#this is not my usual writing style so it was a challenge but also v fun

[azaisya]

in which i get enough of my curufinrod thoughts together to write 1k words about it. featuring the aftermath of the messiest breakup ever, finrod's inability to be chill about the bëorians, and curufin's inability to be chill. [ao3]

The door to the King’s chambers yielded before his hand as easily as it ever had, and Curufin’s voice filled the familiar space like the cracking of ice beneath their feet. “Art thou mad?”

Finrod’s answering laugh was fey and wild. His temper was still upon him, his mind closed, and the light in his eyes was the light of the King of Nargothrond, for all that the silver crown gleamed not at his brow. “I? ‘Tis the madness of thine own tongue, Curufinwë, that has turned our people’s hearts against my hopes. If I am mad, it is only because thou hast left me no other path.”

They were alone. Finrod had sent his meager ten with Beren to prepare. Curufin closed the distance between them, kicking aside supplies half-packed, unflinching from the anger in those grey eyes. “Thou let’st thy fondness for the Secondborn blind thee to what is before thy nose.”

Felagund did not back away, though their faces were close enough that their breath mingled between them. His lip curled into a snarl, canines flashing in the candlelight. “Thou hast spoken enough already! Insult me again, and thou wilt not have the chance to do so a third time.”

[keep reading on ao3]

Curufin’s fury kindled, but he kept his mien cold and still with his will alone. How many times must he be reminded that he was the lesser, that their long years of closeness, their youth together, their quarrels and love, were nothing compared to Felagund’s infatuation with these mortals and their mayfly-quick lives. For the briefest of heartbeats, further poison gathered on the tip of his tongue. In his mind’s eye, he saw Felagund pushed further into wrath, saw the wild flame of his eyes. Would he draw his blade, as Fëanor once had against Fingolfin? Or would he close his bare hands about Curufin’s throat?

Felagund so loved to pretend at placidity, at gentleness, but his anger slumbered ever beneath those still waters. It shone, as bright as the summer blaze of his joy, and it was real. Curufin loved Finrod most when he was real.

The temptation was there. Curufin knew he could do it. But he did not insult Beren, or Barahir, or even Bëor. He said, cool, “Thou knowest that this was ever a fool’s journey, even hadst thou managed to rouse an army. The gates of Morgoth will not yield before the likes of thee.”

“Perhaps!” Felagund’s voice was sweet with rage. “But now we shall never know.”

Curufin’s eyes narrowed. “Thou wilt walk into doom for some mortal’s flight of passion, for Thingol’s whim?”

The back of Felagund’s fingers brushed, feather soft, against Curufin’s cheek. The touch was alight with the memory of thousands of other caresses, alive with the danger between them. His grey eyes were full of something unspeakable. “Wilt thou grieve for me, Curvo?”

It was the last thing that Curufin had expected. He flinched backwards, his mind unfurling, and beneath his anger his terror was laid bare.

“Ah,” Felagund said, the barest exhale. Gone was the might and majesty of the King, and in his absence there was only Finrod, small and pained and full of sorrow. “Thou wilt.”

“I’ve no desire to,” Curufin hissed. It did not matter whether he was met with softness or hardness; he could do nothing but arm himself with knives. “I desire naught but for thee to come to thy senses and abandon this futile quest.”

Finrod did not snap back. It would’ve been better if he had. He laughed, the sound soft and bitter and private. “I see! I had thought— Well, it does not matter what I had thought. Thy schemes have done naught but set my doom in stone, Curvo mine.”

The terrible thing was the way his small-name sounded on Finrod’s tongue: as tender as the press of lips against his neck, as solemn as the light of stars reflected in grey eyes, as laden with love as it ever was.

Curufin, rather abruptly, was forced to realize two things: Finrod did not love anything by halves, even now, and the love did not matter. 

Perhaps he should’ve realized that long ago.

“There is nothing I can say to change thy mind,” Curufin murmured, before he could think better of it. Unable to meet Finrod’s eyes any longer, he looked at the supplies scattered about the bed, the floor. He had not packed enough food. 

“There never was.” Gentle, gentle, as ever. From Curufin, it would’ve been a blade sharp enough to pierce the heart. From Finrod, it was just the truth. “I swore an oath to Barahir and his kin—”

Curufin’s hands fisted beneath his sleeves. “Do not speak to me of oaths.”

“—but I need no oath to compel me to Beren son of Barahir. I am bound to the House of Bëor by my own will.” The weight of Finrod’s gaze was a nearly physical thing, prickling across Curufin’s skin and sending shivers down his spine. He still did not look up. 

Finrod resumed his packing, haphazardly throwing things into his bag. One of his men would need to repack it for him. Curufin watched the quicksilver grace of his movements, the careless turn of his head. It should’ve been insulting, that Finrod thought so little of Curufin’s danger that he paid him no heed. But perhaps they simply knew each other too well for that. 

“I will not guard thy crown for you,” Curufin said, “Thou art dooming thyself and thy kingdom both.”

“Nargothrond is strong, when she is not sipping from thy cup of lies,” Finrod replied, and there, like the sun between clouds, was the splintered remnant of his anger. It was a weak thing now, muted by the helplessness between them, but not dead yet. “I’ve faith enough in Orodreth.”

Curufin sneered. “Yet more madness.”

“It is done, Curvo. There is no path for me but forward.”

There are many more paths than forward for thee, Curufin nearly snapped, but he made the mistake of meeting Finrod’s eyes. 

They were bright with treelight, with love, with doom. 

Curufin’s breath caught in his chest. He had no foresight to speak of, but he knew that this was the last time he’d see those eyes. 

Finrod smiled and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Farewell, Curvo. I hope I haunt thee.”

Curufin was helpless to do anything but watch him leave. 

[hoshifighting]

haiii,, this is my first time requesting anything from a fic writer but ive been binging your fics like all week and i loveeee your writing style!! I know you've previously written seventeen impact play but i was wondering if you had any thoughts about impact play with sub!svt...

(personal opinion and also kinda biased but I think slapping chan or mingyu across the face would be- EXPLODSION NOISES)

((also if this ask makes you uncomfy plz feel free to ignore it ,, ty for the fics <333 !!))

impact play with sub!seventeen

WARNINGS: smut, impact play

seungcheol: sub!seungcheol is a sight to behold imo. the man who’s always in charge loves handing over to you st some point of your relationship. but don't think that he'll be all cute, this man will be little shit, challenging you at first “harder,” he grits through his teeth, his knuckles pale as he grips the headboard. but the second you leave a red mark across his thighs, he’s melting, moaning louder than usual. he’s the type to thank you after every smack after you 'put him in his place'.

jeonghan: will tease you until you actually follow through. “oh, what are you gonna do?/are you going to do it?” when your palm meets his skin, he’s arching into your touch with a soft drawn-out moan. “okay, okay!” he whimpers, trying to save face even as he's almost cumming there.

joshua: he's so obedient it’s almost unfair. he’ll kneel at your feet, hands behind his back, looking up at you with wide pleading eyes. “is this okay?” you ask before the first strike lands, but the soft gasp he lets out tells you he’s more than okay. he’ll squirm, biting his lip to hold back his moans, but by the third or fourth hit, he’s gone, whining, “please… just one more, i can take it.”

junhui: a such a slut for it, let’s be real. he’ll lie across your lap, wiggling his hips and grinning back at you. “don’t go easy on me, okay?” he says, and you almost fold as you look at his eyes that are full of trust. every smack pulls a delicious little moan from his lips,

hoshi: he’ll flop down dramatically, draping himself across the bed like he’s starring in his own m/v. “dont feel sorry for me,” he giggles, when your hand meets his ass—is not even a harsh slap, his laughter turns into the sweetest whimpers. he’ll bury his face in the pillow.

woozi: he's not the loudest sub, but his reactions are everything. he’ll bite his lip, muffling the soft groans that slip out as you leave red streaks across his soft ass. his hands clench at the sheets, his thighs squeezed together as he feels his cock get harder and harder with each slap.

wonwoo: he's the type that will try to hide how horny he is, but by the third strike, his head falls back, moaning as he fists his hands on the sheets. he would def buy a paddle, especially for him (or buy even matching ones, with a heart shape <3)

minghao: he’ll stretch out for you, offering himself with an sleek smirk. “make it count.” he says. his body archs beautifully, he didn't pretend to try it again, he thought it would be a one-time thing, but he liked, it more than he will ever say to you.

mingyu: the loudest little whimpering mess you’ve ever seen. every smack has him shaking, “oh my god, i—i want to cum… please, baby, don’t stop.” his cheeks are flushed, his eyes full of tears, and he’s absolutely soaking up every ounce of attention you’re giving him.

seokmin: a softie, even as a sub. he’ll flinch with the first strike, letting out a surprised little gasp, but then he softens under your touch, his body going pliant. “does it look bad?” he asks nervously, glancing over his shoulder, but when you reassure him, he’s blushing and smiling through the next smack. “oh, that’s—okay, yeah, that’s good. i like that.”

seungkwan: brattiest sub in the world, hands down. he’ll whine and complain, when your hand actually lands on him, he’s gasping and burying his face in the pillow to not give you the taste of his contorted-in-pleasure-face. “okay, okay, i’m sorry,” he whimpers, his voice muffled as you pull his head by the hair. by the next smack, he’s moaning, “just one more? i promise i’ll be good this time.”

vernon: he’ll clench his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut, he will be really whiny at the end—and will probably ask for an aftercare after. his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his thighs tense, trying to not look so affected, but when you used the combo impact play + dirty talk, he will almost liquefy in your hands.

chan: the sweetest, eager to please even as you take control. “should I arch more?” he asks nervously, glancing up at you before the first smack lands. but the second it does, his eyes go wide, and a shaky little moan escapes him. “oh—oh my god, s'good!” he stammers, his cheeks flushing deep red. toward the end, he’s clinging to you.

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Masterlist

Din Djarin x f!reader | 18+ | ~40k words | updates on Wednesdays main masterlist | ao3

summary: When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

full fic tags/warnings (spoilers!): modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

a/n: welcome to the Din ballet fic!! I started writing this in April and it’s finally finished! I’ll post a new chapter every Wednesday, there are 14 total. There’s some smut coming but it’ll be a while, folks. See my notes below about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!! This fic is so much better because of you. 🧡 And thank you to @almostfoxglove for reading over it and confirming I didn't forget all my ballet, lol. 🩰

note about reader: in this fic you’re a ballet dancer, first soloist at Nevarro Ballet Theater company. I haven’t mentioned the reader’s body size or shape (or hair) basically at all, even to the point of avoiding clothing (except for costumes), but I understand the image that goes along with ballet – I danced for almost 20 years. Din does lift you many times. Please feel free to picture whatever you want, but I know that this might seem more limited. You also have a best friend named Adrian who is in the company with you. I never specified age, but to make first soloist most would be in at least their early 20s. Din is 27.

Chapter list and notes about ballet under the cut! Comment or reblog to join the tag list. 🥰🩰

Chapter List

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

** Bonus: Amazing art of Din by @kenobiwanx!! **

Chapter 13

Chapter 14 - coming Wed 1/15

...

some notes about ballet: I will share links to videos and such as much as possible, but here are some definitions to get us started – principal, (first) soloist, corps de ballet, variation, and class vs. rehearsal:

Principal - this is the highest level a dancer (of any gender) can reach in a company. Dancers are ‘promoted’ through the ranks. Principals usually have exceptional technique and artistry and can perform solos, pas de deux (partnering), headlining and/or the most challenging roles, etc. (e.g., the white (Odette) and black (Odile) swans in Swan Lake, both usually performed by one principal). Sometimes dancers are hired directly in as principals (like Din, in this fic). Smaller companies might have 5-6 principals, while larger ones could have as many as 20. Nevarro is somewhere between medium and large and has around 14 principals, including Din.

First Soloist - not every company has this rank, but it’s in between principal and soloist. Nevarro has 4 but they are counted among the soloists (12-14ish total). Soloists are often understudies for larger parts, and first soloists would do the same. In this fic reader is a first soloist, just promoted at the start of the season.

Soloist - this is sort of a middle level, for dancers who are doing very well and have proven themselves capable of taking on bigger roles. Many ballets have multiple roles, including supporting roles in the narrative, for soloists and principals to showcase many dancers’ talents. A smaller company might have 5-6 soloists, and a larger company might have as many as 20. (Larger companies also do more shows.) Nevarro is somewhere between medium and large and has around 12-14 soloists, including first soloists.

Corps de ballet - this is the lowest/starting level in a company. It’s where most would start from and has the largest number of dancers – these are the dancers who come out on stage in large groups or form the background unnamed roles in narrative scenes (like a party). Reader started in the corps and was promoted to soloist and then first soloist.

Variation - a solo dance, usually a piece from a larger ballet (e.g., the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker). We say ‘variation’ because there are many ballets that have been choreographed differently by multiple people in the ballet world (e.g., there are famous versions of the Nutcracker by Petipa, Gorsky, Balanchine, Nureyev, Baryshnikov… and more). So there can be multiple variations of a solo from a single ballet, and more can be created or altered, etc. But in general the term just means solo.

Class vs. rehearsal - most companies distinguish between ‘class’ and ‘rehearsal’. Class is for the whole company and focused on improving technique. It’s quick and often repetitive and everyone sort of knows what to do. Most people would have ‘their’ spot at the barre and fall into a typical order for going across the floor. After class, most would go into multiple hours of rehearsal, PT, strength training, etc., depending on whether it was a performance day or not. Most companies are rehearsing for more than one performance at a time, so they might have a longer rehearsal for the show coming up this or next weekend, and a shorter one for another performance a bit farther away. But in the days leading up to a show, that show’s rehearsals would probably take over. This can vary by company. On show days, most would have fewer rehearsals with a 1-2 hour break before the call time to get ready.

Season - companies have 'seasons' which just refers to their plan for shows/schedule for the upcoming year. They might refer to like a fall season and a spring season, or the might have a full year schedule with different parts (fall/winter/spring), or they might have only a spring season that runs into early summer. It depends on the company and the size! In this fic Nevarro has a fall season and a spring season, but they tend to think about it as a full year for contracts/etc. They would have 3-4 big shows planned (think Nutcracker, Swan Lake, Giselle, Onegin, etc.) in each part of the season (so, 3-4 in fall and 3-4 in spring). And then they'd fill in the gaps in the schedule with "mixed programs", which are programs with multiple smaller ballets or pieces that feature a lot of dancers. So a mixed program might have a 20 minute Balanchine ballet, a pas de deux, a full corps piece from a larger ballet, and a piece for like 8 dancers. or something. Mixed programs are often when choreographers-in-residence and on staff get to debut their own work.

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[blue-and-gilt]

Early 17th Century Swept Hilt Rapier

I've had this sword for a couple of months, but I've been slow to post it while learning more about it. When I started out collecting, there were always a couple of dream swords that I'd love to own. On the top of that list were the schiavona and the swept-hilted rapier.

For the most part, rapiers have been out of reach for me. Decent swept hilts command significant money while determining their authenticity is a further challenge that adds unwanted risk. Fortunately, I found a sword within my fiscal comfort zone and quirky enough to attract my attention.

The genesis of rapiers first appeared in 15th Century Spain as a distinctly civilian sword. The progressively improved hand protection resulted in swords equally good in the defence as the offence. This allowed the users to forgo armour and earned these weapons the name espada roperas, 'swords of the robe'. As their use spread, the name mutated. They became known as la rapiere in France and rapier in England.

As so often happens, the term rapier came to encompass a wide selection of swords with various blade profiles. Broadly speaking, rapier describes a large civilian sword for dismounted combat with a complex hilt that offers significant hand protection and a thrust-centric blade. The latter is essential because complex hilts weren't limited to just rapiers; they were mounted on other blades more suited to cutting than thrust-based fencing. As Ewart Oakshott writes, "If you can cut off a man's arm with it, then it's a sword, if not a rapier."

However, as the use of armour declined in the 17th Century, its use peaked, with rapiers making their way onto the battlefield during the latter stages of the Eighty Years' War, where the Dutch fought for independence from Spain; the Thirty Years' War in Germany, and the English Civil War.

By the end of the 17th Century, a new, smaller rapier with its' own form of fencing began to appear in France. It was significantly shorter and lighter than what came before, with an even more specialised thrusting blade. This sword became known as the smallsword and persisted until the end of the 18th Century as the gentleman's sidearm to defend self and honour.

This recent addition to my collection is not an extravagant sword; in fact, it can be better described as 'munitions grade'. The hilt and blade are very functional, robust, and devoid of the decorations and markings usually seen on higher-grade rapiers. It is the type of sword that a musketeer might have worn in the service of one of the many pike and shot armies that fought in the wars that plagued Europe in this era.

Using the A. V. Normans' typology, my rapier has a Type 58 swept hilt and a Type 30 inner guard. According to A. V. Norman, this hilt type appeared around 1560 and remained until about 1635, although my sword likely dates to between 1600 and 1630.

This rapier is a shockingly large weapon. On paper, one and a quarter metres is just a number without real context. But when you stand it against your side and realise it nearly comes up to your chest, it takes on a whole new meaning. The sword is also heavy, a fraction heavier than my French AN XI Curassier swords, which up until now had been my heaviest swords by a good margin.

The sword is in excellent condition, without significant corrosion or other signs of neglect. Only the grip wire is a recent replacement but nicely done in the style of the time, with a Turk's head knot at both ends.

Stats: Overall Length - 1,245 mm Blade Length - 1,070 mm Point of Balance - 75 mm Grip Length - 153 mm Inside Grip Length - 100 mm Weight - 1,340 grams

[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

[lunarthing159]

So, Since The Main 8 Cast Have Been Revealed For The WitchCraftSMP Gemcyt AU, I Suppose It's About Time For A Summary Post!

If You Don't Know What I'm Talking About, Look At The Tags Of This Post And/Or Go To My Blog And Check For Those Tags Before Clicking Read-More. That'll Show You The Progress So-Far! Also, I Will Try Writing The Below Without My Usual Typing Style As To Make It Easier To Read ^v^

● Starting Up, A Height Lineup!

In order from Shortest to Tallest, we have:

Citrine/Eloise, GoldPearl/Shelby, Jade/Scott, LapisLazuli/Prismarina, GrapeAgate/Lauren, CherryBlossomJasper/Cupquake, Amethyst/Cleo, & Spessartine/Joey

Eloise & Joey were purposefully placed next to eachother in the heights lineup as to showcase the height range of the whole cast. I also tried making sure that no two colored gems were next to eachother as to make it more apparent where everyone starts and ends. As shown with Citrine & Spessartine, I was not always able to do this ^v^"

● Next Up, Worldbuilding!

This AU takes place in a similar worldbuilding to Steven Universe. With the Diamond Authority and Gem Hierarchy System, including it's stance on 'Off-Color' Gems. Off-Color Gems are basically the outcasts of society, cross-gem fusions, flukes, and rebels fall into this category. If a gem isn't useful or otherwise challenges authority, they are Off-Color.

The AU's worldbuilding has everyone, through one way or another, end up on the same rebel planet. On this planet, they are hosting a competition between their resident 'Off-Colors' to showcase they can be useful outside the boundaries of which they were created. Pearls don't have to be servants, nor do Agates have to lead. They can choose their own fate and thrive! If a gem likes their role, that's fine! But if they don't, they shouldn't be labeled a fluke simply because they long for change.

