without hesitation, they released their hold on him, their fingers deftly unbuttoning their pajama shirt to reveal the soft, inviting curves he’d been aching to touch. “Here they are, pretty boy,” they said, their voice teasing but their eyes betraying their own hunger. “Go ahead.”

The sight was overwhelming. More beautiful than he had imagined, they took his breath away. His hand reached out, cupping one breast gently, the warmth and softness under his palm sending a rush of pleasure through him. His fingers traced the curve of their dark skin, savoring the moment as his heartbeat thundered. His touch trembled slightly as he succumbed to the temptation, feeling the weight of them, the heat searing through his skin.

The moment his hand made contact, E gasped softly, the rough, calloused texture of his skin brushing over their sensitive flesh sending a shiver down their spine and settling as heat in their core. Warmth bloomed under his touch, spreading like fire through their chest and making their breath hitch. Their nipples hardened beneath his fingers, tension coiling deep in their belly with each slow, deliberate caress. His touch, though reverent and slightly hesitant, radiated such raw desire that it left them craving more.

Before he could fully lose himself in the sensation, they grabbed his jaw firmly, pulling his gaze back to theirs. The sudden dominance of the gesture sent a thrill through him, unraveling what little control he had left. Perfect. The feeling of power—holding him in check while their own body trembled with anticipation—was intoxicating.

“New rule, pup,” they commanded, their tone hard, though edged with a tremor of pleasure. “Address me properly from now on.”

Logan’s throat was dry, and his voice wavered beneath the weight of their piercing stare. “And how should I call you?” he managed, the words slipping out in a haze of want and tension.

A gleam of mischief lit their eyes. “I know you can come up with something creative,” they taunted, halting the grinding of their hips that had been torturing him. “Need a moment for that brain of yours to catch up?” Their smile was vicious, teasing, making his stomach clench.

A deep, guttural groan tore from his throat, heavy with need. They sighed contentedly, savoring his frustration as their horns brushed against his forehead again. “Damn, you’re so tasty,” they purred, voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Don’t stop,” Logan whispered, his brows knitting as he fought the edge of desperation, his tone nearing a plea. He was slipping, teetering on the brink as the tension roiled inside him.

“If you want me to start again,” they murmured, their breath warm and tantalizing against his ear, sending a shiver through him, “you need to ask me properly, pretty boy.”

His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, desire pulsing hot and insistent between his legs. “Please,” he rasped, the single word raw with need, “don’t stop.”

Their grip on his jaw tightened slightly, and they rolled their hips only once, pulling a groan from deep within him. “Please, who?” they demanded, mock anger in their tone, amusement glinting in their eyes as they continued the game.

Logan’s mind struggled to form words, pleasure clouding his thoughts. “Please… Angel, don’t stop.”

The word escaped before he could catch it. It didn’t make any sense—everything about them screamed devil: the teasing cruelty, the glint of wicked delight in their gaze. The memory of their true form flickered at the edge of his mind, the one hidden behind their current guise. They looked every bit the demon, even with their feathered wings. And yet, the sensations they drew from him were divine, as if they were an angel in disguise, mighty and gracious in their power over him. It felt sacred, the way they owned him completely in this moment.

They paused, eyes glinting with satisfaction as they considered the name. “Angel, huh?” they mused, letting the word roll off their tongue with a hint of amusement. “I can see the appeal.” Their grin widened as they leaned down, lips brushing tantalizingly close to his, toeing the line of their agreement. “I accept your gift,” they purred, eyes sparkling with pleasure as they resumed the slow, torturous grind against him.

Logan groaned, heat surging through him again, but he bit back any words, knowing that speaking out might make them stop. His control was hanging by a thread, and they knew it, exploiting his desperation with deliberate care.

“Oh, you’re such a good pup,” they praised, fingers tangling in his hair as they pressed his face against their chest. “Now, be a good boy and lick.”

He obeyed without hesitation, breath catching as his lips met the warmth of their skin. He moved slowly at first, savoring every reaction they gave—the soft gasps, the low moans that deepened with each touch. The slight taste of salt on their skin was overwhelming, heightening his senses. His tongue teased around the peak of their breast, circling before flicking against it, and their hand tightened in his hair, urging him on.