Everyone's Off-Color traits are explained and elaborated on in their own posts, so look to those if you'd like more information. I also plan to write some stories about how everyone got onto the rebel planet from their life before. Some starting at the beginning of their life, others starting at whenever they gained their off-colored trait.

● Fusions!

I already have a few fusions between the cast members planned out, however I will wait to post anything for one reason, You All! Same with the base Gemcyt AU that started this all, I want all of you to be able to draw your own fusions! Whether they become canon or not, whether I take inspiration or not (I will ask if I can before tho if I do), I want to see y'all's creativity with these gem-ified block people!

● What About The Others?

The Others, in this case, refer to people like Bertha, Mertha, The Supreme Witch, Milo, & ect. For now, I have yet to make them, however (for the majority) I already have gems picked out for them. I just gotta draw them.

● Extras?

Extras! The main thing I want to talk about first is that, while I may change some/alot of backstory to fit into the worldbuilding, the character dynamics themselves will remain the same. Lapis Lazuli & Gold Pearl will remain friends just like Prismarina & Shelby, the same applies for Amethyst & Jade / Cleo & Scott. Lapis & Amethyst will have a rivalry just like Pris & Cleo did. And, of course, Grape Agate AKA Lauren will likely have a strained dynamic with Spessartine Garnet AKA Joey.

Another thing is that, while the art above may seem very simplistic, I mainly did so as to make color-palettes easier to replicate! I might draw more detailed versions of them another time, but for now, the blank colors with minimal shading is good for color-picking & quick refrence!

And finally, if you have any more questions about this AU, feel free to plop an ask into the ask-box and I will either answer your question or tell you if it's already been answered!

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With That Said, I Am Now Going To @chrisrin And Say "Hello! I Have Spent The Past 2-3 Weeks Drawing / Writing Some Magic Gem People" ^v^

If You Don't Know Who This 'chrisrin' Is Or Why I Am @ -ing Them? Go Check Out Their Blog! They Are The Creator Of The Initial Gemcyt AU That Started It All & They Also Have Alot Of Other Really Cool Stuffs!

[xx-psych0-rabbit-xx]

how do you imagine zan interacting with each of the dream friends? sorry if thats a question thats asking for a lot.

never apologize for wanting me to write an essay regarding zan partizanne i would do that for a living if i could

nyways luckily zans the one responsible for announcing n showing off the dream friends on twitter so we can have some idea ! of that ! kinda ! as a base !

(note:ive previously answered regarding her feelings on marx, susie n magolor here! so i wont touch on them for this one)

animal trio:its her most brief tweet regarding the announced characters, so i dont think she rly has any thoughts on them ? she doesnt even bother w a nickname, so i imagine shes just neutral on them, lightly bothered rick n kine r notorious for slacking, maybe looks down on them a bit in a "wow my trio is sm professional n stronger than yours." way

gooey:gooey, along side void n the other generals, r the only characters who get nice nickname privileges from zan, in gooeys case v likely she recognized him as part of dark matter n immediately went for expressing appreciation for his holy existence in her peculiar little way (i recall someone pointing out zan has three naming ways for ppl:derogatory, cutesy affectionate n Extreme Respect By Using Full Name.not related just silly aside), i think shes Very Appreciative of gooey n therefore rly affectionate towards him but shes also rly religious abt him.like if a christian met jesus on the street.btw being gooey must be crazy yk nothing abt yourself or your origin n then you find out theres a cult for your species w sacrifices

adeleine/ribbon:throughout her tweets zan.rly goes in on insulting adeleine.like yeah her hairline comments but she keeps bringing up how adeleine seems weak n hides like a little girl (SHES LIKE 12 SHE IS A LITTLE GIRL!!!) n while zan usually atleast acknowledges others fighting skills before claiming shes better, for adeleine she instead insists on constantly bringing her down anyways even when shes surprised at her having a new skill, n her last tweet is literally "hah, im looking forward to facing you!" after commenting ado n ribbon r dancing around adorably, basically she seems to.lowkey hate her LMAO? the adeleine tweets r sooo important to characterizing zan constantly challenging ppl tho !!! she prides her own strength (she even calls herself a battle hardened warrior) a lot n constantly wants to prove it, n hates what she sees as weak or cowardly to the point she seems to lowkey want to teach ppl like that a lesson? so yeah no she has some weird personal one sided beef w adeleine that ado is prob so confused abt, she actually seems to ignore ribbon in her tweets so i imagine she just thinks of her as some extra to ado than a partner to take seriously

honestly shes prob projecting some stuff but thats another post n this is long enough of a paragraph already lol

DMK:not much on the tweets aside from the usual "I CAN BEAT YOU UP" (btw she sounds a bit excited abt it? shes so cute) i dont think she has much interest in him beyond "sounds fun to beat up".shed probably lose btw bc an essential part of zans ego is she does not realize her boss fight is designed to have safe spots bc shes not actually that good at this 🩷

daroach:she doesnt have much to comment but does compare daroachs leadership style to her own, knowing her shes prob gonna get competitive abt that, i cannot see daroach caring back beyond being annoying abt it for fun lol

taranza:so this one is fun bc i think taranza sympathizes w her quite a bit, yk whole "you ever absolutely adore your evil boss n they could not give less of a shit back?" n so he thinks he can help smooth the way into acceptance of trauma bc he did it by himself so he can help n itll be less lonely n hard if he does! n like.its coming from a good place! he rly does want to help.but ultimately their situations r crucially different in what ended up happening (sectonia died n taranza could tell when enough was enough, hyness survived n zan has.no awareness his behavior was bad shes in full acceptance he can treat her like that if he wants to) so what ends up happening is he just gets on her nerves. a lot.bc shes absolutely not anywhere near where taranza started after sectonia died, zan in the tweets acknowledges the similarities between them withhhhh no awareness of what happened to taranza after n honestly knowing her...ego problems shed probably think "what actually happened is you were not good enough, when i would fail lord hyness always found a way to still make me useful.i am simply better than you n you refuse to see it." taranza by some miracle still tries to atleast be friendly w her.he rly does want to help n be there when he can man

[aphra7]

Danger v. Danger

My origin story is purple ponytail Butter Jungkook. I was hooked by the lip the moment he autoplay sauntered across my screen while I was innocently scrolling Facebook (of all places) and then YouTube suggested ON and one video led to another and the next thing I knew I’d forked $22 over to Weverse so that I could call myself a card-carrying ARMY. Literally the same day. And then Sowoozoo (Miami JK) happened and someone on Reddit was like “hey you should watch My Time” and I have been mainlining Bangtan ever since. But it took me forever to explore content as far back as the Dark & Wild era because when I went back that far, Jungkook was just so damn young. It was too weird.

Yeah haha very funny.

With time, however, I realized that my true primary affections lay with Jin, because Jin is total husband material, and he was already a hot grownup when Dark & Wild came out. Problem solved!

Not sure how I slept on this Seokjin. Forgive me, my darling.

I still love you, Jungkook. It’s just, I’m married now.

Anyway, all of Dark & Wild is great, but I have an inordinate fondness for Danger. First, it sounds like a long-lost Michael Jackson song, and I am an OG MJ fan. Second, the guyliner. So good. Finally, my absolute favorite form of BTS content is performance videos, and there are a million bazillion performances of Danger.

My original plan was to rank every performance of Danger, and I began that project, but it turns out that Tumblr won’t let me link that many videos in a single post and its UI sucks too bad for me to break what I already have into multiple posts. I might still finish someday, but in the meantime, why don’t we put the video for Korean Danger up against Japanese Danger and see who wins.

First up: Korean Danger

This video features members doing things that are things other members do. Jimin is boxing instead of Jungkook. Jungkook is playing the piano instead of Yoongi. Taehyung is cutting his own hair instead of Jin. Jin is wearing a muscle shirt instead of Namjoon. Namjoon is brooding, which is something he does, but he is also tattooing himself, which I cannot in five million years imagine him actually doing. Only Yoongi (basketball) and Hoseok (dancing) are engaged in on-brand activities.

The angst is so thick, it’s chewy.

Something is wrong; there’s a palpable sense of unease throughout that isn’t resolved. The lighting is mood and the stakes seem high. They are all suffering, but you don’t know why. You can almost see HYYH and its neverending cycle of misery* on the horizon.

They’re… in danger.

* Don’t @ me. I love HYYH.

The challenger: Japanese Danger

What is with this thumbnail?

I usually avoid Japanese versions of Korean songs because they weird me out, but I love that BTS often goes to the trouble of making separate, fully-realized videos for the Japanese versions. They look incredible in this. The lighting is better than in the Korean video. (I’m a sucker for high contrast.) The choreo is much easier to follow and the vibe (other than dance Hobi’s accusatory expression, seriously, I never want to be on Hoseok’s bad side) just feels different. And there’s a storyline. The underground club gang fight/dance battle subplot with Tae waiting fruitlessly for some girl (probably) to message him back is low-stakes, easy to follow, and satisfyingly resolved.

Also, how cute is baby JayKaaaaaaaayyyyyyy?

The club sequence begins with young thug Jimin busting the door open (I cry) and ends with Tae apparently triumphing in a rap battle. (Did Tae write this storyline?) It’s so good! There’s a happy ending! I love this story! Who needs girls? Not rap king Taehyung!

The verdict:

I realize this is a spicy take, but based purely on the videos, Japanese Danger is the superior Danger.

The settings are better.

The styling is better.

I can see the choreo better.

Jin is extra super hot in this version. It’s not just me, look at the comments. BACK OF THE LINE PEOPLE HE’S MINE

There’s an actual story instead of just “wow these guys sure do have a lot of feelings.” Not that there’s anything wrong with guys having a lot of feelings.

The climax of Japanese Danger is Tae winning a rap battle. The climax of Korean Danger is… he cuts his hair. Which I can’t take seriously because I watched the behind so I know he accidentally did cut his actual hair and not just the forelock toupee, so it makes me giggle every time.

The only better things about Korean Danger is it’s in Korean (I will only suffer through the disorientation of listening to the Japanese version for the sake of watching the video) and Namjoon’s hair. I love his edgy Japanese Danger hair, but I have a real soft spot for the soft serve/Marilyn Monroe look.

Who in their right mind would give Namjoon a tattoo gun?

I take no pleasure in this verdict. I’m Korean-American and never willingly admit that anything Japanese is better, ever, due to the traditional enmity between our peoples. I will entertain arguments in the comments, if anyone has any. But I’m not wrong.

헷갈리게 하지 마

[qqueenofhades]

Do you have a favorite character relationship, platonic or romantic, that’s your favorite to write purely from an author format?

I feel like I’m wording this terribly, but I know for me personally, my favorite relationships to read and write from like… a fandom perspective based on what I ship? is different than the relationships that are interesting to me as an author, because trying to figure out how characters interact, trying to capture their relationship and banter and dialogue and mannerisms, I find in some ways is more fun and interesting and dynamic to write over even some of my absolute favorite relationships, because with my favorites, I read and write them so much that I’m very comfortable with them and sometimes it’s nice to know that I’m just able to go for it and write them because I trust my internal instinct about how to write them and how they act and talk.

But the ones that are more challenging to explore or more unique are in many ways almost more interesting to write, they scratch that author itch when I can pull them off, and especially enjoy.

Like, there’s the things fandom author me enjoys, and things literary author me enjoys, and while there’s a LOT of overlap I have different preferences and favorites on both sides

And honestly I think this goes for ALL writing, not just necessarily relationships? So yeah, there’s the question and I’m so sorry for the rambling, but what would you say are your favorite things and relationships and plots etc to write as a fandom author, and favorite ones as a literary author? I’m happy to try to explain more if I’m being confusing. Words. Hard. Sorry

Are you asking in terms of abstracts (i.e. overall character types/dynamics/broad themes) or specifics (i.e. actual characters/ships from particular media properties)? In general for fandom, I have certain tropes and dynamics that I gravitate toward: i.e. Trashy Garbage Man Falls For Tiny Fierce Woman Who Doesn't Take His Bullshit; Sunshine and Grumpy (any combination thereof); Stupid Homosexuals are Stupid and Cannot Communicate, Cause Problems for Themselves; Now With Even More Literal Centuries of Pining God They're So Fucking Stupid, and more. Most of my favorite and long-term ships, such as Garcy, Fivan, Dreamling, etc. fall into one or more of these categories. I also particularly enjoy or have enjoyed writing Flynn (Timeless), Hob (Sandman), Ivan (Shadow and Bone), and their associated relationships, for various reasons. I know all of their characters well and they give me joy, so it's easy to slip into their POV, create scenarios or headcanons, and put them in various settings and give them problems. So there's that.

In terms of my original stuff, I am much more experimental and interested in a broader range of styles and outcomes. When you're writing fic, you are usually heading toward a certain ending (a happy ending for the blorbos after various tribulations), and I therefore have a certain writing style for fic that reflects that. My original fiction is different and in some ways considerably darker, and pushes character boundaries, plotlines, and interactions beyond what you'll normally see in my fic. For example, I have two currently finished original novels that (and I KNOW I have said this before) I should just quit procrastinating on and publish, especially since I badly need the money. One of them, The Wives, is a dark feminist murder-version of #MeToo with an unreliable and extremely feral female narrator. The other, Wormwood, is an alternate-history science fiction saga that is a combination of The Man in the High Castle and Chernobyl. They're both considerably different from each other in tone, style, and character relationships, and they represent more experimentation, complicated morality, and plot conflict than is generally reflected in my fics, because long-form fandom writing is one kind of thing and original long-form writing is another. So hey.

I likewise am currently working on an original version of my fic The Key of Solomon, entitled The Empire of Bones, which is an epic ensemble political-magical fantasy set in a historically inspired world. @silverbirching has read Part 1 and very much enjoyed it, so I am hoping to finish that one sometime in the new year (probably not sooner, but we will see?) It is likewise quite different from The Wives and Wormwood, and will (I hope) readily appeal to fans of my fics, because it preserves some of the same themes, styles, and character dynamics, while also including a ton of original stuff, extensive world-building, and new plots, themes, and content.

Thanks for the question!

[afhenvs3000f24]

Unit 10 Blog post

I have learned a lot from this course, and I do believe I have gained a solid foundation to effectively provide meaningful nature interpretations. Perhaps one of the key takeaways I've gotten is a desire to provide information in such a manner that it is catchy and relatable while bringing out the conservation and protection aspects. This dual focus is really the driving reason behind my passion in nature interpretation. With the amount of ecological challenges burdening the face of the Earth, it feels like our responsibility to bring awareness to impacts we have caused as a society and at the same time offer some hope and actionable solutions. Whether big or small, impacts from my efforts make every step toward positive change count. Nature is, to me, an entity valuable in and of itself-not because of the resources it provides. I think many times how nature would just be great without us, yet we cannot survive without it. That fact makes the little disrespect and sometimes utter disregard we have for the environment all the more sad. I believe it is our duty to leave the next generation-not just of humans, but of all species-with a healthier, more sustainable planet. This can also afford others a sense of stewardship and responsibility. Some of the many responsibilities that go hand in hand with being a nature interpreter are not only those to the environment but also to the audience. One of the most crucial features is accuracy; I strongly believe that before one conducts an interpretation, he or she really needs to understand the underlying science, history, and context framing the subject. Beck, Cable, and Knudson (2018) point out that putting historical and scientific perspectives together is important inasmuch as each can provide special insight into how ecosystems evolved and why they function the way they do today. By weaving these elements together, we enable audiences to connect more meaningfully with nature. But this is not about merely depositing facts. We, as interpreters, have the responsibility to connect on an emotional level with our audience, too. One of the most important elements of interpretation is merely that it gets done to meet the needs, interests, and learning styles of various groups. For example, children love to get hands-on, and telling stories usually does the trick if your audience is ignorant about a certain subject. Understanding age, level of education, and experiences allows the development of personalized experiences to reach deeper levels and provoke action. Another major responsibility we have is safety. We should be in a position to prepare audiences either for a hike outdoors or a lecture, so that they would know all the possible risks and be ready for them. This also involves talking about environmental hazards, such as slips or any wildlife encounters, and considering the physical limitations and needs of participants. Beck et al. (2018) discuss preparation and communication in respect to ensuring the safety and enjoyment of each participant. One of the challenges I’ve faced in this role is transitioning from a purely academic approach to a more dynamic and engaging style of interpretation. As a science major, I’ve been trained to write and present information formally, which can sometimes feel rigid. I’m working to unlock my creative side and develop interpretations that are not only informative but also entertaining and inspiring. Adding storytelling, interactive activities, and even humor will make it memorable to audiences long after the session is over. At the very core of this endeavor is an urge to make a difference. Nature interpretation is more than just imparting knowledge; it's about lighting a spark in others, a spark that grows into curiosity, care, and finally action. Whether that means a person plants a pollinator-friendly garden, starts a conversation about conservation, or just takes time to acknowledge the beauty of the natural world, those small victories count. They are the building blocks of a more sustainable and regenerative future.

References: Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: For a better world. Sagamore Publishing LLC.

Hooykaas, A. (2024). Unit 03: Risk versus reward in interpretation. University of Guelph, CourseLink.

[cousinsbellic]

WELCOME TO AMERICA...

This is an indie, low activity dual muse blog for Niko and Roman Bellic of Rockstar's Grand Theft Auto IV. Due to the themes present, this blog is 21+ and private. As interpreted by Rory (28, they/them.) GTA V/Los Santos verses available.

This blog uses BETA EDITOR. Mobile friendly rules under the cut.

This is a private, mutuals only blog. This means that I will be selective with who I follow and write with for the sake of my own sanity. Please do not pressure me into following, unfollowing, and then following again. I regularly check my followers, if I haven't followed back after a week, I likely won't.

This blog is 21+. It will contain themes that are not suitable for minors. Regular blog triggers are: violence, crime, strong language, sexual content, drugs, alcohol, and mental illness. Things that are present in both characters' backgrounds, so they will be mentioned but won't be written out actively as threads are: war, child soldiers, child abuse, poverty, and other heavy topics. I will do my best to tag where I can, but given the game I likely won't tag things like crime or strong language (unless it's heavily excessive.) Please read and follow at your own will.

Mun is not Muse. Both Niko and Roman have done and do things that I outright disagree with, and they have viewpoints I'd actively challenge if they were real, but that is part of their characters. Please do not assume my opinions, personality, or interests are the same.

General rp rules apply: ooc knowledge does not mean ic knowledge, don't dictate my character's actions or thoughts, I am fine with minor godmodding for plot progression (ie. to assume my muse would take something from their muse if it is reasonable he would do so, etc.) When in doubt about actions, especially in fights, please don't be scared to message me and we'll sort something out!

I am officially on slow activity, meaning that my time on this blog may come sparingly when I have the free time. I am working full time so I can get my degree this year, please respect that when I have free time, I may not want to write. I also suffer from chronic pain, depression, and ocd. I may be MIA for various reasons. Please do not pester me for replies.

Niko is considered the primary muse on here, with Roman being secondary, but they are both available for interaction and plotting.

My writing style varies depending on the partner/thread, but generally I lean more para and I struggle with one-liners outside of starter calls.

Shipping and smut may happen, but usually I ship with chemistry and plotting. For the most part, I consider Roman to ultimately be in a relationship with Mallorie, but they both canonically cheat on each other. Niko is emotionally distant and he is self-destructive, and his feelings for Kate will need to be factored into any ships unless the timeline makes that unnecessary. All in all, they both might be difficult to ship with and will need plotting, so insta-ships are a no-go here. Still, if we've been writing and you think a ship might be neat, don't be scared to hit me up.

I have a Discord available to mutuals, feel free to ask for it!

[gavin-plz-call-me]

i saw you did an nsfw alphabet for wannabe challenge so i was wondering if you could do one for tears of themis? i'd love to see one for artem

Hell yeah, alphabets are the only nsfw stuff I'm good at writing

AO3

Artem NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

-Stills inside/beside you for a moment while you both catch your breath, then he’s combing through your hair, peppering your body with loving kisses.

-Has wet wipes/tissues to help clean you up at arm's length, so if let’s be honest, when you whine about not wanting to leave his side just yet, he can help you clean up.

-If you’re still clingy after a while, this man will carry you to the bathroom to get the rest of the way cleaned up.

-If you find yourself in a more dominant role in the bedroom sub Artem? It’s more likely than you think be prepared to pepper that man with so much love and care.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

-His favorite body part of himself is his eyes. They’re a nice color, but I don’t think he thinks about his appearance too much.

-As for you, would it be cliche to say your brain?

-While your beauty was what attracted him first, your mind is what really sealed the deal.

-Your mouth is a close second, because it helps you voice your thoughts in that beautiful voice of yours and, I mean, if you wanted to give him a blow job too he wouldn’t be complaining…

-Is an ass man.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

-Is hesitant on deciding where to cum.

-He thinks cumming anywhere in/on you would not be a very pleasant experience for you.

-But in the heat of the moment, he’ll probably end up cumming inside you if he’s wearing protection, or on your thighs/ass if he’s not.

-When he cums, whether it be in you or on you, he’s grabbing you a tissue when he comes down from his high to clean you up.

-If you swallow his cum he’ll be a little disgusted, but a lot turned on.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-Has masturbated in his office after you’ve left on multiple occasions.

-Sometimes the perfume you were wearing was extra enticing, sometimes what you were wearing made you look extra hot, and sometimes your presence alone is enough to get him hot and excited.

-Is mostly ashamed about the times he did it before you two were dating because it felt like an intrusion of your privacy.

-Once Celestine came to his office right after he finished and he was so mortified that she’d somehow be able to tell that he did something. She knew something was up because of how much he was blushing, but she didn’t know what exactly

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

-Big old virgin

-I’m not even saying that to be mean plus being a virgin isn’t bad it’s just true.

-Sure, his lack of experience may be a bit of a hindrance at first, but he’s a clean slate.

-He’s not gonna be doing some weird thing with your clit because a girl he was with before liked that.

-Train him to perfectly pleasure you, and, trust me, he’s a fast learner.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

-Your first few times together he only did missionary, because, while he knew there were other options, he didn’t know how to initiate them.

-As he got more experience, however, he grew to absolutely love doggy style.

-Loves your ass, so it’s an obvious choice. Plus, if he’s extra flustered, he can easily hide it.

-Grips your ass extra hard while kissing your neck and back. If he’s feeling extra brave, expect a few whispers about how good you feel.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

-He has his goofy moments, but most of the time he’s 100% serious.

-Whether it be because he’s concentrating on learning how to pleasure you correctly, or, when he’s gained a bit of experience, just concentrating on both of your pleasure.

-I feel like as you guys get closer, however, an awkward moment may turn into a brief bout of giggles shared between the two of you before continuing.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

-Shaved himself completely when you two started dating.

-Was convinced you’d be disgusted by any hair down there. My poor insecure baby

-When he gets more comfortable around you, he’ll let it grow out, but he still trims it to keep it neat.

-Carpets match the drapes.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

-Is a whore for a sexy, romantic atmosphere.

-I’m talking rose petals, candles, and a couple of glasses of non-alcoholic wine.

-Wanna have the most romantic love-making session imaginable? Set all of that up for him instead of the other way around.

-He’ll be so in love with you at that moment he’ll have no choice but to give you the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

-Before meeting you, he jacked off maybe once or twice a week, and it was more of something he had to do than something he wanted to do.

-When he met you, he thought you were the most attractive person he’d ever seen, so his sex drive and, naturally, his masturbation sessions increased.

-Increased to every other day, maybe every day. He tried to not think of you during these times as he felt it was an invasion of privacy emphasis on tried.

-After finally getting together with you, his sessions have decreased back down to once or twice a week.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

-Likes having sex in his office, but that’s the most public space he’ll do it in.

-Also loves it when you’re slightly dominant on him.

-Doesn’t want to do any of the more kinky stuff, tying him or you, depending on his mood with a tie is about as far as he’ll go.

-But just take charge, he loves it.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

-Can’t go wrong with the good old fucking in bed. It’s easy, comfortable, and you guys can take as long as you want.

-Get him riled up at work by wearing something that beautifully shows of your ass, or make sure he knows you’re wearing that pair of panties you know he loves or, fuck it, no panties at all he’ll polietly ask you into his office so he can fuck your brains out.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

-Loves when you assert yourself, especially at work.

-Get all confident during a trial because you know you’re going to win? That’s all the motivation he needs.

-Does not help his productivity at all, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

-Expect to fuck after a trial, extra hard if you won.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

-No threesomes/group sex.

-It’s not even because he’ll get jealous okay maybe a bit of that but you were his first and only. Everything he’s learned about sex has been about specifically pleasuring you, he wouldn’t know where to begin when having sex with other people.

-He’s more than content with you being his one and only.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

-Not skilled at the beginning like all things sexual, but he’s a fast learner.

-Good communication is key here, as it is in all aspects of sex with Artem. Guide him to where you want to be pleasured, praise him when you really like what he’s doing, and give him some delicious moans and he’ll be a pro at fucking you with his tounge alone in no time.

-Is too shy to ask for you to go down on him, and will insist you don’t have to when you try to initiate it.

-Ignore him and do it, the noises you draw from him are absolutely worth it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

-Starts off at a weird middle ground sort of pace, not fast and not slow.

-Is fond of slow and sensual when he grows more experienced, but will occasionally get rough with you.

-That usually happens when he gets a bit too jealous of a guy who got a bit too close to you for your liking.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

- doesn’t really have a choice in the matter at the beginning, mr. 30 seconds (sorry Artem)

-For real, he prefers longer love-making sessions, but if you’re teasing him in the office a quickie will ensue.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

-Grows more confident the more the two of you have sex.

-He does like fucking in his office, so he likes a bit of risk, but there being too many people in the office, or the chance of Celestine walking in at anytime, Artem would much rather feign working on a case and take you home.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

-At first, like most virgin boys, his stamina is basically nonexistent.

-Let him take his time, he’ll get to fucking you until the sun rises in no time at all.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

-Has never thought about getting one for himself when his hand does the job well enough.

-Is very open to using toys on you in the bedroom, especially when he’s feeling insecure about his ability to please you which happens often, scream his name and make him forget those insecurities.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-Not a teaser in the slightest.

-You want something specific in the bedroom? He’s already doing it, you barely have to ask.

-On the flip side, sort of loves it when you’re unfair to him.

-Just barely touch him and stop at the brink of his orgasm, he gets a sick sort of pleasure from that.

-It also helps him gain more control over himself in the bedroom, so it’s a win-win.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

-May try to stay quiet, after all, in all the porn he’s watched which isn’t a lot because I feel like watching it makes him feel uncomfortable the man is always basically silent.

-That does not work out for him, though. He gets so overwhelmed with pleasure that he can’t control what his vocal cords are doing.

-Gains a bit more control over it over time, but he realizes you like his moans, so he stops trying to keep them at bay.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

-Is a total switch.

-Can be pretty dominant at some times see his atmospheric card

-But I can totally see him wanting you to dom him sometimes. Loves seeing you dominate the court, if you bring that energy to bed, oh boy is he like putty in your hands.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

-He’s of average girth and slightly above average length. Has a nice, thick vein that runs the length of his penis.

-Uncut.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

-Has a very active imagination how else would he become such a great lawyer?

-And while that helps him out in his work, anything about you can really set him off.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-Is out like a light

-Especially the first few times, his body doesn’t know what hit him.

-But even after a while, he works so hard that the moment he has the chance to fall asleep, his body is taking that chance.

-Make sures to stay up long enough to get cleaned off and help you clean yourself up.

[x-press-it]

Devilish Desires - 2/8

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. Get ready for some push and pull.

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 2/8

Word Count: 5.1K / 60K+ for now

The smell of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, thick and rich. Logan leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his usual black drink steaming beside him. This was his morning ritual—his quiet moment before the mansion came to life. It was the one part of the day he could claim as his own, a sliver of peace amid the chaos.

Then he heard her before he saw her. The soft click of polished shoes on the tile floor, a subtle shift in the air, and a scent that was both unfamiliar and intoxicating. It unsettled him, that scent—it reminded him of something dangerous, something he couldn’t quite place, out of time, ethereal.

E stepped into the kitchen, moving with that effortless grace that always put Logan on edge. Their sharp blue eyes scanned the room before they approached the coffee pot, casual, composed, like they belonged in every space they entered.

Logan’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that got under his skin. Maybe it was how she moved, like a predator—silent, sure, and entirely aware of her surroundings. Or maybe it was the way she didn’t acknowledge him with the same apprehension or deference others showed. No fear, no caution. Just… presence.

They poured their coffee—black, just like his—and took a long sip, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of their lips as they leaned against the counter opposite him. The air between them thickened. For a second, their eyes met, and Logan felt the weight of her gaze, heavy and searching, like she was peeling back his layers one by one.

He grunted, turning his attention back to his mug, refusing to acknowledge the sudden prickle of heat crawling up his neck. But E didn’t need him to say anything. They felt it—the way his focus shifted, however briefly—and they drank it in. It was like fuel to them, feeding something deep inside, something dark and hungry.

“You always this quiet in the mornings?” E finally broke the silence, their voice smooth, too smooth, like they were toying with him, testing boundaries he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Logan’s grip on his mug tightened. He didn’t like how she talked, like she knew something he didn’t, like this was a game and she already had the upper hand. “When I got nothin’ to say,” he muttered, keeping his eyes trained on the dark liquid in front of him.

E made a soft sound, almost a hum, taking another sip of their coffee. Their eyes never left him, as if they were studying him, waiting for something. “Strange. You strike me as someone with plenty on their mind.”

Logan’s gaze flicked up, his eyes meeting hers for a moment longer than he intended. She was watching him with an intensity that made the back of his neck tingle, amusement dancing in those bright, unflinching blue eyes. “You don’t know me,” he muttered.

“Don’t I?” E’s voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of something deeper, something more dangerous. They set their cup down, the movement deliberate, controlled, before stepping closer. Too close. Logan’s muscles tensed instinctively, his body coiled, ready, but for some reason, he didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

“You don’t like people seeing through you, do you, Mr Howlett?” Their voice was soft now, yet sharp enough to cut through the thick air between them. “It makes you uncomfortable.”

His brows furrowed, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as an old, familiar defense mechanism kicked in. “I don’t care what you think you see,” he growled, his voice gravelly, rough.

But E’s smirk widened, a flicker of something wicked glinting in their eyes. “Oh, but I do see plenty and it’s fascinating, really.” They leaned in even more, their voice a low purr, words wrapping around him like a net. “The way you try so hard to keep that mask up. Makes me wonder… what happens when it finally slips?”

Logan swallowed, his pulse quickening despite his best efforts to stay calm. He didn’t like this feeling—being out of control, the way she so easily slipped under his skin and played with his instincts. But damn if he wasn’t drawn in, hooked by something primal, something he hated to admit.

E’s eyes flicked over him, slowly, deliberately, as though they were savoring the conflict bubbling beneath his surface. “Don’t worry,” they whispered, leaning in closer, their breath warm against his ear. “I won’t bite. Not yet, anyway.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, every muscle in his body taut, every instinct telling him to move, to get away. But he stayed rooted to the spot, caught in whatever spell she’d cast over him. His breath hitched—barely noticeable, but E caught it. Of course they did. Their smirk deepened, a silent acknowledgment of their victory.

And just like that, they pulled back, their composure perfectly intact, as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than idle conversation. They picked up their coffee cup, taking one long sip, their eyes never leaving his.

“See you around, Logan,” they said, voice lilting with amusement as they turned to leave the kitchen.

Logan stood there, fists clenched, heat still simmering beneath his skin. He watched her go, tension radiating through his body as he tried to shake off the lingering effects of her presence. But he knew, deep down, that this wasn’t over. He was in deeper than he wanted to be—and he wasn’t sure if he could get out.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm golden rays over the garden, and for a moment, it almost felt peaceful. Logan jogged down the stone path, his muscles loose from the run, sweat clinging to his skin. The garden wasn’t a place he came often—too many damn flowers. But here, in this quiet stretch of the grounds, he could think. Or rather, try not to think. Fewer people, fewer distractions.

His boots hit the stone in a steady rhythm, the soft whisper of the breeze the only other sound. The air was fresh, almost cool, and he welcomed the solitude. For days now, he’d been trying to shake this nagging tension that had settled between his shoulder blades. It gnawed at him, an itch he couldn’t scratch, a restlessness that no amount of running seemed to ease.

As he rounded a corner, his steps faltered. She was there.

Sitting on one of the wrought iron benches, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, a thick leather-bound book resting on her lap. The sun kissed her deep, radiant skin, glinting off the small obsidian bumps above her hairline, and for a moment, it seemed as if the light itself was drawn to her. Logan’s breath hitched—just for a second, but enough for her to notice. His senses sharpened, every instinct firing off in a way he couldn’t quite control, as if she was a predator waiting, calculating, and he’d just stepped into her line of sight.

She didn’t look up. But he knew she felt him. The air shifted around her, just the faintest change in posture. It was subtle, deliberate—the kind of thing he’d notice in the heat of a hunt. Her fingers turned the page slowly, like she wasn’t in a hurry. Like she had all the time in the world. Like she knew he was watching.

Logan gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep moving. His boots thudded against the ground louder now, as if the noise could drown out the unsettling quiet that coiled between them. He wouldn’t get drawn in again. Not today.

But as he passed, they tilted their head just enough to catch him in their peripheral vision. It was barely a glance, but it hit like a shot of whiskey straight to his gut. A shiver crawled down his spine, one he tried and failed to ignore. Against his better judgment, he glanced back. A mistake.

Their eyes met his, sharp and knowing. They didn’t smile—they didn’t need to. A flicker of something—satisfaction? amusement?—crossed their face, gone as quickly as it appeared. But it was enough to make Logan’s pulse quicken, enough to unsettle him.

“You always in a hurry, Logan?” Their voice slid into the air between them, smooth and teasing, like they already knew the answer. Their eyes had returned to the book, fingers trailing over the page, as though this conversation was just a casual aside to whatever had their attention.

Logan’s jaw clenched. He kept moving, even as something in his guts told him to stop. To engage. “Just trying to get some air,” he muttered, not slowing his stride, not letting her pull him in.

“Air, huh?” Their voice held that same amused lilt, like they were playing a game only they knew the rules to. “Funny, considering how tense you look.”

Damn it.

Logan stopped. He couldn’t help it. His muscles tightened under his skin, irritation flaring hot in his chest. He should’ve kept going, should’ve ignored her like he’d been trying to do since they first crossed paths. But there was something about the way she spoke, the way she prodded at him—casually, confidently—that made it impossible to walk away.

He turned slowly, narrowing his eyes at her. “What’s your point?”

Their eyes finally lifted from the book, locking onto his with an intensity that made his skin prickle. And there it was again—that hum in the air, electric, thick with something unsaid. Their gaze wasn’t just piercing; it was probing, searching for the crack in his defenses.

“My point…” they said softly, closing the book with a soft thud and setting it aside. They stood with deliberate ease, every movement slow, unhurried, as if they knew exactly how much space to take, how close to get without pushing too far. “…is that you seem restless. Distracted, even.”

Logan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest like it could shield him from whatever she was about to say next. “You think too much, sweetheart.” The nickname came out sharp, deliberate, as if he were using it to keep her at arm's length, a verbal wall meant to keep her at bay.

But they ignored it and took a step forward instead, their smile small but dangerous. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re the one thinking too much.”

Another step, and Logan could feel the heat of her presence, the air between them charged with something he hated to admit was getting under his skin. She stopped just shy of invading his personal space, but close enough that the tension between them was palpable, a tight wire stretched too thin.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Their voice dropped lower, softer, like a secret meant only for him. “That tension… the way the air shifts when we’re in the same space.”

Logan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He hated how right she was. Hated how much he noticed her, how much his body reacted without his permission, as if some primal part of him recognized the threat—and the allure—she posed.

“I don’t feel anything,” he growled, the words rougher than he intended, betraying the lie he was trying to sell. He knew it. Hell, she knew it too.

Their lips curved into a knowing smile, slow and deliberate. “You’re lying.”

They didn’t need to step closer. Didn’t need to touch him. Just the way they said it, with that quiet confidence, made Logan’s blood simmer. His fists clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to spring—but he couldn’t move. Not yet.

“Maybe one day,” they murmured, their voice dropping to a purr, “you’ll stop fighting it.” Their eyes never left his, watching, waiting for that crack in his armor, for the moment when he’d let something slip. And damn it, they were close. Too close.

Logan’s heart hammered in his chest, his pulse thudding in his ears. He wanted to walk away, to tear himself free of whatever hold she had on him, but his feet wouldn’t move. His fists clenched tighter, knuckles white.

“Don’t talk like you know me,” he muttered through gritted teeth, almost a growl.

Their smirk widened, just enough to send another shiver down his spine. “Oh, Logan,” they whispered, their tone dripping with something dark and sweet. “I know you better than you’d like to think.”

With that, they turned, their movements as smooth and deliberate as ever, leaving Logan standing there, chest tight, blood pounding, the weight of their presence lingering in the air like smoke after a fire.

He stood frozen, his breath coming in ragged pulls, his body still tense with that simmering heat they’d left behind. It took every ounce of willpower to shake off the feeling, to force himself to move again. But as he walked, the itch—the pull—they’d left behind only grew stronger, gnawing at him with every step.

And deep down, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

The sound of fists pounding against the heavy bag filled the gym, echoing off the walls, mingling with Logan’s low grunts as each strike landed. Sweat trickled down his back, soaking through his shirt, but he welcomed the burn in his muscles. It was another way to keep his head clear—pushing his body until he couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the raw force of each hit.

He shifted his stance, throwing another punch, harder this time, letting out a sharp breath. Just as he pulled back for another strike, the gym doors opened, drawing his eye.

There she was again.

Logan’s fists slowed, his attention shifting against his will as she walked in, crossing the room with purpose until she stopped at the bench press. He kept throwing punches at the bag, though his rhythm faltered. She eased under the bar, wrapping her hands around it before lifting a weight that would make most people hesitate, her body moving with a sleek, powerful grace that tugged at something deep in his chest. The bar rose and fell smoothly, muscles straining under her skin but never faltering, her breathing steady and focused.

He wasn’t easily impressed, but there was something about the way she moved—so precise, so damn effortless—that made him pause.

For a moment, he just watched, his brow furrowing slightly. Most people in the mansion wouldn’t touch that kind of weight, but she handled it like it was nothing. A flicker of surprise ran through him. Admiration, even.

He quickly shook it off.

E finished their set, their chest rising and falling as they sat up and wiped the sweat from their brow with the back of their hand. Logan felt the pull before he even realized it, his eyes meeting hers across the gym. Her blue eyes were sharp, sparkling with an intensity that sent a jolt through him. It felt like he’d stepped into her space—invaded it—even though he’d been there first.