“Good boy,” they whispered, their voice thick with pleasure. The praise shot through him like a jolt, making his body hum with satisfaction. His right hand continued to knead their other breast, fingers firm but reverent, as though discovering them for the first time. E's body responded in waves, every nerve alight with sensation. The warmth of his breath against their skin sent shivers down their spine, each flick of his tongue drawing a gasp that seemed to echo in their chest. Their skin burned hot under his touch, each teasing pass of his mouth and fingers leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Their hips shifted the pace to a teasing rhythm once more, a slow, torturous grind that kept them both suspended on the edge of desperation. They felt the heat pooling low in their abdomen, building with each subtle movement. The throbbing ache between their thighs intensified, every shift of their hips against him creating friction that sent jolts of pleasure sparking through their veins. Their pulse quickened, a steady drumbeat that matched the feverish thrum of need coursing through them.

Logan’s composure was slipping fast. The need coursing through him was relentless, but he focused on their sounds, the way they shivered under his touch. He wanted more—wanted to push them over the edge as he teetered on the brink himself. His lips moved with more urgency, tongue tracing intricate patterns over their sensitive skin, while his left hand gripped their waist tighter, pulling them closer until there was no space between them.

E's head fell back, moans spilling from their lips with less restraint now, each one resonating through their body like a pulse of lightning. Their heart raced as heat spread over their skin, a blissful tension coiling tighter and tighter in their core. They tugged harder at his hair, and Logan couldn’t stop the low growl that rumbled from his chest, vibrating against their skin. The sound sent another wave of arousal crashing through them, making their thighs tremble and their breath catch. The feel of him, the relentless attention, was pushing them closer to surrender.

“You make me feel so damn good,” E whimpered, their voice a breathless symphony of need as their grinding slightly picked up pace. The words came out fractured, barely held together by the trembling need overtaking them. “Such a good boy for me…”

Logan’s left arm around their waist tightened, his own body straining as the tension between them grew unbearable. He felt the heat radiating from them, the dampness between their thighs seeping through his sweatpants, teasing him relentlessly. E felt his muscles tense against their skin, and the knowledge that he was holding back, that he was still focused solely on their pleasure, sent a heady rush through them. They moved against him with more urgency now, the friction stoking the fire within them until it was nearly too much to bear.

They were so close, the coiling heat inside them threatening to snap, but they weren’t ready to give in just yet. A wicked smile played on their lips as they adjusted the rhythm once more, pulling back a bit, making him wait. The tension was exquisite, each lazy roll of their hips drawing out the anticipation, prolonging the aching bliss. The slow, controlled movements sent deep, simmering waves of pleasure rolling through them, enough to make both their entire bodies pulse with need but not enough to push them over the edge. E was toying with the both of them—he knew it and it only spurred him on.

Despite the low rhythm, their breaths were turning ragged, their heart racing as the pleasure teetered on the edge of too much. Sparks of heat shot through their limbs, making their thighs shake with every subtle shift against him. Each pulse of friction sent shudders racing up their spine, and they bit down on their lip to hold back the cries that threatened to spill over. Logan’s heart pounded in his chest as he felt them holding onto the edge, deliberately stalling the fall, savoring every second of it. His lips and fingers moved faster now, more insistent, drawing out sharper moans from E as their control wavered. The way he touched them, the relentless press of his mouth against their skin, nearly shattered their resolve.

“Logan,” they gasped, their hips stuttering against him, the rhythm faltering as the need surged. A heady, electric sensation washed over them, pooling at their core and spreading like wildfire. Their breaths came in quick, shallow bursts, and the moans that followed were unrestrained, raw, laced with the desperation of wanting and almost having. They teetered on the edge, the build-up so intense it left them breathless, each muscle in their body tensed with anticipation.

He felt the shift—breaths quickening, moans sharper, more desperate—felt how close they were to losing control, and it only stoked the fire burning inside him. The heat radiating from their body, the way they gripped at his hair and shoulders, grounding themselves in him, made him ache in the most exhilarating way.

“Don’t stop,” they begged, their voice shaking with need, and Logan couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. He was barely holding onto control, wavering dangerously, but knowing he was the one unraveling them, pushing them to the edge—it was intoxicating. It was all for him, and he didn’t want to stop. The realization surged through him, mingling pride with a deep, consuming desire.