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away, turning back to the heavy bag. He swung again, his fist connecting with more force than necessary, trying to drown out the sudden spike of heat that had crept up his neck.

But it was too late. They’d already sensed it. That brief flicker of admiration—of unspoken curiosity—it rippled through them, feeding that bottomless hunger that simmered just beneath their surface.

Logan could feel it in the air, thick and electric, as if the room itself had shrunk around them. He could sense her gaze lingering on him, watching him, but he refused to meet it. His knuckles slammed into the bag again, harder, trying to force the tension out of his body. But all it did was stoke the fire that had been building for days now, ever since they first locked eyes.

Footsteps padded softly across the gym floor, and Logan cursed under his breath. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. She was getting closer—he could feel the heat of her presence, the way it shifted the air around him, making it harder to focus.

He kept his fists flying, trying to ignore the growing need that tightened in his chest, in his gut, making it damn near impossible to keep his head straight.

“Nice form.” Her voice was smooth, that teasing, silk-like tone threading through the space between them. Close enough now that it was impossible to ignore.

Logan didn’t respond, didn’t stop. His fists continued to pound the bag, but the rhythm had faltered, his focus slipping. He could feel her just behind him, standing too close. Close enough that he caught the faint scent of her sweat, her skin, mingling with his own.

“What is it about you that makes you go quiet every time I try to talk to you?,” they continued, circling slowly, casually, as if they weren’t even trying to get under his skin—but they were. Every move they made, every word, was deliberate. And it was working.

Logan finally stopped, his fists lowering as he exhaled sharply, his chest heaving. He still didn’t turn around, but he could feel her at his back, her gaze searing into him, making the hairs on his neck stand on end.

“Not in the mood,” he growled, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Oh, I think you are.” Their voice dropped deeper, the teasing edge more pronounced now, hinting at the heat pooling in his lower stomach. They stepped closer, just a fraction, but enough for Logan to feel her body heat at his back, enough to make his muscles coil with tension. “You’ve been in the mood for days now. Haven’t you?”

Logan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Every ounce of reason urged him to move, to put some distance between them, but his feet stayed planted. His instincts—the feral part within him—wanted nothing more than to pull her closer. Damn it. Why the hell was it so hard to walk away from her?

“You’re real sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Logan bit out, finally turning to face her. His eyes were hard, but his chest felt tight with something else—something that felt like surrender, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

They were standing close, too close, their lips quirking into that infuriatingly confident smile. “I’m sure of what I see,” they replied, their gaze flicking briefly to his chest and shoulders, before locking back onto his eyes. “And I see a man who’s barely hanging on by a thread.”

Logan’s breath hitched, his hands flexing at his sides. “You got no idea what’s goin’ on in here,” he muttered, tapping his temple with a rough finger.

Their smile widened just a fraction, head tilting as they stepped in closer, their voice dropping to a soft, lingering murmur. “Maybe.” They paused, closing their eyes for a heartbeat before looking back at him, deep satisfaction dancing on their face, as if savoring the richest taste. “But I can feel this.” Their gaze roamed over him once more, a spark of hunger lighting up their features as their hand rose—slowly—hovering just above his lower belly, palm not quite touching but close enough to stoke the fire burning in him through his t-shirt. “That delicious tension building inside you.” The words rolled off their tongue, each one deliberate, dragging out the moment. “The want…” Their voice dropped even lower. “The need…” Tantalizing. “I know exactly what you crave, Logan.” Their eyes locked onto his, piercing and intense, the heat coiling tight in his abdomen until his breath turned shallow.

Logan swallowed hard, knuckles white, his throat suddenly dry. His pulse raced, blood pounding in his ears. He should’ve pushed her back, should’ve told her to get lost—but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when each of her words sent a shiver down his spine, not when the air between them was thick with tension, every inch of space charged with the unspoken need that he was trying—failing—to ignore.

“I don’t want anything from you,” he growled, but even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. Weak.

They leaned in just a little, their breath ghosting over his jaw. “Liar.”

And with that, E pulled away, their gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before turning back to the bench press. Logan stood there, rooted to the spot, watching them walk away, a noticeable bulge in his sweatpants. His fists were clenched at his side, his jaw tight, throat dry, heart hammering in his chest. Every muscle in his body was taut with the effort of holding himself together. The heat pooling low in his gut and that tension between his shoulder blades were getting worse by the second.

And he knew—damn it, he knew—they were right. He was losing control.

Logan’s boots barely made a sound as he moved through the library, the soft thud against the polished floors blending into the quiet. His intention had been simple—find Marie—but that goal dissolved the second he saw her. Seated under the warm glow of a desk lamp, she was surrounded by a stack of documents—papers, brown files—engrossed in whatever work she was doing.

The library, once expansive and peaceful, seemed to shrink in around him. Logan paused mid-step, his gaze lingering on the curve of her neck, tracing the line of her arm, down to the way her fingers moved with precision across the papers. Every gesture felt purposeful, calculated—yet there was an ease to it, a control that pulled him in.

He knew he should move. Keep walking. Find Marie and get the hell out of here.

But then E’s eyes met his. Calm, but laced with that flicker of hunger he knew too well. It twisted something deep inside him, tightening his gut, stirring up emotions he wasn’t ready to confront, stoking the fire he tried so hard to put down when he saw them. And the smirk—barely there, just a hint at the corner of their lips—felt like they’d caught him in the act, exposed something he hadn’t meant to reveal.

Logan’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his shoulders tensing as he snapped his gaze away. He turned quickly, moving deeper into the rows of shelves, needing space. Needing air.

But even as he tried to put distance between them, he couldn’t shake the feeling—the awareness that her eyes were still on him. It was like she had a direct line to whatever was churning inside him, pulling on it, drawing it out even when he was trying his damn hardest to push it down.

Behind him, E leaned back in their chair, fingers drumming lightly on the wood. That brief exchange had sent a ripple of satisfaction through them, a confirmation of something they’d suspected. Despite the tough act Logan was putting on, his resolve was breaking, little by little.

And that? That only made the game more interesting.

They returned to their papers, but they weren’t really focused. Not fully. They were waiting, ready for the next time his eyes would drift back their way, because they knew it was only a matter of time.

The kitchen was quiet, the soft hum of the fridge filling the space as Logan stepped inside, his eyes scanning the cabinets. It was late, the mansion long since settled into its usual nighttime lull, but for him, sleep still felt a long way off. He reached for an apple on the counter, rolling it between his fingers, the cool skin grounding him for a moment.

That’s when he caught it—familiar and unmistakable.

Spice wrapped in smoke.

His senses sharpened as he turned slightly, watching E glide into the room, moving around him with a deliberate ease. They flowed effortlessly, brushing against him just enough to send a jolt through his veins, lingering close as they reached for a cup from the shelf, not even looking his way. Each movement was unhurried, a silent dance that seemed to say the world outside could wait as long as they wanted it to.

Logan’s heart raced, the tension thickening in the air. He tried to focus on the apple, but his gaze kept drifting back to her. Finally, she poured steaming water over the tea leaves, the fragrant scent of jasmine lazily curling through the air, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. Their hair, still damp from a recent shower, fell in loose waves over their shoulders, glistening under the soft kitchen light, revealing the smooth, rounded tips of their obsidian horns that rose just above their hairline, looking a tiny bit longer than he remembered.

"Late-night snack?" Their voice, soft yet intimate, broke the stillness, the sound of it sending a faint shiver down his spine, already igniting the flames in him. She hadn’t even turned to look at him, but Logan knew she was aware of every move he made.

He grunted, biting into the apple with a sharp crunch. "Somethin' like that."

E stirred their tea, the metal spoon chiming softly against the mug, their attention fixed on the swirling liquid as if it held all the answers. Then they turned to face him, and their eyes met his. For a moment, Logan couldn’t look away. There was something unsettlingly perceptive in the way she watched him, as if she could see right through him, past the gruff exterior and down to the parts of himself he kept locked away. His chest tightened in response, and for just a moment, he hated it—hated how easily she could get under his skin without even trying.

"You seem restless." They took a slow sip of their tea, never breaking eye contact, their voice smooth, drawing him in like a riptide.

Logan shrugged, leaning against the counter, trying to shake off the weight of her gaze. "Got a lot on my mind."

They raised an eyebrow, a faint smile teasing the corners of their lips. "I bet you do."

The air between them thickened, heavy with tension that seemed to wrap itself around Logan, holding him in place. He could feel it—the pull she had on him, like an invisible force drawing him closer even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. It gnawed at him, that frustrating desire to pull away while feeling stuck, as if she held onto something deep inside him, a red thread connecting them, so tight she could pull at it whenever she wanted.

E set their cup down and stepped closer. It was subtle, just a shift in their stance, but Logan felt it—the warmth of her body, the way her presence seemed to fill the room. The soft, floral scent of jasmine with a hint of honey drifted between them, mingling with the heat of their closeness, and Logan’s grip on the apple tightened.

"You ever think about finding a way to… relax?" Their voice dropped, soft and teasing, the question hanging in the air like a tempting offer.

Logan narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching. He didn’t trust easily, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. But the way she said it, the way those words curled around him, made him wonder if she meant every word that escaped her lips—innuendos included.

"I relax just fine," he muttered, taking another bite of the apple, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. Even he didn’t believe it.

E smiled, stepping even closer now. They leaned against the counter beside him, their fingers brushing the surface near his hand, not touching but close enough that Logan could feel the warmth radiating from her. His pulse quickened, a heat pooling low in his belly as his body betrayed him, reacting to her proximity.

"You keep playin' with fire," Logan warned, his voice rougher than usual, like he was fighting to keep himself together. But the usual edge was missing, softened by the heat building between them, the struggle to maintain his composure growing harder by the second.

Their eyes darkened, something deeper flickering beneath the surface as they held his gaze. "Maybe," they murmured, the words dripping with challenge. "Or maybe I’m just waiting to see if you’ll give in."

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. Logan could feel it—the tension tightening around them, pulling him in closer, like invisible threads wrapping around his resolve, threatening to snap it in two. He knew he should walk away, retreat to the safety of distance, but once again, he stood rooted to the spot, his body betraying him at every turn. The rational part of him screamed to break the moment, to turn away and shut her out like he always tried. But another part of him, the part that felt the heat of her body and the way her gaze made his heart pound, wasn’t so sure anymore.

E stepped back just enough to let the moment unravel, lifting their cup for a slow sip, their eyes holding his, unyielding. "I’m headed to bed," they whispered, casual words wrapped in something heavier, something that lingered in the space between them like an unspoken invitation. "You should too…" Their voice trailed off, hanging in the air for a couple of heartbeats before they finished, softer, almost suggestive. "Might do you some good."

Logan’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white around the apple. His eyes tracked her every movement as she turned and walked away, her hips swaying in that same deliberate, confident way they always did. But this time, there was a slowness to it, a knowing in the way she left him standing there, like she was daring him to follow.

And for a split second, his body nearly obeyed. His muscles tensed, his feet itching to move, to follow her down the hallway and give in to the pull that had gnawed at him for weeks now. But then he caught himself, stunned by how close he’d come to losing control, to how easily she had him dancing in the palm of her hand, right on the edge of giving in.

Instead, his eyes followed her, glued to the way she moved, the heat in his chest simmering as desire coiled in his gut.

As they disappeared into the hallway, Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His resolve was breaking, little by little, and each time it slipped, he found himself caring less and less about stopping it.

To be continued…

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

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Don't forget to follow the tags "Devilish Desires" and "xpressit writings" to stay tuned for the next chapters 😁

🔖 @quillycrow

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Lost Years

Summary - After spending five years in LA, Dean comes back to Lawrence and meets up with his bestfriend or rather his then bestfriend. Y/N isn't exactly happy on seeing Dean either. Will he be able to fix his strained relationship with her?

Pairing - Rockstar!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - Cheesy fluff, angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of divorce, parents separation, drinking, bad dates, kissing, unprotected sex 18+ (wrap it before you tap it), p in v smut, oral sex (fem receiving), sex in the Impala.

WC - 5.3k+ (....oops)

Square filled - Angst ( @girl-next-door-writes ) and “Why the fuck would you laugh at that?” ( @anyfandomgoesbingo )

A/N - This is my submission to @downanddirtydean's 500 followers writing challenge (Congratulations again, Lyd). Prompt is in bold.

This is an AU. Flashbacks are in Italics.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thank you so much, hon) and thank you to @whatareyousearchingfordean for giving this a read and leaving some valuable comments❤️

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Fuckin’ brilliant!” A weary exclamation left the woman's mouth as she read the text displayed on the device's screen in her hand.

There was a very significant reason why she didn't believe in blind dates, but Jo had been stubborn and insistent. And with Valentine's Day approaching, Y/N didn't want to spend the day in her pjs, crying over The Notebook again. So she had agreed to give a chance to Jo’s friend, or to be more precise, her friend's cousin. His name was Gabriel, and from what she had heard from her mutual friend circle, he seemed to be a decent guy.

But now all she wanted was to go back in time and change her decision to give into Jo’s request, because looking at the empty chair in front of her, she regretted allowing her friend to even try to interfere in her love life.

She signaled the waiter to bring over her check after downing the entire glass of wine. The restaurant was quite busy tonight. It was packed with people on this fine Saturday evening - from lovestruck couples to families with crying kids, Y/N found herself feeling quite lonely as she had stupidly waited on her date to show up for such a long time. Heat crept up her neck in embarrassment when the waiter showed up, the latter’s eyes filled with sympathy as Y/N paid the price of her drink.

Within no time, she was out of the restaurant.

Glancing down at her green dress, she swore under her breath. She tried to book a cab to return to the comfort of her home when her eyes caught the glowing signboard of The Roadhouse right around the corner of the street. The only thing she could think of was to get black-out drunk now. Y/N, still in her high heels, trudged down the path to Ellen’s bar.

Dressed up all for nothing. Rolling her eyes at herself, she went inside the establishment, heading straight towards the counter and taking a seat there. Like any other weekend nights, the place was stuffed. Y/N let her eyes trail over the many patrons of the dingy bar, landing finally on the middle-aged brunette who ran the place

“Ellen!” She called out to the woman.

“Hey, honey,” she approached Y/N, all the while glaring daggers at the drunk she had just previously been arguing with, “A bit overdressed for this place, don't ya think?”

“Your daughter is officially fired from matchmaking services,” Y/N sighed.

“Boy troubles, huh? What can I get ya, hon?” Sympathy was evident in Ellen’s eyes as she spoke. Y/N was as much of a daughter to her as Jo was. The girl had been through so much heartbreak, all Ellen wanted was to see a smile on her face.

“The usual,” Y/N gave a sad smile.

“Rough night indeed, huh?” She raised an eyebrow. The woman in question shrugged defeatedly. Ellen patted her arm in comfort before she left her to arrange for her drink, leaving Y/N to wallow in self-pity.

She thought back to when her life had taken such a traumatic turn. All her friends were either getting engaged, married, or popping out kids. But not Y/n... she was in her late twenties now, and she couldn't even find herself an eligible man.

Ellen pushed the glass towards her. Sighing, she picked it up as she admired the liquid in it. She drank slowly, every sip creating a burning sensation at the back of her throat. Fingers still wrapped around the glassware, she set it down, looking around the bar. The place was filled with mad chatters and howling laughs along with the music blasting from the stereo placed on the deck inside the room, a stark contrast to how lonely she felt. She signaled Ellen for another round, who nodded before giving her that sad understanding smile Y/N was now starting to hate. Frowning, she dropped her head and exhaled.

“Sweetheart, where did that pretty smile for yours go?” Y/N was quickly pulled out from her daze by a very familiar voice; a voice she hadn't heard in a few years. It couldn't be him, he was supposed to be in LA!

“Ella?” The term of endearment brought back dozens of memories, some good and some bad, but all were about him - the freckled face teenage boy with dirty blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest in the summertime she had once fallen for. It brought up the painful memory of their first meet which she had tried to forget so hard.

She remembered the day of their first drama practice when Dean had grudgingly walked into the room. He had reluctantly agreed to play the Prince in the Cinderella act after Cas who was supposed to be the Prince had accidentally ended up with a broken leg. He didn’t know her name, so he had called her ‘Ella’ to get her attention which was the start of their epic friendship.

Y/N didn't dare to turn around to look at him, after all, he wasn't the scrawny teenager from Lawrence anymore. He was now the lead singer and guitarist of a popular rock band with a fancy name and songs that were in the top ten of Billboard music charts. Yes, she did keep up with his rising fame, sometimes even listening to one of his songs before she was once again reminded of the heartbreak he had caused.

“You can't even look at me.” His voice was barely a whisper but loud enough for her to hear as he slid into the stool beside her.

Gathering enough courage, she raised her head. “Dean.” His name rolled off her tongue so easily, but her heart ached for the past. Dean cracked a smile at her as his emerald eyes did not leave hers once. It was as if he was memorizing every tiny detail of her face and if anyone would've asked him, he would've replied that he was.

Y/N hadn't changed much over the years he had spent in LA. She was still the same girl he had first met in school and the last time he had seen her at their graduation. She was a shy girl but they had clicked instantly. Growing up, she was his best friend, his person, his escape.

“Dean Winchester has walked into my bar. Must be my lucky day!” Ellen’s voice thundered across the room, grabbing the attention of a few intoxicated people. “How's LA treating you, boy?”

“Ellen! It's awesome to see you again.” A grin broke out on Dean's face as he jumped out of his seat and pulled the lady into a bear hug. “LA’s pretty okay. It is as good as the industry can be.”

“Heard some of your songs, I knew you had the talent,” Ellen said, jabbing her finger into his chest to prove her point. “Now what can I get ya? On the house.”

“A beer will be just fine. Don't want to show up to the Winchester house drunk!” He chuckled.

“Alright, coming right up. Y/N, honey, you want another round or a glass of water?” The lady asked.

“I'll be leaving in a few. Glass of water it is, El.” She replied but was then interrupted by Dean.

“One drink, with me. It's on me, Ella.” There it was again, that fucking name. A few years ago, that name would have made her cheeks heat up but now, it just made her blood boil. She clenched her hand into fists, tears pricking at her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Do not call me that.” She hissed, surprising Dean. Y/N turned towards the man, finally taking a good look at him. He had changed a lot, had become more handsome but LA had not modified his clothing style because he was still wearing his signature flannel and jeans accompanied by a jacket. She wondered how many girls had stopped him for a picture or an autograph on his way back to Lawrence, jealousy seeping into her. She hated the way he still had that effect on her.

“Y/N-” She knew what he was going to say. ‘I am sorry’, but she wasn't ready to forgive him now, if ever.

“No. Don't.” She stopped him mid-sentence, hands digging into her purse as she pulled out the money for her drinks, dropping them on the counter.

“El, I am going home.” Ellen, who was silently watching their whole exchange, nodded her head before asking, “Want me to call a cab for you?”

“No. I'm going to crash at your place. I need to have a word with Jo.” Y/N said since it was near impossible for her to walk back to her house, considering she was quite tipsy and still in heels, but she also didn't want to wait until the woman called a cab with Dean Winchester anywhere nearby. After getting her belongings, she got out of the barstool and left the place on wobbly legs. Her feet would no doubt be screaming in pain the next day.

Stepping out, she inhaled deeply, letting a few tears fall as the cool air hit her face. After their graduation, Y/N had sworn she would try her best to forget the older Winchester. She wasn't quite successful in her aim, because many times she would come across his gorgeous face on the cover of a magazine or his song would be playing on the radio, striking up old memories of their time spent together in high school.

Still lost in her thoughts, she took a step forward, only to misjudge the cobblestone path and end up losing her balance. She braced herself for the impending fall but was saved by a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist.

“Watch your step, sweetheart,” Dean said, letting her down gently. “Lemme see, did you hurt your ankle?” He went down on his knees in front of her, pulling a low gasp out of her as he examined her feet.

“Were you following me?” Y/N gritted out those words.

“No.” He shook his head but she clearly saw through the lie.

“I’m fine. You can go now.” She said, her eyes looking everywhere but the man.

“Come on, don't be so stubborn. Get in the car, I'll drop you off at your house or Jo’s place if you want.” He said looking up, trying to catch her eyes but she was adamant about not giving him that satisfaction. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, lips quivering before she answered.

“Leave me alone.” She muttered, a tear running down her cheek. All that preparation for not breaking down in front of Dean and her body still betrayed her. The man got up. Y/N noticed that he was now wearing a cap, probably to hide from any bystander who might recognize him.

“Y/N/N, I-” Dean was at a loss of words. He hated seeing her so heartbroken and he loathed himself for being the cause of it. He tried to reach out and hold her hand but she recoiled back, making him wince. “Please, Ella.”

“Stop calling me that, Winchester. How many times do I have to repeat that?” Her voice came out as a little whine, making Dean chuckle. He missed it - her tone, the timbre, the intensity in her pitch, and the words it said, which used to be his voice of reason; he missed his best friend. “Why the fuck would you laugh at that? I am not doing stand up comedy out here.” Y/N was still the strong-headed girl he adored.

“You'll probably hurt yourself if you walk in those heels again with how tipsy you are right now. Get in the car, I know you missed cruising around the town in Baby because she missed you for sure.” And that thankfully got the exact reaction out of her that he had anticipated. She finally looked right at him, her face lit up at the pretense of seeing the beloved black car again.

“I thought she was in LA with you.” Y/N said and then it dawned on her, “Did you drive across the States?”

“Damn right I did!” He beamed in reply like he had won a trophy, his heart swelling with happiness when he saw the smile forming on her face mixed with awe and surprise. He still had to go a long way to get her back, but he had to take baby steps. At least he managed to make her smile. “So? Want to go out, just like the old times?”

The smile instantly disappeared from Y/N’s lips and Dean knew he fucked up right then. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the good ol’ days. “Sweetheart, I'm sorry-”

“Just drop me off at Jo’s. That's it.” She said, lowering her gaze. He waved her over to the direction where his car was parked. Y/N started to walk along as Dean wordlessly followed her.

Y/N felt a wave of nausea hit her. She didn't do well in social gatherings and this was her graduation ceremony. One wrong step, one wrong word, or a wardrobe malfunction, and the day could turn into a disaster in an instant.

“Honey, you're gonna be excellent out there! We're all very proud of you.” Mary said while hugging Y/N tightly as they both waited on the former's older son to come downstairs who was running late, as usual. She had grown incredibly close to the Winchester family over the years. They were her rock, especially Dean who was there with her at every step as she went through the separation of her parents.

“Are you and John going to join my parents at the ceremony? Someone needs to stop them before they end up killing each other.” She grimaced.

“Isn't this going to be the first time they are together in one single room, since their….you know-” Sam asked as he came out of the kitchen, a green smoothie in his hands. Dean might have been her best friend, her confidante, but Sam was the little brother she never thought she needed.

“First get that green drink outta my sight, I already feel like I'm gonna throw up. Second, you can speak about the divorce. It's not taboo and it was a long time coming. Everyone knew that.” Y/N reluctantly said. The separation of her parents might have been foreseeable but, nevertheless, it still hurt her to see her parents walkout in two separate ways once the divorce was finalized. The house had become much quieter these days which she was thankful for but she also felt the evident absence of her father.

“Mom and Dad will definitely be there!” Dean announced loudly as he came down the stairs. “Come on let's go. Don't wanna be late for our own graduation ceremony!” She could always count on him to make her day better.

“I should have told you.”

“W-what?” Y/N asked dumbfoundedly as Dean’s gruff voice broke her out of the reverie and pulled her back to reality. A minute passed when she noticed even if his hands were on the steering, he wasn't driving anymore.

“This-” she looked out of the window, “this isn't Jo’s place.”

“No, this is our place,” Dean said.

“Dean.” This was the last place she wanted to be at, let alone be here with Dean. It had taken every ounce of her strength to not run back to this place over the past few years whenever she missed her best friend, only to realize that he had left her in the dust on his path to fame and didn't care about her as much as she used to think. Too many memories were attached to this particular place.

“I missed this, Y/N.” He said, killing the engine and slowly opening the door on his side. Y/N understood what he was trying to do and her mind screamed at her in protest to not follow him but her heart told her to follow the man it belonged to.

Dean finally stepped out of the car and walked over to the closed door on her side. She opened the door herself before he could and stepped out as well with a huff. The place was the same as it ever was. “I haven't been here since graduation.” She blurted out.

“I should have told you,” Dean said as they started to walk to their spot. Y/N chose to remain quiet. “Ella, please say somethin’.”

“I am not your Ella anymore, Dean. Stop calling me that.” She said but this time it wasn't a whine, instead, she yelled it out. She was sick and tired of yearning for the man who had broken her heart several years ago and now she was scared that he was gonna leave her once again.

“You'll always be my Ella.” He said.

“The Prince didn't lie to Cinderella and leave her behind but you- it hurts me to remember how close we were then. You left me without even a simple goodbye, so no, I am not your Ella anymore.” She flinched when he reached out for her.

He had stopped walking now and so had she. Dean moved closer to her before standing exactly in front of her. His hands lightly traced her jaw as she looked up at him. She looked just as enchanting under the moonlight as he remembered. He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs gently caressed her cheeks. She had given up fighting herself now, driven only by instinct. All the walls that she had put up came crumbling down with one touch of his.

“Why do you think I didn't say goodbye to you?” Dean whispered.

“Maybe all the years that we spent together meant nothing to you.” Her voice was like a melody to his ears but the words broke his heart even further.

“Because it was too damn hard. When RC Records called me up three days before graduation, you were the first person I wanted to tell, but I couldn't, ‘cause if I did, I wouldn't have made it to where I am right now.” He said, not a trace of mirth on his face.

“I wouldn't have held you back.” It was simple. Y/N always wanted to stay in Lawrence and look over her mother's bakery shop, and that's what she ended up doing. She now owned the shop and her business was thriving. Dean had wanted to become a singer ever since he was ten when he was forced to play the Prince, opposite to Y/N’s lead. He had found his passion and she had always encouraged it, even when John had strongly protested against him choosing music as his major. “You know I always supported you.”

“I know that, but thinking about not seeing you every day made me not want to go. I kept imagining you upset and that's why I didn't have it in me to tell you about my break.” He said. Y/N grabbed his hands pushing them away from her face.

“You ended up making me sad anyway. So why the fuck are you back?” She was enraged.

“Ella-” Dean tried to come closer but she stepped back, “I came to see my family.”

“Then why are you wasting your time here with me?”

“Because you're the most important person in my life and every day I spent away from you, you were the only person on my mind.” Dean smiled.

“What?”

“You were the first thought when I woke up and the last thought when I went to sleep.” He said and pulled her close when she finally stopped fighting. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I know I am late and probably missed my chance, but five years in LA have taught me to take the risks. I love you, Ella.”

“I can't-” Dean’s smile felt but he quickly recovered.

“I-I understand.” He let out a dry chuckle, “You got a man back at home waiting for you. He sure is one lucky bastard.”

“No. You do not fucking understand! You are just so in your head, it's just-” She flailed her arms around in utter frustration. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to move on? I have been on so many dates but no man was ever enough for me, all because of your sorry ass! The Graduation Day - I knew you always thought of me as your best friend, so I had decided to ask you out myself,”

“Y/N-”

“No, let me finish. You have to fucking listen about how much pain you put me through these five years! The next day, I went to your house only to hear from your parents that you were on your way to LA. I fucking hate you!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I fucking hate how much I still love you, Dean!”

His eyes widened in surprise as he kept opening and closing his mouth like a damn fish. He was unable to form a coherent sentence and so he cupped Y/N’s cheeks in his big, warm hands once more, but now he dipped down, tilting his face and pulling her in for a kiss. His teeth grazed her bottom lips, making her moan into his mouth. She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she found herself completely enamored by him. Her hands snuck to the back of his neck as she steadied herself. Her knees buckled under his hypnotic touch as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, her whole body tingled and toes curled up as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

“De,” Y/N tried to catch her breath when Dean finally let go of her lips, already missing the feel of her on him.

His hands traveled down her body, making her gasp aloud at the feel. He lowered his mouth as he started to leave a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “Dean, please. Don't.” Her three short words made him stop.

“Alright.” He gulped.

“I don't want to get my heart broken again, Winchester, I don't think I can survive it again.” Y/N knew he would return to LA within a week, and so she didn't want to take this any further. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, right?”

“I won't. I am not going back.” Y/N looked at him, surprise evident in her eyes, “I don't care about my career anymore. Five years without you was like living in hell and my bandmates are probably so tired of hearing how much I missed you. I will write my songs from here in Lawrence if it means that I'll be closer to you.”

“You would do that for me?” She asked sincerely.

“I would. I was a stupid kid back then but now I have realized that nothing's more important to me than you. I don't want to lose my Ella ever again.” He said, “I'm sorry for taking so long to understand that. There is no way-” His words were cut off as Y/N captured his lips with her own. The sudden kiss caught him off guard but he quickly pulled himself together to kiss her back. “Shit, Y/N-” he gasped when he felt his dick twitch. He picked her up in quick motion and went towards the car. Y/N giggled when her back lightly collided with Baby’s door. Dean dropped his head, nipping at the pulse point on her neck.

“Dean-” She moaned, which was better than any music he had ever made as his hands slipped under her dress, his fingers hovering over her soaked panties. Her thighs clenched in anticipation.

“You have no idea how long I dreamt of having you. You're soaked, sweetheart. ” He huskily said, his fingers hooking on the waistband of her cotton panties. “Tell me to stop and I will, in a heartbeat. No questions.”

“N-no. Don't stop.” Y/N cooed. Dean dragged down her panties which pooled at her feet. He picked it up and stuffed it into his pocket. Thankfully, there was no one around but the thrill of being out in the open with Dean got her even more hot and bothered. Her hands grasped onto his biceps tightly so that she wouldn't topple over when Dean slipped a finger into her tight pussy. Her mouth fell open, her head dropping on his shoulder as he started pumping slowly, every drag of his finger pushing her closer to the edge.

Dean felt his pants tighten as he heard the sweet moan of his name leave her lips. Her raspy voice was one he could hear all day long, her heavy pants tickling his skin. With one hand he unbuckled his belt, trying to relieve himself a little, but when a cry of pleasure left her lips as he slipped in another finger, he hoped that he wouldn't cream his pants like a freaking teenage boy.

Y/N felt the coil in her stomach tighten as she inched towards her climax. Dean quickened his pace, curling his fingers inside her and brushing her g-spot, each time eliciting a low moan out of her. “Dean….” She couldn't form any coherent words other than chanting his name over and over again and a moment later, the coil snapped as she felt herself coming undone. He delicately pulled his fingers out of her, which were covered in her juice. Dean reached behind her, yanking the door open as he nudged her to go in. She readily obliged and slid into the seat with shaky legs. He climbed into the backseat after her, closing the door behind him.

Her dress had ridden up her thigh, exposing her glistening pussy. Dean’s eyes darkened at the sight before him as he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere in the front. He pushed her dress further up. She raised her hands as he successfully got her out of the garment and unhooked her bra. Y/N moved further back into the seat, her back resting against the door on the other side as Dean started to leave kisses down her body.

“Have you ever thought about this? ‘Cause I did, every freaking day.” Dean asked, kissing the valley between her breasts, the rumble of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“E-every time I touched myself, I thought of you.” She said, gasping out loud at every word when his mouth found her breasts and started to suck on the soft skin, flicking a nipple with his tongue and twirling the other within his fingers.

“Oh-” Dean raised his head to look at her before he moved south, “Did you think about me between your legs just like this-” He said as he left kisses along her thigh, his stubble creating soft burns on her skin in its wake that she would definitely remember. He finally stopped at her nether regions, his hot breath fanning against her throbbing pussy. “Did you think about me tasting you like this?”

Y/N threw her head back in pleasure when his mouth latched onto her sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue flicking at her aching nub. Her hands traveled down to his head, her fingers getting tangled up in his soft hair and pulled at the strands, making him groan.

“Fuck-” She exclaimed as Dean hungrily devoured her, his tongue repeatedly assaulting her sensitive pussy, sucking needily on her bundle of nerves. Y/N threw her head back in pleasure as she felt the coil in your stomach tighten before a wave of pleasure washed over her. “Shit!” She gasped as Dean’s tongue lapped her juices hungrily.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good.” He panted before he unbuttoned his pants pushing them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection sprung from his confines. “Son of a bitch, I don’t have-” Y/N sensed his uneasiness.

“I’m on the pill.” She smirked as she stared at his toned body.

“Well, I’m clean.” She reached out to touch his stomach, hands then traveling down to his length. Dean dropped his head, biting down on his lips, “Y/N-” He pushed her hands away, smirking as he ran his hand along his hardened cock, giving it a few strokes, the tip beaded with precum. He looked at Y/N once and lined himself with her dripping entrance when she gave him a nod to go ahead.

His swollen tip teasingly nudged at her opening before he pushed himself into her.

“Shit Y/N-” Dean grunted, simultaneously as Y/N hissed out at the painful sensation at the beginning as he pushed himself into her, letting her adjust around his size before she told him to move. He circled his hips as he slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside her, before pushing back in again, deeper than before.

“Holy fuck-” Y/N moaned out when he quickened his pace, hitting her g-spot repeatedly with every thrust as they both inched towards their release. Dean kissed her as he continued to thrust deep into her, their breathing growing erratic, the windows of the chevy fogged up and the car filled with their groans and moans as they both chased their release. She hooked her arms at the small of his back as he started to nibble at her sweet spot. His hand moved south, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit which further edged her.

“Shit De!” Y/N cried out loud as her walls fluttered around his pulsating length when she felt herself coming undone. Dean’s thrusts became sloppy as he grunted into the crook of her neck before he spilled into her with one cry of her name, painting her walls with his seed. He dropped his head, trying to catch his breath before he gently pulled out.

“Fuck sweetheart.” Dean panted, beads of sweat lining his forehead as they both laid in each other’s arms, basking in the post-coital bliss. “Was this better than your fantasies? ‘Cause, ‘twas surely better than mine.” Dean smirked, reaching out to grab a piece of cloth to clean themselves up. “We should have done this sooner.”

“If only you hadn't been such a coward.” Y/n teased with a giggle.

“Your dumbass could have called me up. I wasted five years being one, terrified to hear how much you hate me.” He grumbled, cleaning up the mess on the seat. Honestly, she could have but she didn't ‘cause she was scared to hear the truth as well; that Dean had truly left her.

“So, you’re sayin’ we’re both a couple of dumbasses.” Y/N chuckled, putting on her bra.

“Your words, not mine.” Dean gave her a sly smirk. “The Winchester household will be so delighted, once they know I finally got my head out of my ass and looked at the beautiful woman right in front of me.” He was right in every sense. The Winchesters, all of them had always believed that those two would end up together. Everyone saw how in love they were except Y/N and Dean.

“Isn't it too early for the introduce-the-girlfriend-to-the-family thing?” She asked which got an eye roll out of the man. “Panties?”

“I don't have them.” Dean sneakily raised his hands.

“I saw you stuff them into your pocket.” He grabbed her dress from the front seat, throwing it at her.

“Put this on, or preferably, just don't.” He gave her a boyish smile, getting a raised eyebrow in reply, “Oh I'm not done with you. Gotta make up for the lost years, sweetheart.” Dean's eyes darkened at the thought as Y/N gulped, knowing she wouldn't be able to walk properly for weeks.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

[proxylynn]

Your Boyfriend: Stalk-home Syndrome (Day 9)

Chapter #9: Review my Kisses

[WARNING: Because the internet needs more romantic visual novels where you try to win the hearts of your senpai, right? WRONG! Your Boyfriend is a visual novel, yes. But this is anything but a love story. Your Boyfriend is a game where you deal with a man's unhealthy desire to have you, no matter who gets hurt. And he's not afraid to leave the body lying around for you to find either. Imagine a cat bringing you dead mice or birds to your doorstep, except he had brought the corpse of the person you talked to the other day. It's a choose your own adventure story, so be careful with how you react to those around you, especially towards him. This game deals with themes that might be disturbing for some audiences, such as murder, gore, drug use, kidnapping, non-consensual intimacy, strong language, and nudity.]

So what better thing to do than write fanfiction about it?! Enjoy my descent into madness. I regret nothing!! Sincerely with crazy sleepless love, your friendly neighborhood author, Lynn~♥

———————————————————————

[Well now, what have we here? Domestic life? With Peter? If anything is going to push you away from him, it's being with him 24/7. But...Knowing you, you're going to enjoy this till it's gone too far. That's kinda boring, don't you think? No, I'm not interfering. I keep my word when given. But, what if something were to change? Can you handle it as gracefully as you think you can? Or will you face a challenge that not even you can overcome? You've surprised me before. I trust you to do it again. Heh.]

*buzz-buzz…buzz-buzz...buzz-buzz…buzz-buzz*

I stir at the sudden sound of vibration. Feeling around, I notice I'm not in my clothing from before, I instead find myself stripped and in nothing but the Scream costume I use as a nightgown. I'd be more inclined to freak out if I didn't know how Peter was. Speaking of the dork, he's not in the bedroom with me, and judging by the light seeping in the window, it's approaching nighttime. I guess I didn't sleep for very long.

*buzz-buzz…buzz-buzz...buzz-buzz…buzz-buzz*

It sounds close. I feel around and find my pants by the door. Did he start stripping me so soon or did he drop them over here? So many weird questions.

*buzz-buzz…buzz-buzz...buzz-buzz…buzz-buzz*

I dig my phone out and return to the warmth of the bed. Seems I have some messages.

{TK-oh-snap: I hope you had a safe trip.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Yo, you let me know if that stick is being a dick now that you're out of my sights.}

{Unknown: Hey beasty, it's your boy! Lulu gave me your digits. Hit me back. Okay?}

I add Vio's number to my contacts.

{TK-oh-snap: I saw a cat on the way back to my place. Thought you'd like to bask in the floof.}

The photo attachment is of this big fluffy white cat...So cute!

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: You better not be ignoring me, Hun. Not said with attitude BTW. I'm just worried. We miss you. I miss you.}

{V for Vio: I know we didn't leave on good terms. But I really need to hear back from you. Please?}

{TK-oh-snap: You okay? You usually don't wait this long to reply. Sorry if I'm sounding weird. Just hit me up when you're able.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Is it cool if I have your old bed? Mine's kind of seen better days. XD ...I hope that was as funny as it was in my head. Thought I'd try to maybe cheer you up. Wherever it is you're at. Talk to me when you can, okay?}

{V for Vio: I miss you. I know it's been like 6 hours, but I really...really fucking miss you.}

I also have a missed phone call from Lord Don keeper of rent...He left a voice message.