With a tighter roll of their hips and his name a strangled cry of pleasure on their lips, he felt them come undone in his arms, shattering. E’s body tensed against his, the climax hitting them hard like a wave crashing over rocks. The heat burst from within them, rippling through every inch of their body in a rush of ecstasy so intense it left them gasping. Their moans filled his ears, a symphony of release that seemed to echo in the room. Their fingers dug into his skin, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping them grounded, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

Logan held them through it, his hands never straying from their body, his lips still teasing against their skin, drawing out their pleasure as long as he could. The feel of their heartbeat racing against his, the shivers still coursing through their body, made his own restraint fray at the edges.

He watched them, heat swirling through his veins, captivated as they came down from their high. They were utterly breathtaking, and he swore he’d never seen anything more perfect in his life. Their breathing was still uneven, their body trembling against him as aftershocks made them shudder. The sight of them, warm and satisfied, their skin still glowing with the aftermath, drove Logan wild, but he held himself back, his own release simmering just beneath the surface, a barely contained storm.

E’s eyes fluttered open, their lashes heavy with the dazed warmth of fulfillment, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across their face. They looked at him, gaze heavy-lidded, eyes glistening with affection and teasing mischief. Logan felt his heart stutter in his chest as they reached for him, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the gentleness of their touch a stark contrast to the intensity moments before.

“Here’s my good boy,” they whispered, their voice soft, warm, laced with playful praise. They stroked his hair gently, the grip now soothing, calming the storm within him with just a touch as they leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek. The tender affection seared through him, making his chest ache in the best way.

Logan’s lips twitched into a grin, his breath still uneven as he nuzzled against their chest, inhaling their scent, feeling the soft, rapid thrum of their heartbeat against his cheek. The praise and gentle affection threatened to ignite him all over again. But this time, there was something different in the air between them—something softer, more intimate. The way they looked at him, the way their body still pressed against his, made it clear this wasn’t over. Not yet.

“You did good, pup,” E whispered, their voice soft but commanding as they gazed down at him. “But there’s one more thing I need from you.” They leaned in closer, their breath ghosting over the shell of his ear, sending a shiver racing down his spine. “It’s time for your reward.”

Logan’s breath hitched, his entire body taut with anticipation. The weight of their words, steeped in promise, made his pulse thunder. The room seemed to shrink, filled only with the warmth of their shared breath and the heat between them. He felt their hand slide into his pants, fingers wrapping around him, firm and deliberate. The sudden contact drew a sharp gasp from his lips, and his muscles tensed, caught between the pull of pleasure and the urge to submit.

“Now, be a good boy… and come for me,” they commanded, their voice low and teasing as their hand worked its rhythm with exquisite precision. Logan’s eyes squeezed shut, head tilting back as the coil of tension inside him wound tighter, every nerve ending sparking with anticipation. His hands clutched their waist, grounding himself as his control began to splinter.

Their free arm wrapped over his shoulder, sliding inside his shirt, fingers grazing down his back, scratching just enough to keep him on edge. The sensation sent a hot, rolling shiver through him, feeding into the pleasure building in waves that crashed over and over, relentless.

A low, guttural sound escaped his throat—a mix of desperation and surrender—and E smiled, taking in the way he quaked under their touch. That was it. That was the push he needed. The world blurred as the tension finally snapped, his release tearing through him with a force that left him gasping, his head pressing against their chest, body trembling in the aftershocks.

They held him close, fingers weaving through his hair with soothing strokes, grounding him as he floated through the haze. “Such a pretty boy when you come for me,” they murmured, their voice thick with satisfaction and affection. “You did so well… so good for me.”

Logan’s heart pounded, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as their words seeped into him like warmth on a cold day. Each praise, each gentle touch, resonated within him, layering pride atop the deep contentment settling in his bones. And with that pride came a deep, unspoken joy—joy that he had given them pleasure, that they had rewarded him so sweetly.

He stayed there, face nestled against their chest, the gentle thrum of their heartbeat filling his ears. Their presence enveloped him, easing the tension, leaving only a blissful peace. And with every whispered word of praise, Logan found himself anchored, sinking into the comfort they offered, drinking in the sweet words they whispered, heart and mind both wholly theirs.

Logan took a few moments to catch his breath, his cheek resting against the softness of E’s chest, feeling the steady beat of their heart begin to slow beneath him. It filled him with a sense of completeness he hadn’t realized he was yearning for until now. How long had he waited for this? For someone like them?