"Um...It's me. Call me back when you get the chance. Just want to make sure you're alright."

Don isn't a phone person and it shows. I can't imagine his text style if he had a cell phone. Just to put the gang at ease, I send a mass text to TK, Vio, and Lucy.

{Super sorry. After a 3 hour ride and unpacking, my dumb butt got sleepy. Just saw the messages. I'm okay. Hope I didn't freak you out. Again, I'm sorry.}

*buzt*

Well, that was fast.

{V for Vio: Beasty!}

{Hey, V.}

{V for Vio: You really doing okay?}

{Yeah. Why?}

{V for Vio: What do you mean why? You left with that lunatic. I have every right to ask that.}

{V...Please don't start.}

{V for Vio: Sorry. Sorry. I just...}

{I know what you meant. You're worried.}

{V for Vio: Worried is putting it lightly.}

{He isn't going to hurt me. If anything, I have been worried about you and the others.}

{V for Vio: Dawwww! Look at you being sweet. But you don't have to worry about me. I can easily kill his ass.}

{V...My dude...So far you have a score of 1-2. And you only got that score because the first time a siren distracted him while the other times I was there to spare you. Tell me again how you can kick his ass?}

{V for Vio: Geez, beasty, stomp on my nuts while you're at it.}

{I didn't mean...ugh...}

{V for Vio: Don't get your tits in a twist. I'm just ragging on you.}

{Dude!}

{V for Vio: Thank you.}

What?

{Huh?}

{V for Vio: I don't think I thanked you for that day. Had you not jumped on him, I'd be dead.}

{You don't need to thank me. We're friends. I care about you. If I can help, I will.}

{V for Vio: Was that why you went with him? To protect us?}

I have to pause for a moment. This isn't something I want to think about.

{I left because I wanted to. I wasn't happy. I wasn't healthy. I wasn't living. Just struggling to maintain a barely normal level of sanity. Peter was a breath of fresh air. He made the darkness fade. He makes me feel genuinely loved. I'm with him because I want to be with him. If moving in with him protects you and the others, I'm glad. It's a happy bonus.}

{V for Vio: One more question? I'm pressing my luck. I know you're getting upset.}

{I'm not upset.}

{V for Vio: Lynsie, I know when you get annoyed. And right now, I can hear the attitude in your chat.}

{Then just ask me already, you big dork.}

There's a pause.

{V for Vio: ...Had I not gotten in trouble...Had you not met him...Would you have given me a chance?}

The sting of pain in my chest...I don't know. I didn't think he liked me like that and then suddenly he does when I'm with someone while he's also with Lucy. It's too convoluted and hectic.

{Like, if you had asked me out?}

{V for Vio: Yeah. I was going to ask you to see a movie and then chill. Just us.}

{No Lucy?}

{V for Vio: I mean, she lived with you. But I was going to ask for it to just be us.}

{Knowing my slow ass, that's when I'd ask if something was up.}

{V for Vio: Ha! But you're not slow. I wasn't doing a good job giving you signals. I can see how you didn't know. Hard to tell when I'm smashing Lulu.}

{You're not wrong. But dude! TMI.}

{V for Vio: And you call me the dork?}

{...But to answer you...Maybe? I don't know. I'd probably thought we were just hanging out.}

{V for Vio: It's amazing you say that and yet you not only have a boyfriend, but he's a fucking loon too.}

{Yeah...But he's my loon and I love him.}

{V for Vio: You worry me, Lynsie.}

{I know. But I'm not yours to worry about.}

{V for Vio: You'll always be my girl. I'm always going to worry.}

{And there's the vibes of a big brother I was getting from you before.}

{V for Vio: Alright, my luck ran out. That's a huge boner killer.}

{That's on you. Not me.}

*buzt*

TK's messaging me now.

{I'm going to head back to bed if that's cool.}

{V for Vio: Knowing your sleep habits? Yeah, you get some rest.}

{Thanks, V.}

{V for Vio: Send a tit pic before you clock out?}

{Goodnight, V.}

{V for Vio: Worth a shot. Chat you later, beasty.}

I delete all of the chat with Vio. Peter...He'll look through here and I don't want to make him think something is happening.

"*sigh* The things I do for love."

{TK-oh-snap: Of course you'd sleep the day away if given the chance.}

{Between the shit that went down in the AM, the stressful stuff at the apt., the long drive, and then unpacking...Can you blame me?}

{TK-oh-snap: Not one bit. How are you feeling?}

{Better. Though I might grab a snack and hit the hay again.}

{TK-oh-snap: Is he treating you alright?}

{He's helped me so far. Knowing him, he's far from done now that I'm here.}

{TK-oh-snap: And you feel safe?}

{Would I have left if I didn't?}

{TK-oh-snap: I think you know what I meant.}

{Buddy, can we not? I just got out of a similar chat with Vio and that talk ended with him wanting titty pics.}

{TK-oh-snap: Did you send any?}

{No!}

{TK-oh-snap: Good. Good. Um...can I have a bum pic?}

{You have some huge balls to ask that.}

{TK-oh-snap: Can't blame me for trying to lighten the mood with some flattery. You do have a nice backside. Plus, it's safer to ask this way so you can't punch me.}

{Fine. But that was your one free pass to hit on me. I'm not single anymore.}

{TK-oh-snap: Wait! Give me a do-over! I can do way better.}

{Using a mulligan?}

{TK-oh-snap: Yes!}

{Alright. You used your saving dice throw and it is successful. You have another chance at wooing the DM. Best of luck to you.}

{TK-oh-snap: Okay! Um...Give me a moment. I want to make this a good one.}

{Take your time, buddy.}

And they do. I don't know if the pause should make me worry or not. But it does give me enough time to get up, stretch and pop some joints before I'm alerted to their reply.

{TK-oh-snap: Okay...I hope it's okay I have 3 lines.}

{3?}

{TK-oh-snap: I had more but these are my top favorites. I hope you like them.

#3. I wrote your name in the sky and the wind ruined it. Then I wrote your name in the sand and the water washed it away. So I wrote your name in my heart and nothing can ever remove it now.

#2. When I think of you I smile, and when I smile I think of you. I don't know if it's the thinking that makes me smile or the smile that keeps me thinking. All I know is I'm always thinking of you and smiling.

#1. Mario is Red. Sonic is blue. Press start to join and be my player 2.}

Critical super-effective hit landed! Argh! My heart!

{TK-oh-snap: Well?}

{Why would you waste such beautiful words on me?! I am unworthy!}

{TK-oh-snap: It was the Sonic one wasn't it? I knew it was too strong.}

{I'm more shocked you didn't use Vector and Silver. I know those are your fave Sonic characters.}

{TK-oh-snap: Oh don't tempt me.}

{You're joking?}

{TK-oh-snap: I feel like Sonic in water, because you've made me breathless.}

{You must be Shadow. You're the ultimate life form.}

{TK-oh-snap: That was cute.}

{I'm not good at Sonic jokes. You could say...It's no use!}

{TK-oh-snap: We don't talk about '06.}

{But you like Silver? And that's his intro game.}

{TK-oh-snap: Lynn...}

{Fine. You don't have to Chao my head off.}

{TK-oh-snap: Better. And nice pun.}

{Thank you.}

{TK-oh-snap: I miss this...I miss you.}

{I miss you too. But I'm not out of your life. Case in point, we're chatting right now. I'll always be up for chatting when you hit me up and we can still play online.}

{TK-oh-snap: True. Oh! Have you downloaded Sonic Forces yet?}

{Yeah, that's still on the backlog of games I need to play for the channel.}

{TK-oh-snap: Thought about what your OC will be?}

{Whatever the game allows me will not be like the one I made as a kid. I forget what I called her, but she was a kangaroo. I think I still have the drawing somewhere.}

{TK-oh-snap: XD That's too damn cute!}

*buzt*

And of course Lucy is buzzing in.

{While I would love to continue this lovely chat. My tummy is rumbling.}

{TK-oh-snap: Ah understood. You get yourself some goodies and take care of yourself.}

{Will do. Take care, TK.}

{TK-oh-snap: Take care, Lynsie.}

As I have done with the Vio texts, I delete the TK chat before opening Lucy's.

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: It's about damn time!}

{Sorry, Lulu. I'm just exhausted.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: I bet you are.}

{Are you insinuating something or just mad I took too long?}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Mad. I know damn well you're not dumb enough to fuck that guy after what happened today.}

Wow, that was the limit for you Lucy? You were practically telling me to get laid now you're back peddling?! Fuck! Why does she flip-flop like this? Drives me damn mental.

{Whatever. So what's up?}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: How are you?}

{Doing good. You?}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Could be better.}

{Oh?}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Yeah. You could be here with me.}

{Yeah? And do what?}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Unwind. Finally get you to loosen up a bit.}

{I don't smoke. You know that.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: But how do you feel about it in brownie form?}

{You'd have to hide the smell from me. Can't stand that shit.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Weird how you grew up with pot smokers and the smell bugs you that much.}

{My hate of the smell is what kept you from getting busted by Don. If I can smell it, he can.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: You're so cool like that. You didn't like it, but you never gave me flack for it.}

{Weed ain't a big deal. The cocaine, however...}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: That's for bad days only.}

{You don't want to be doing regardless. I've shown you my mom's mugshots. Sure, she did crack and weed, but do you want to look like that? Like wet paper hugging a skeleton. That stuff fucks you up.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: I didn't realize I was in for a D.A.R.E. scare talk.}

{I ain't lame like that. I'm a cool kid.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Yeah you are. Still...I bet you'd be fun to get stoned with.}

{Hell if I know. Never felt anything when around so much smoke. Not even munchies.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Must be immune to second hand. I bet if you tried some, even the weak stuff, you'd get super baked.}

{Maybe.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: I wonder what effect you'd get. Like, it'd be funny if you got super horny when stoned off your ass.}

I'm sensing a theme with these texts and I don't like it. My mind tingles as if a memory is trying to trigger but it just hurts.

{Lord, I hope not.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: You're worried that something would happen, right? That's why you have your first time with a friend so you don't freak out.}

Argh...Fuck, why is this hurting my head? I need to get some pills.

{Hey, Lulu, I'm gonna have to cut the convo short. My head is suddenly jackhammering.}

{Lucy in the sky with diamonds: Shit. Okay. But text me tomorrow, okay? Even if it's just like an emoji or gif. Just to know you're okay.}

{Will do.}

I delete Lucy's text log and look up Don in my contacts. The man really needs a cellphone. I hate making calls. I dial him up and look around my junk for some pills.

*click*

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mr. Williams. Hope I'm not bugging you."

His gruff listlessness shifts to having slightly more emotion.

"Hey, kid. It's good to hear your voice. And no, I'm not doing anything super important. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just calling you back. I didn't want you to worry about me."

"Thanks."

"Sorry it wasn't sooner. A long drive plus unpacking made me a sleepy sally."

"Heh...Sounds like a good time."

A small rattle gets my attention and I find a bottle tucked in with my shirts. Score. Now I need a drink.

"So...Was the door super expensive to fix?"

"No. But I still have to put in the new one before it gets too late. Figured I'd take a small break to eat, you know?"

"You work hard. You earned a break. What's cookin' on tonight's menu?"

"Um...Marie Callender's: Family-Size Chicken Pot Pie. Gotta say...Not bad really."

"Oooh...It's been years since I've had a pot pie. Jealous!"

He chuckles as I head for the kitchen, making note of how quiet the house is.

"Well if you can get one, I recommend this one."

"How many chef hats out of five would you give it?"

"Hmmm...Maybe four."

"Damn. Now I'm super jelly of you."

"I don't know about that. I can think of a better pie I could be eating."

"Careful. Too much pie and you'll have to double your workout routine."

"You noticed?"

"I've been in your unit. I've seen the weights stashed in the corner. Your effort shows."

He seems to pause and I look around the fridge. Oh! He has strawberry syrup. So making pink milk!

"You alright, sir? I hope I didn't make things awkward."

He huffs and something metal clinks for a moment, but I'm not going to zone in on things while searching for cups.

"N-No, you're fine. You just caught me off guard. I swear you're the only one that ever noticed when I did things or asked how I was and offered to help. *sigh* I'm going to miss that."

"Well who said that has to stop? Whenever you need some positivity, just give me a ring."

"Is that okay with your, ugh...boyfriend?"

"I don't see why not."

*beep-beep*

I look at my phone and see the warning.

"Shit..."

"What's wrong?"

"I have about five minutes of data left. I'll try to let the others know, but if I can't, could you let them know so no one panics thinking I'm dead?"

"Can do, kiddo."

"Sweet! Well, you go on and enjoy your pie. Goodnight, Don."

He hangs up and I check my phone. Yep...Just about two minutes left. Enough to send one more mass text that eats up my remaining time.

{Heads up if I don't respond for a bit. Gotta get another phone card. Fuck my plan sucks!}

With that done and cups having been found, I make my drink then down the painkillers. It's been a good while since I've enjoyed some strawberry milk. Makes me feel good. Shame it's gone all too soon. So with that done, I clean things up and wish Rat a goodnight before returning to the bedroom...or I would've...Had the door at the end of the hall not had a light faintly peeking out to make me curious.

"Where do you make your videos? I don't see your setup."

"Oh. Down the hall. We can put your laptop there if you want."

I slowly approach the door and place my ear to it, listening for anything. Nothing. It's silent. I gently take hold of the knob and ever so carefully turn it...It opens. Poking my head in, I see him with headphones on at a very elaborate desk and PC setup. He's engrossed in his work, whatever it is, probably editing some videos. I should leave him to his work. I close the door and return to the bedroom, I'm sure he won't take long. The man is addicted to cuddling me as much as I am to him. I find Cuddles and bring it to bed with me. He wasn't kidding about the bed being comfy. Just laying down is lulling me back to sleep. I wonder what kind of dreams I'll have.

…

I lay there for so long just trying to fall asleep. I hate when this happens. I'm on the verge of sleep, my body craves it, but now the caffeine in the aspirin is keeping my brain on. The cruelness of irony!

*click*

The door quietly shuts and I can't hear his steps, just the shuffling of clothes before they hit the floor. The mattress shifts as he joins me under the covers and he scoots himself close, an arm wraps gently around my waist and he pulls me flush against his body. A small tremble travels down my spine when I feel his hand caressing my leg and slowly trailing up the thigh.

"Are you awake, darling?"

"Yeah. Woke up to a headache and now I can't nod off."

"Did you take some medicine?"

"Yes. But I don't feel like getting up again for sleeping pills."

"Hmmm...I think I can help."

I roll my eyes. Yeah, I bet you could, naughty boy.

"I'm not in the mood, sweetie."

To my surprise, his hand leaves my thigh and returns to my waist, holding me tight.

"That's alright. We don't have to fool around."

...Really?

"We don't?"

He nuzzles into my ear.

"Not unless you want to. Do you want to?"

I smile and turn in his hold, nestling up to his chest.

"All I want is to be with you, just like this."

He purrs and rubs my side.

"You're too cute sometimes."

I merely nuzzle him and he kisses my head. The gentle way he caresses me mixing with the soft sound of his breathing and heartbeat, it's like the much-needed lullaby to soothe my restless mind.

"You make me so happy. You know that, right Lynsie?"

I yawn in a nod.

"This is the start of our new life. Just us and our love."

"*sleepy* Baby..."

"Yes, and Rat too. We can't forget her."

He pulls the covers up a little more.

"We're going to be so happy. *yawn* So...very happy."

Poor thing, he's falling under the spell of slumber too. Let it win, Peter, join me in the land of dreams.

[A WEEK LATER]

This new life with Peter is...I'm not really sure how to call it. Don't get me wrong, he's still the same sweetheart and takes care of me. But I'm noticing things that I might have overlooked too easily before. He doesn't tell me what our address is. If I order anything online or need to check my mail, it goes to his PO Box. I can use his amazing WiFi but I don't know the connection password. There is no landline phone, so I had to convince him to get my cellphone turned back on and even then he monitors the use. I can go outside so long as he's watching and only so far, not like there's anywhere to go. I should probably try resisting this type of controlling behavior. But I don't. The limits he's setup are tolerable and it's not like I'm caged.

Plus I've put limits on him too. While I do like the attention and the tender affection, getting it 24/7 is so weird feeling since I'm not used to it. So there are times where I request moments to myself or share space with each other but no physical contact. He's tried a few times to convince me to share a shower with him and I've had to remind myself to say no because it won't remain innocent for very long. A lot of things don't last being innocent for long when with him. Watching TV? Nope. Cooking? Nope. Cleaning? Nope. Working? Nope. Sleeping? Big flipping nope! He gets turned on by the littlest thing I do and most of the time he can hold himself back, but if there's buildup that I have no clue I'm causing then I can kiss my pants goodbye. Learned it the hard just how subtle he can be triggered into humping me when I was reading stories online for ideas. He picked up on every little expression my face made, the color that came to my cheeks, and the shifting of trying to get comfortable in my seat. A light touch on me set off an hour of heated indulgence that left us both as naked messes.

Yet despite how often we fool around and the intensity of said fooling, he hasn't brought up wanting to go all the way. I honestly thought that would be his main goal once he had me all to himself. Part of me wants to ask him about it, I feel bad that he might be waiting for something that I'm still uncertain about. But another part of me is afraid to even hint at it, just in case it's slipped his mind due to liking what we got going on right now and I don't want to make things awkward. Still...I dunno...I feel like I owe him something more. He does so much for me and even more so when it comes to doing what I can't. I need to think it over.

Today's a pretty chill day. We're just chilling on the sofa, a blanket over us, Rat curled around the bowl of cheese puffs between us, and Disney's Fantasia on the TV. It's just a nice time all around.

"I didn't expect this to be your favorite Disney movie."

"Yeah. I'd bug the heck out of my mom because I'd want to watch it so much. I haven't seen the 2000's version yet. But I heard it was okay."

"Which one do you like more?"

"Out of the seven acts? I like act five. The Pastoral Symphony."

"The one with the centaurs?"

"Yep. Did you know they had racist stereotype characters in it?"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. In the late 1960s, four shots from The Pastoral Symphony were removed that depicted two characters in a racially stereotyped manner. A black centaurette called Sunflower was depicted polishing the hooves of a white centaurette, and a second named Otika appeared briefly during the procession scenes with Bacchus and his followers. The edits have been in place in all subsequent theatrical and home video reissues."

"Fuck...Things were crazy back then."

"Yep. That's why you'll never see Song of the South."

"Song of the what?"

"Exactly."

The screen gets dark as it's the part of the Rite of Spring where the T-Rex shows up to attack the Stegosaurus. Peter covers Rat's head to shield her from the rather violent scene that came out of nowhere. I don't have the heart to tell him it gets darker with all the dinos dying of starvation after this. So it plays out and I lean on him to give support. I at least warn him about the demonic dance of an ending that is Night on Bald Mountain.

*buzz-buzz*

He pulls out his phone and I get a glimpse of a name I don't recognize.

"Everything okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. It's just my editor getting back to me."

"Editor? I thought you did that."

"I do. But sometimes I make more content than I wanna deal with. So I hired Daniel to handle some of the workloads."

Makes sense.

"Okay. So...What's up?"

"Oh, he's just getting back to me about the contract rewrite I sent him."

"Rewrite? Why'd you do that?"

"Well, I wanted to know if he was willing to take on your content too when you stared up again. So far, it seems like we have a deal."

He got me an editor? I don't even know where to begin with recording and he did that?! Why? Why are you so fucking good to me like this?!

"You didn't have to do that."

He merely smiles.

"No, but I wanted to. I figured you'd be happy."

My heart!

"Peter..."

"Huh?"

I give him a kiss and he purrs.

"Do I get kisses for doing things for you now?"

"You get kisses when I want to give you the love you deserve."

"Oh~?"

"Yeah~."

He chuckles and leans his forehead to mine.

"Should we pause the movie?"

"And do what?"

"Maybe have a little fun."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I give him another quick kiss.

"Maybe after I get a little work done."

"Oh? And why then?"

"Because sweets are meant to be enjoyed as rewards."

He chuckles and kisses my brow.

"Adorable."

I stick my tongue out.

"Don't tempt me."

I stop.

"That's what I thought."

"Meanie."

"I could be a lot meaner."

A sudden touch below my waist makes me flinch.

"O-Okay, okay! Point made."

He just chuckles and leaves his hand there as we watch the rest of the movie. Though it makes it really hard to concentrate when I'm trying to focus on not thinking about it or thinking I feel it move. Damn him. I'm trying to enjoy ballerina ostriches and hippos as they dance away from horny crocodiles, I don't need to feel weird during this! What even was that sentence?! I sound high! This isn't fair!

"You're trembling, darling."

Shit!

"S-Sorry."

The cocky smirk framing his smug face isn't helping.

"You can tell me if this is bothering you."

And admit that you're getting to me? Never!

"I'm fine."

"If you say so."

He calls my bluff. By the time a Night on Bald Mountain is playing, he's slipped his hand between my legs and his fingers mercilessly tease me at random so I can't get used to it. The only way I'm holding on to restraint is by dead staring straight ahead while biting my tongue and clawing my side. Can't be bothered by temptation if I feel nothing but irritation. The credits roll and I finally know relief as his hand retreats from me. He collects Rat and the bowel before getting up, the wave of cold that comes from the loss of contact is as soul reviving as it is wicked since my body wanted more.

"You know..."

He begins while putting Rat back in her tank.

"I've been meaning to ask you something."

My stomach sinks at what he could possibly ask.

"Like what?"

"Remember how you said you'd help me out with my videos?"

He returns the snack bowel to the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Well...Would you be willing to help me out with a little something today? I have a few things to vlog about but I can't really test them out on myself."

This distracts my brain enough to return to normal.

"Such as?"

He returns with his hands up.

"Nothing crazy, I swear. Just some odds and ends that would be easier if I had a lovely assistant's help."

"Heh...No need to butter me up with flattery. Just tell me what I need to do."

His eyes light up in excitement.

"Great! I need to gather some stuff and set the room up. Meet me in, oh...Let's say an hour."

I give him a thumbs up and he scampers away. I wait a moment before looking at Rat.

"Did I just do something dumb? Because I feel like I might have."

Of course the snake can't talk so I stew in this weird mixture of feelings he's left me in. I wonder what he'll have me help with? How many things will we test out? Can I get in on his secret menu action? Because it looked amazing. Hell, his content in general is great. I've got nothing to be nervous about. I flip through some shows and relax. He gave me the time, so I'm going to use that time to cool down.

…

After a show or two, enough time has passed and I switch to a nature show so Rat can watch while I go to meet Peter. I give the door a few knocks and wait for the "come in" before entering. It's a fairly decent-sized room and there's not much to fill it. He keeps it clean, making sure things are organized and easy to deal with. Boxes line the wall opposite the door, a large long desk on one wall has his desktop computer with two screens on it and what is clearly a film set up, with a camera pointing downwards plus a mic on a movable arm stand with a pop filter. On the opposite wall is a smaller desk setup, this is new and holds my laptop plus accompanying accessories. There are sound dampening foam panels on the walls, really good for dealing with noise during recording. He shuts the door behind me before he takes me by the hand and brings me over to his setup when he's decided I've stood on the threshold long enough.

"Nervous?"

I snap out of my blank thoughts.

"Huh? Oh...Dunno. Maybe a little."

He smirks and pats my head.

"Silly darling. Got your head in the clouds."

A dumb nervous laugh leaves me.

"Sorry."

"No no, you're fine. You're not used to being on camera. It's understandable."

"Thanks."

He collects a box from beside his desk.

"I have a few items that I could use your help and input on."

"Okay. What are they?"

He pulls some stuff out. It seems tame enough. Most are just peanut butter-themed snacks.

"So what's with this?"

"I have a slight allergy to peanuts and other nut oils. I literally can't review these without you or a trip to the hospital."

"Seems logical."

"And if we tackle this real quick, I'm hoping you'll help with a sponsored video too."

"You got a sponsor? Freaking lucky."

"So you'll help me?"

"Of course, sweetie."

"Great!"

He slides my seat over and sits me down to join him at the filming spot. He turns on an overhead light and messes with things so we'll both be in the shot. It's weird seeing myself on his monitor. I don't like it. I don't feel pretty enough. What if I mess up and he ends up losing subscribers?

"Done, we can begin filming."

I swallow my anxiousness and try to keep calm.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Try to stay relaxed. I'll do most of the talking and you try the product. I ask a few questions and you answer. It's easy."

"Okay,"

"That's my girl."

He moves his mouse over the record button.

"And we're starting in three, two, one..."

With a simple click, the camera starts recording and he gets in the zone.

"Hello there viewers. Today's video will be a bit different, as I am joined by a very special guest today. This is my roommate/girlfriend and fellow content creator. Go on, introduce yourself darling."

I mentally slap myself and the words come out automatically.

"Hello there all you wonderful lovelies. Tis I, gorillazsan, aka Lynn. And today, I'm helping my boyfriend with trying out a few things for your entertainment pleasure."

This gives him a big smile.

"My dearest will be helping me finish off a long-overdue continuation to my old candy videos. Due to health reasons, I can't eat any of these, but she can. And I know I can trust her sense of taste. After all, she likes me."

I snicker.

"It's true. I do love this dork. Honestly, I don't know why he likes me. He's way out of my league."

He hugs my side and gives my cheek a little nuzzle.

"Awww...You're too sweet on me. And speaking of sweets..."

I look off to the side with a blush as he puts a couple of candies in front of me, holding one up for the camera and making motions with his hands in a way he usually doesn't do. It was probably for the camera. Once the ball gets rolling, things go very smoothly and my nerves aren't as frazzled. I've never had to go into detail about candy before, but then again, I didn't know I could be if given the shot. The amount of chocolate, the texture of peanut butter, the chewability, and even the feel of it in the mouth. If this is the normal stuff I can expect from helping him, I'm gonna suggest helping more.

"So, darling, what would you say were your favorites?"

"Well...The Kit-Kat surprised me, mostly because I didn't know they made a peanut butter bar. But it's good, very decent crunch, and didn't stick in my teeth like most tend to. But for something soft to melt in the mouth, I gotta stick with REESE'S cups. While the three main chocolates are all good, the dark variety will be my new go-to."

"And with that, I do believe we're out of time. Anyway, that was it for today folks. Links to all the products will be in the description. Consider liking, commenting, and subscribing. I'll be seeing you next time."

"Thank you all for watching. Hope you're having a good day or night depending on when you see this video. And remember to take care of yourselves. Till next time, my lovelies, bye-bye."

With outros said, he clicks on the mouse and the recording light shuts off.

"That was perfect. You're a natural."

"I was mostly ignoring the camera and trying to focus on talking to you."

I get up from my seat.

"Where are you going?"

"Gonna brush my teeth."

I pat his chair.

"I like the lingering flavor, but I like kissing you more without the threat of anaphylactic shock."

I walk away but he manages to catch a pat of his own.

"Thank you, darling."

I snicker. Cheeky bugger is almost as bad as Vio.

"I'll have the sponsor video stuff ready when you come back."

I guess I did a good job if he's eager to record again. I am wondering who the sponsor is. Most channels these days have mobile games, VPNs, energy drinks, or healthy food prep. There are some random ones though. Like stamps and sex toys. Wait...No...He couldn't. Stop...You're overthinking. He isn't going to cross such a line. There's no way such a sponsor would even reach out to him. Nothing in his content screams I'll talk about butt plugs or some shit. Yeah. It's going to be okay. He hasn't pushed any buttons by now, he isn't going to.

*gargle and spit*

Now relax and be cool. Everything is going to be fine.

I take a calming breath and return to the room.

"Ready for some fun, darling?"

...I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong.

Peter's topless yet wearing some sort of straps that go down into his pants and in his arms is a leather-looking mini-dress plus stockings.

"Peter...Who's the sponsor?"

"Promise not to freak out?"

I'm going to regret this.

"I promise."

"Adam & Eve dot come."

...Are you fucking kidding me?!

"You're not mad, are you?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"I promise, we're not going to do anything weird."

"You can't honestly say that while wearing...Is that a slave outfit?"

"...You know what one is?"

"Don't change this up. Give me one reason why I should even entertain this crazy idea."

"None of the products are toys. This is as tame as it could possibly be. I made sure of it."

You did what?

"...What does that mean?"

"I didn't arrange this. They've asked me to review things for a while now. And...maybe...I did think about a few things with you in mind. B-But! But...I know you're not very...comfortable...with certain things."

I narrow my eyes a little and exhale through my nose for a long minute.

"This isn't what's in our current level. We could've at least talked about it first."

He pouts, shoulders slacking and looking as though I kicked his nuts in. Damn it...I'm weak to him.

"If I agree, and that's a very BIG if...What would we be reviewing?"

He perks up but not fully...Gaining some hope in his eyes.

"The outfits. Bodypaint. A tickler. And some bondage things."

I look at him funny.

"Show me."

The clothing is tossed upwards and instinct has me catch it as he goes for the box.

"I swear...I picked only things I thought you'd be okay with."

He shows the contents to me. A heart-shaped bottle of pink paint. A crop that has feathers on one end. Smooth-looking yellow rope. And a weird restraint set that looks interesting.

"Well? Did I do good, darling?"

I look at him and can't help but picture a puppy wagging its tail seeking praise. I glance back down at the box and then the dress. Thank god it's not see-through. It's...kinda nice looking.

"If you're not comfortable, I understand. I don't want to..."

"Shorts."

"Huh?"

"I'm wearing shorts under this. I don't want my ass showing."

His eyes widen.

"You'll do it?"

"On one condition."

"Y-Yes! Anything."

I look him dead in those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

"If you want to do things like this again, talk to me. I don't like such extreme surprises sprung on me."

"O-Of course. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Good."

I move to him and kiss his forehead.

"You're lucky I love you."

"Thank you, darling. I love you too."

To quote a certain cowardly cartoon dog...The things I do for love.

…

One long internal pep-talk and maybe some cheek slapping later, I'm back in front of the camera with him. My nerves want to make me run till his arms hold me reassuringly.

"Try to relax. I know it's scary. But just do like you did before. Pretend there's no camera. It's just us. Nothing else. Focus all on me, okay?"

It takes some time but the trembling eventually subsides.

"That's it...Good girl."

He slips off my scrunchie.

"You look so beautiful, sun spot. I almost don't want to do this. I don't want others to see you. Only my eyes should get to witness such a sight."

I nuzzle him.

"We don't have to. It's your channel. Your video. You call the shots."

His hands take perch on my waist.

"Oh...If it were only that simple. I could turn it down and return the check, but...That money was spent in paying off your former landlord."

I frown.

"I'm sorry."

"No no, don't be. Getting you out of there was worth every penny and more. Yet that does mean, I am obligated to make this video. And I can't exactly test everything on myself."

I sigh in defeat.

"I understand."

He lets me go and I brace for this as he readies his mouse.

"We're recording in three, two, one...Hello there viewers. Now don't freak out or anything, this video is going to be 100% tame, if a little suggestive. Once more, I have enlisted my lovely partner here to help review today's products. Introduce yourself, darling."

This just started and already my cheeks are burning. Time to leave this world and go robot.

"Hello there all you wonderful lovelies. Tis I, gorillazsan, aka Lynn. And today's video is brought to you by our special sponsor."

"That's right, dear. Thanks go out to Adam & Eve dot com for sponsoring us today. Because lord knows this video would be screwed over more than a playboy bunny in a brothel if this wasn't being paid for."

"Nice analogy."

"Thanks. And with this sponsorship, they gave us a promo code. Use code SWEETHEART at checkout to save 50% off your total."

"50%? Damn, that's a sweet deal."

"With that out of the way...Starting this review off, you may have noticed our rather flattering attire. I'm sporting the Rip Off Harness Set. Feel and look like an ancient gladiator! Wage a war against boring sex with this revealing set! Based on gladiator-style costumes, the Rip Off Harness Set adds a kinky look and feel to your bedroom that makes it ideal for role-playing and fantasy. The set includes two separate pieces. The top piece fits around your chest. Simply slip your arms through the two sets of straps, leaving one strap running over your shoulder and the second strap running underneath your arm. Shiny metal rings in the front and back connect the straps together while leaving your chest almost completely bare. The bottom piece features an elastic waistband with adjustable metal snaps. The band comes with two rubber rings. One ring fits snugly around your shaft to boost your girth and length, while the second ring fits around your boys to help increase your staying power. The rings are removable so you can swap them out for your favorite penis ring or use them separately."

I cock my brow.

"Are you actually wearing the rings?"

"For the sake of reviewing a product to its fullest...I am."

He notes my still questioning gaze and comes to me, pulling the hem of his pants out just enough that only I get to see the proof.

"Sweetie...You are a man of focus, commitment, and sheer fucking will."

"You're god damn right."

We are so cringe.

"The Rip Off Harness Set comes in one size (28-42), only black in color, and is made from 82% polyester and 18% spandex with metal rings and snaps. The set is imported by Male Power and is machine washable for easy care. Though you might want to hand wash the rings."

"How does it feel?"

He stretches a bit.

"Not bad. It really hugs the form and it's not irritating. Movement is nonrestrictive and it kind of makes me feel like a badass."

I giggle.

"Well, you do look nice in it."

"You think so?"

"Granted, liking something is subjective and I'm biased as I'm smitten with you...But yeah. This gets my seal of looks good on ya, sweetie."

Color dusts his face with a smile before he gets back into the show.

"My darling is in two products. The Selene Studded Dress. Unleash your wild side in kinky studs! Ready to start a scandal? This jaw-dropping studded mini dress is sure to stun, flashing glimpses of your stomach and sides through crazy keyhole cutouts. Give us a turn, darling?"

I nod and give a slow twirl.

"The high-rise hemline and plunging front are perfect for showing off your sexy skin. Looks like leather, but is made from 4-way stretch material that lets you play in any position. Studs add a super-kinky edge! Slip into it and you'll feel its 4-way stretch material cling to your curves, creating a silhouette that's guaranteed to flatter. As you move �� whether you wield a crop or strain against bondage rope – the 4-way stretch keeps you comfortable and your mind on pleasure."

I pose a little bit.

"Ready to suit up? Zip up the back, then grab both stretchy shoulder straps and tie them behind your neck. The first time you're wearing this dress, you might want to check in a mirror to be sure it's perfectly positioned to show off your best assets. Now step into the matching studded g-string. Or leave it off! This sexy set pairs well with your favorite high heels, boots, or thigh-high stockings for any fantasy occasion from personal role-playing to fetish balls and more. After wearing, wash by hand in cold water. Line dry. It comes in sizes Small/Medium, Large/X-Large, Queen and in the color black.

"And no. I'm not wearing the g-string. I didn't even know there was one."

"Would you wear it?"

"And feel a constant wedgie? I think not."

I'm caught a bit off guard when he grabs me and lifts my leg up to show off the stocking.

"These lovely legs are wearing the Sheer Lace Top Stockings. Classic stockings go great with almost everything! These sexy lace-top stockings are sure to wow your lover...and everyone else!"

He keeps me steady as he props my leg to rest on his shoulder so that his hands are free and can feel/display the stocking.

"These classic thigh-high stockings are the ultimate accessory for your wardrobe, making your legs look long, slim, and super sexy! The stockings go great with almost any skirt or dress, so you can wear them around your bedroom, work, or virtually anywhere. The sexy lace-top hides underneath your dress during the day to give your confidence a sexy boost. Once your dress comes off that night, it's sure to give your lover a sexy surprise! The thigh-high stockings are trimmed in scalloped lace along the tops. The elastic lace helps keep your stockings up even without garters. Made from extra-durable nylon for long-lasting wear and to help prevent unsightly runs. Imported. They come in red, white, and this very fine black. Sizes are one size and queen one size."

I can't help but notice how his eyes hold a mischievous glint and the smirk is very teasing.

"Enjoying the view?"

"Immensely."

He's slow to put my leg down and retrieves the heart-shaped bottle.

"This is a new item, based on their HighOnLove Dark Chocolate Body Paint. A strawberry version. Wear, taste, and experience hemp-based body paint! This delicious aphrodisiac takes intimacy to an all-new level! Playtime gets even more tasty with this all-natural strawberry-flavored body paint made with hemp oil. Now you and your lover can paint each other's bodies with erotic designs or words of love...and lust! Get ready to experience euphoric sensations both you and your partner will love. 100% natural vegan ingredients, safe to consume. Crafted in small batches to assure the highest quality. Hemp oil adds euphoria & a creamy texture. Comes in a beautiful glass heart-shaped 3.4 oz. bottle. Bottle & applicator brush arrives inside a beautiful box & bow suitable for gifting. Designed and made in Canada. The HighOnLove brand is known for its luxurious line of sensual self-care products designed to take your pleasure to the next level."

He hands me the bottle and I get the idea. He's more exposed than me. He's the canvas I'm to paint on.

"Directions...Unscrew the top, then remove the stopper cap. Plunge the brush into a whipped, creamy texture and get creative with your partner. Apply on any areas of the body including erogenous zones. Contains sugar, for external use only."

I do as told, stirring it up and getting the brush coated before looking at him. His tummy is the most exposed spot. I hope he's not too ticklish as I begin to paint a heart to frame his navel. His faint fidgeting is cute.

"Don't worry. I'm almost done."

I make a little arrow detail for fun.

"Tah dah!"

"Awww!"

"Now to taste test."

Somewhere...Some messed up part of my brain woke up, stole control for a few seconds, and is having me give a lick instead of just licking off my finger. The shudder that leaves him is what snaps me out of it and embarrassment floods me.

"I...I...I have no words for the level of stupid I am currently feeling."

I recognize the look he has...He's biting his lip to restrain himself. It takes him a moment to find his voice again.

"*shaky* H-How did it taste?"

Focus you dingus!

"Like syrup."

"*sigh* Would you recommend it?"

I nod.

"Good."

"Sweetie, I'm so sorry about that."

He holds my face and whispers in my ear.

"Never apologize for making me feel good. Okay?"

I nod and he kisses my cheek.

"Good girl."

He takes the bottle back as I mentally kick my own ass.

"Due to the manufacturer and/or vendor restrictions, discounts on this item might not apply. Some items cannot be discounted at all. Other items can only be discounted by a certain percentage. When applying a coupon that exceeds that percentage, the discount taken will be automatically reduced to the maximum allowed amount."

I just about recovered from this self-humiliation when a sudden unknown feeling touches my side and makes me jump.

"Easy, darling. It's just me and the next item."

I'm going to freak out if I can't calm down.

"You alright?"

"Y-Yeah...Just..."

"It's okay to be nervous. But you're doing so well. I want you to know how proud I am of you for being so brave."

That...I so needed that.