This had started as just a game, a way to satisfy their mutual needs, but now, something deeper stirred within him. A part buried beneath his rugged exterior craved more. The soft praise E whispered as their fingers stroked through his hair began to blur the line between reality and fantasy. Maybe this wasn’t just play. Maybe they were an angel, sent to pull him from his shadows. Maybe it was his purpose to devote himself to them, to earn their approval with everything he had.

Their hand moved to cradle his cheek, the tender touch sending a shiver down his spine. “You look so pretty when you make a mess for me,” they murmured, their voice dripping with affection. The words hit him square in the chest, filling cracks that had been empty for so long with warmth and pride.

“Thanks, Angel,” he whispered, his voice rough but laced with sincerity. E’s smile deepened, hunger still glinting in their eyes but softened, satisfied.

“Thank you, puppy,” they purred, their voice thick with contentment. “You did really good.”

The way they said those words, with a mixture of tenderness and command, made Logan’s chest tighten with something more profound than desire. He was intoxicated by their praise, the feeling of being seen and cherished in a way he hadn’t experienced in years, if ever. Instinctively, he reached up and cupped their cheek with a large, calloused hand, brushing his thumb gently over their skin. The urge to kiss them tugged at him, a magnetic pull that he almost couldn’t resist.

But as his lips began to tingle, raw energy flowing from his throat to reach E’s mouth, the memory of their agreement, the contract they’d both set, came crashing back. No kissing. No crossing that dangerous, fragile line that kept him safe from the pull of their power. If they went there, it would come with serious consequences and end their partnership. The thought of losing this, losing them, was more than he could bear. So instead, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to their cheek, just shy of their lips, his breath warm against their skin.

E sighed, a sound full of contentment, and relaxed into him. They felt it—the first seed of worship taking root within him, a devotion that surpassed simple physical desire. It was one of the most potent emotions they could absorb, second only to raw life energy. The sensation brought them a joy deeper than satisfaction, a joy so profound they could stay in this moment forever, wrapped in Logan’s warmth and reverence.

Neither of them moved, savoring the shared silence and the way their heartbeats gradually fell in sync. But after a moment, E felt the telltale pinpricks in their legs, a subtle reminder that even moments like this needed to end. They leaned in, pressing one last kiss to Logan’s cheek before shifting to leave his lap. His hand shot out instinctively, fingers curling around their wrist, tugging them back toward him.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you, pretty boy?” E teased, a sly smile playing on their lips.

Logan’s eyes softened, his expression unguarded as he met their gaze. “No,” he admitted, voice low and unashamed. “You’re addictive.”

A quiet laugh escaped E as they began buttoning up their shirt, fingers moving with a casual grace. Their touch shifted, a gentle caress to his cheek, the warmth of it lingering like an unspoken promise. “Get cleaned up,” they said, the affection in their tone unmistakable.

Logan nodded, a hint of reluctance in his eyes. He watched as E stepped away, a shadow moving gracefully across the dimly lit room. Only when they were out of sight did he stand, the space suddenly feeling emptier, lacking the magnetic energy they brought with them. Mechanically, he made his way to the bathroom, washing up and changing into clean pants, his mind replaying every whispered word and touch.

The quiet of the room wrapped around him as he settled under the covers, switching off the light before checking his phone. The time glowed back at him—1:57 a.m. His mind spun, replaying how E had held him under their control for nearly two hours, bending him to their will until they chose to yield. He sighed, a mixture of contentment and the ache of yearning filling his chest as he let his eyes drift shut.

A soft click echoed in the hallway, and the familiar, intoxicating scent of them reached him moments before the quiet creak of his door. Logan’s eyes snapped open, and he propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see E slip inside, moving like a shadow until they were at the edge of his bed.

A deep sense of peace bloomed in his chest, spreading warmth through his veins. “You want more?” he asked, the smile evident in his voice even in the dark.

They chuckled, the sound rich and teasing. “Came back for dessert,” they murmured, sliding under the covers and shifting closer to him. Their arm found its way over his waist, their leg intertwining with his, and their tail wrapped snugly around his thigh. The contact drew a shiver from him, and Logan pulled them closer, his arm curling around their shoulders as they fit against his side.

Both of them exhaled in tandem, the room settling into a peaceful silence once more.

“Goodnight, pup,” E said, the amusement in their voice hinting at the contentment beneath it.

“Goodnight, Angel,” Logan replied, voice softened with a mix of affection and relief.

They fell asleep like that, wrapped in warmth and each other’s presence, neither needing anything more than the quiet reassurance of the other at their side.

To be continued…

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