"Thank you."

"My darling seems stressed. Luckily, the Scandal Feather Crop can be used to put your partner at ease as well as attention. Tickle, tease, and deliver an erotic sting!"

He runs the feathery end along my arms.

"Like your play nice and naughty? Discover two flavors of kinky fun in this double-ended crop! On one side, ultra-soft marabou feathers mercilessly tickle your playmate from top to toe. On the other end, a hand-stitched crop delivers a sexy sting! Go ahead, get scandalous! The Scandal Feather Crop is the perfect addition to any sensual toy collection. Dual ends let you instantly switch from an erotic tease to kinky correction and back again. Let your lover put on a blindfold or don't. Then use the feathered end of the Scandal Feather Crop to tickle any hot spot. The ultra-soft marabou feathers feel so good when brushed against bare skin. Take advantage of your lover's ticklish spots and let them beg for relief."

I feel a bit more relaxed, not paying attention when he pulls it away until the sudden sting has me yelp.

"When you're ready, try out the stitched crop end. You can use it to gently tap and guide your lover during kinky or blindfolded play, or to administer punishment to any misbehaving submissive. At 21" long, this crop ‘swishes' through the air for the ultimate fetish fun. Comes in black, but has this very nice reflective red pattern along the handle."

"A little warning next time, please?"

The cheeky grin he has tells me to be a bit more cautious.

"Next time? Are you saying you liked it?"

"What I'm saying is, there's usually a safe word established before doing such things."

He flinches.

"T-True. Sorry."

"It's fine. At the very least, you jolted my nerves back from the brink. Let's just finish up so we can go back to watching TV and cuddle."

He smiles and puts the crop away, getting the rope now.

"Boundless Bondage Rope. Rope your lover into a kinky adventure! Made expressly for bondage, this rope is the best bedroom restraint their sex toy testers have ever tried! For the ultimate bondage experience, you can't beat good ol' fashioned rope. But ordinary rope can slip and leave marks. That's where Boundless Bondage Rope comes in! Comes in black and yellow, I went with yellow for the sake of this demonstration. Mind putting your arms out for me, love?"

I nod and T-pose, giving him the space needed as he starts stringing me up.

"This special rope is made for bondage, so you can tie your lover up quickly, securely, and comfortably in no time. Its special blend of 70% cotton and 30% polyester with nickel-free zinc caps offers a slip-resistant surface to hold your knots...and your lover...tightly in place. Meanwhile, the sensual rope feels soft as silk against their skin. Your sub can wiggle and squirm all night long without finding any marks the next morning! With over 32 feet of rope to play with, the sky's the limit on your kinky fun! Bondage beginners can tie their lover to the bedposts or restrain their wrists. More experienced users can hogtie their sub or wrap the rope around their torso and arms. You can even experiment with some Japanese shibari techniques for the kinkiest rope games around. With the Boundless Bondage Rope, anything goes...until someone uses the safe word!"

I roll my eyes.

"Oh, the irony."

"What's that?"

"This is kinda what I used to do as a bored kid."

"Tie yourself up?"

"I had no friends, a boundless imagination, and double joints. I would stuff myself into things and tie myself up to try to see if I could escape."

"Interesting."

"Like I said, I was a bored kid."

"Ever discover anything you couldn't get out of?"

"I was only limited as I grew up. No way in hell I can fit into my old suitcase again."

He whistles impressed.

"Shame, I'm not binding your arms. We could've tested that."

"We could though."

"No, the last product is more in line with that. Heh...Though I am interested in seeing if you can wriggle out of it."

He fastens the rope and stands back to admire his work. A chest harness with diamond patterns.

"Not my best, but it's good enough for this."

"Wow. You are such a knotty boy."

He smirks.

"I'm knot one to brag, but I do enjoy tying you up in all this."

"Okay...If we keep punning, we're gonna lose watchers."

He scoffs.

"It's fine. Let's keep having fun. That's all that really matters."

He's not wrong there. This is fun.

"It's not super tight on you?"

I move around.

"Nope. It's a little weird. I can feel it and yet can't. You know? Like, if I wasn't aware of it, I'd fail to register the rope is even there."

"I didn't tighten it as much as I could've. Now's not the time to really put you through that."

"Oh? You think you're getting another shot at tying me up? You, sir, are quite ballsy."

He chuckles.

"Well, I don't hear you saying you're opposed to the idea."

I shrug.

"Touché."

Finally, he gets the last item from the box.

"Lastly, we have the Lux Fetish Adjustable Neck & Wristraint Set. Sexy bondage play in an instant. Whether you're a bondage expert on the go or a BDSM beginner, this set of sexy black restraints lets you play in dozens of wild ways. Wear its bondage strap in front or behind to quickly and safely ‘lock' up wrists in a set of matching cuffs. Cuffs clip onto your choice of metal D-rings for a strong, secure hold that's a pleasure to pull and strain against."

He glances at me and I sigh.

"Yeah yeah...Just tell me what to do."

"Turn around for me and move your hair out of the way."

I turn my back to the camera and bring my hair to the front of me to free up my neck.

"Make kinky play as easy as it is stylish with the Lux Fetish Adjustable Neck & Wristraint Set. This bondage set doesn't need beds or doorways – you wear it right against your sexy skin. Just fasten the adjustable collar around your neck and the adjustable straps around your waist to secure the center restraint strap in front of your body or behind."

I feel said collar being put on me, finding it interesting it's Velcro but that does seem safer than clasps. The main 18" long and 2" wide center strap is laid down on my back before he fastens the adjustable waist strap.

"Now put on the padded wrist cuffs and use the attached clips to ‘lock' your cuffs to any combination of the strap's secure metal D-rings 9 metal D-rings in total, 4 at each side and 1 at the bottom of the strap. Go ahead and pull, tug, and strain against the cuffs and straps; they're designed for a strong hold that stands up to the wildest bondage games."

He cuffs my wrists and locks my hands on the very bottom ring, right on my ass.

"Need to make a quick escape? Velcro closures at the collar and wrists release in an instant. Unclip the waist straps and you're done. When you're finished playing, these bondage restraints clean up easily with mild soap and warm water. Fits up to a 44" waist and fits most bodies, both for men and women. Made from neoprene, nylon, and metal. Now then, my sweet escape artist...Mind testing your skills?"

I huff. I know damn well the placement of my hands is not ideal for tugging. There's no point in trying to undo the neck strap. So I gauge the space around my wrist. Unlike the rope he's made this tight, I can still move them but wiggle room isn't a thing.

"Well?"

"If given some time, I might be able to force squeeze my wrists out. But that'll take a while."

"You've done this before?"

"All I'm willing to say is doing it with handcuffs is a very painful experience. What with metal scrapping bone and such."

"...You really were bored as a kid."

"I know."

He lets out a little laugh and turns me around to face the camera, putting his arm over my shoulders.

"Well, viewers, that's all we have for this video. Once again, we thank our sponsor Adam & Eve dot com for letting us test/show off such fun items. And remember to use the promo code SWEETHEART at checkout to save 50% off your entire order."

"You'd have to be nuts not to use such amazing savings."

"Anyway, that's it for this video. Links to all the products will be in the description. Consider liking, commenting, and subscribing. I'll be seeing you next time."

"Thank you all for watching. Hope you're having a good day or night depending on when you see this video. And remember to take care of yourselves. Till next time, my lovelies, bye-bye."

He parts from me and ends the recording.

"That was great, darling. You were fantastic."

I don't feel like it was. I feel like I made his time editing harder.

"If you say so."

He comes back to me.

"Still upset about the paint thing?"

"I just feel dumb about it. I don't know why I did it."

"Well, maybe you're just hungry."

"Maybe."

"And as your boyfriend, I'm obligated to feed you."

He snatches the collar and pulls to make my head level with his chest.

"P-Peter?"

He chuckles and the realization that I'm restrained sinks in.

"My dearest, sun spot..."

The drop in his tone gives me chills.

"If you're still hungry, I know just what you can snack on."

He pulls the collar more and gets me to be waist level.

"Your heart is still on me, darling. Be a good girl and clean me up."

You did this to yourself. You agreed to this and knew something like this could happen. Still...He could be doing worse. He just wants the heart cleaned off. I can do that. It's not being recorded. Just relax.

"Please, dear. You don't want me to get all sticky, do you?"

I swallow the lump in my throat and hesitantly bring my tongue out. Slowly I trace over the design, lightly lapping to really remove the paint. I try to not pay attention to anything else, but the quivering under my tongue tempts me to look up at him and the sight has warmth flood my senses. His face holds a look of absolute primal bliss, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his breathing ragged. The lustful gaze when he notes my gawking of him has hearts swimming in my eyes.

"Mmmmmm...Oh, sun spot...That face your making...*shudder* The things I want to do to your mouth while I have you under my control..."

My spine shivers, it doesn't take much to imagine what he wants, especially when I'm in this position. Maybe...Maybe that's how I can make it up to him. But can I really go through with it? If I do it, he'll expect it more in the future. Would I even be able to get him to not finish in my mouth? I need courage.

"Sweetie..."

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

There's no hesitation when he pulls me up and smothers his mouth over mine. His arms wrap around me, doing the holding that I can't at the moment. But just because he's bound me, that doesn't mean I'll completely under his will. We didn't establish any rules for this.

His eyes widen as I make the first move, nipping and sucking on his lips. He gets the message and shoves his tongue into my mouth. The warmth of his tongue is something I love, it lulls me into feeling his need, and his mounting desire for me sparks that dormant drive inside that gives me a need for him. I let him explore my mouth and his hold tightens. My lips tightened around his tongue, gently suckling on it to earn me those groans that make my heart soar and lord knows I want to hear more. Each time my tongue slide along his, his throat rumbles with the dirtiest neediest grunts I've ever heard from him. God, I love it when he's vocal!

He struggles to break fervent kisses.

"Darling...*smooch* I need...*smooch* I need you...*smooch* So...badly..."

He kisses hungrily down my neck, sinking his teeth in then sucking on the spot that leaves me weak and moaning.

"Oooooh...Peter..."

His strong arms hold me flush with his body. His name on my lips in a needy moan has him responding with his own steamy rendition of my name in his husky voice. I barely registered as he slips his knee between your legs and moves me to grind on him. His kind eyes are now like that of a lecherous voracious predator, saliva trailing down his jaw.

"Please...Please...I need you, so much...I need...To be inside you..."

He growls in a rumble that breaks me.

"*shudder* Take your pants off."

He wastes no time to just about tear his pants off and his eagerness makes him yank at my shorts.

"S-Stop!"

He freezes, lifting his hands up to show he means no harm. I take a moment to settle my breathing.

"No touching me."

He looks at me funny.

"B-But I thought you..."

"I'm not ready for that...*huff* But you've been so good and patient with me. I want to make sure you know exactly how much I appreciate you. Now...Take those rings off. I don't want to chip a tooth."

The gears turn in his head for a moment before realization makes him gasp a swear, taking the rings off his dick and balls carefully.

"Y-You know, darling...*gulp* You d-don't have to unless y-you really..."

"Do you want me not to do it?"

He bites his lip hard and he twitches down there.

"N-No, please...I...I need it."

I kiss his nose.

"I'll do my best. But try to control yourself a bit. My gag reflex is weak."

He nods vigorously. I psyche myself out as I kneel to meet his already hard and lightly dripping member. He pre-cums so easy for me. Makes me wonder just how horny or backed-up he gets in a day. I'm still uncertain about going right for it, so I lean more for his hip and start things by giving him kisses. His shaky breathing is just the start of things as I slowly approach the needy appendage. Once I've reached the base, his hands come to my head and massages my scalp. It feels so good. I'm purring.

"F-F-Fuck...Don't let this be a dream...Let me know I'm awake, darling."

He moans when I make contact with his hardness and he licks his lips in anticipation.

What a look on him. Such wild electricity zips through me at such a sight. It's exhilarating. This man wants me, wants what I can give and no one else can have. And I love it, love being desired like this, love being looked at like this, like I'm the sexiest thing on the planet. It's a little overwhelming but oh so exciting.

"Do you need to sit for this?"

He shakes his head.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

His tone is one I don't want to question again. The sound of him holding back carries a beastly growl. So I bite the bullet and glance my lips on his shaft before test touching with my tongue. The delighted coo that leaves him is sweet. He resumes messaging my scalp as I pepper his dick with kisses, mentally trying to figure out how to handle something of such size. One of his hands dips down to my mouth and pops his thumb in, pushing down to prop it open.

"Use your tongue more. If that's okay?"

A strange mix of a request and a suggestion. But it's a doable one. I stick my tongue out and he presses the tip to it. The slimy texture and foreign taste trigger the reaction to pull away, but he keeps me still.

"It's okay. You'll get used to it. Take your time, sun spot."

I want to back down. The taste broke my nerves. Not bad but weird. But I know I can't. I owe him this. I talked big. Backing out now would be a bitch more and hurt his feelings among other things. I bring my tongue back out and he leaves the tip on it as it dribbles. It's bitter and under that is salty, the musky scent flooding my senses isn't helping either. Why do people like this?!

"*shudder* Ready?"

Well...It was nice having a working jaw while it lasted.

I nod and he makes me open wide as he pulls my face to him, inching himself across my tongue till he triggers me to gag.

"*coughs* Too...Too much...*coughs*"

He whimpers.

"You do have a weak gag reflex. That explains so much why it sounds like you're dying when brushing your teeth."

I calm down and brace myself for another try.

"Are you sure?"

I nod.

"Just let me set the depth and you can choose the pace."

He caresses my cheeks with a soft smile.

"I love you. I don't deserve an angel like you."

"Then don't let this angel's resolve fly away."

With a better understanding, I take him into my mouth and find the okay spot where it's safe. Now my issue is breathing through my nose. Knowing now how far he can go, he holds the sides of my head and starts making me bob on him at a fairly okay speed. The need for air has me experiment to either open more or move him for space. This pleases him if the sounds he's making are anything to go by. Curiosity has me looking up and we make eye contact, making him groan even louder.

"*panting* Fuck...Fuck...Fuck...Fuck..."

Really? He's feeling that good? By something I'm doing? Oh...Oh my~.

Something in me is tickled into a certain mood and a new confidence courses through me. A need, no, a want begins to excite me. I want to make this man cum. I want to be the reason he falls apart. I want to hear him erupt in absolute ecstasy with my name on his lips. All my worries and lingering doubts suddenly vanish. He fucking loves this. He loves everything about it. And making him feel that way fills me with unbelievable warmth.

I purr around him, using the flat of my tongue to press and rub just below the head. He moans and rolls his hips into the sensation, another taste of his essence hits my taste buds. It's not as bad as before. I curl my tongue along his length then over the head's slit and repeat this sucking action, losing myself in the ache building in my jaw.

"*panting* Yes, darling...Just like that...Don't stop..."

I watch as his eyes roll back and flutter closed. Fuck that's hot. My core quakes in heat, legs rubbing against each other in the pursuit of friction. Damn these cuffs! I want to be touched! Need clouds my mind and I give in to naughtiness. Relaxing my throat, I start taking him in deeper and moaning on him. The pleasure that burns his veins has his grip on my head strengthening and the bobbing speed turns into raw thrusting. My nose slams into his pubis over and over as he fucks my mouth. Losing himself in the feeling. I gag sporadically but his member doesn't hit the reflex long enough to cause any issues, just a couple of coughs that squeeze on him and get him growling.

"*panting* Sun...S-Sun spot...I'm close...Soooooooo close..."

I look at him and feel him throb against my tongue.

"*panting* C-Can...Can...Can I...in y-you...?"

He wants to...in my mouth? Uh...I...I don't think I'm able to handle that load...pun not intended.

I do my best to shake my head and he winces.

"*panting* Please...?"

I shake again and he groans harshly.

"*panting* Okay! Okay...I...*shudder* I...I won't...N-N-Not there...But...*gulp* Take all of me first...?"

I can already feel how bad this is gonna be but I nod. He coos and grabs fist fulls of my hair.

"*panting* Hold your breath!"

I nearly don't get to when he jams his entire length down my throat, bypassing the gag reflex but stretching my throat painfully to fit him. He holds me there, sheathed completely and my face flush against his flesh. I can't help the need to gulp around him and his throbbing increases with each clenching attempt to swallow. The way the muscle constricts around his dick turns him into a breathless babbling mess, the ability to think about anything is gone, his mind full of white static. His breathing picks up like he's about to run out of breath and he pushes me off him with a sharp wet pop, practically screaming as his inexorable climax hits. His orgasm hits with such stunning force he's knocked onto his ass, shouting and shaking in bliss, overwhelmed as every nerve ending in his body flamed out simultaneously as he just about passes out. On my end though, he busted his load partly on my face and down the front of me. I have to keep one eye closed due to the shot. This, in my book, is still better than had he came down my throat.

"Sweetie? *cough* You okay?"

My throat is sore are hell now. He merely mutters something incoherently, utterly spent.

"I love you too, Peter."

He's not going anywhere anytime soon, let alone has the ability to help me out of all this gear. Time to improvise, MacGyver style.

…

After that, Peter has been even more affectionate. Can't say I'm surprised. It's not every day he gets a random blowjob. But I was content with the attention he gave me once he recovered. I slept like a log after the fun he rewarded me for that. Still...After a couple of days, I did happen to notice something odd. That special sponsor video never popped up. So I asked about it. He showed me that it is on his channel but is marked private. The only one to have viewed it is the sponsor so that it fulfills the rules of the contract by being posted. Though I get the feeling he's gonna delete it later when the chance to do so without question is available. That's fine with me. I'd rather not have such a thing floating around on the net.

"What are you thinking about, darling?"

"Nothing. Just letting my thoughts wander."

I was laying on the sofa listening to music when he slide behind me and has been spooning me for a good hour now, tracing shapes absentmindedly into my side.

"You know...We've been fooling around a lot."

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking...How is it we're still on lever three?"

I was worried he'd bring this up.

"Maybe...Maybe we're sort of...Not?"

His hand stops and holds my waist.

"Oh?"

"N-Not saying we're full-on level four. It's kinda like...3.8?"

"And what happens at level four again? It's been a while since we talked about it."

I honestly haven't given it any thought. Given how things are going...It's likely that...

"Are you scared of it?"

I flinch.

"Huh?"

"Sex. Even if it's me, are you scared of going all the way?"

I don't want to have this talk.

"It doesn't have to be scary. You know I'd never pressure you into it."

"I know. It's just...Thinking about it unsettles me. I never thought I'd get this far. Let alone find someone like you. My other half."

His grip only tightens as he nuzzles into my ear, his breath peppers my neck before his teeth skim ever so lightly along the skin of my neck. The shudder that leaves me has me feeling his smile.

"My sweet darling. My love. My soulmate. You bring my life joy where all there was before was nothing. All I want is for you to be happy while being with me. And if sex makes you uncomfortable, then there's no rush. I'll support you in everything you want to do. Besides..."

I squirm as he slips his hand under my shirt to feel my chest with building need.

"I want you to feel as strongly for me as I do for you~."

"*whimper* Why must you rile me up like this?"

"What can I say?"

He licks my nape.

"I'm always tempted to indulge myself in you~."

He whispers in my ear, his finger sneaking under my bra to knead my breasts. Oh, just how much does he know of my body and its likings? Because he always seems to know where to touch to get a positive response. A lewd groan escapes me as I shut my eyes, my body beginning to want more. He senses this, kissing my neck and purring deeply as I feel him grind against me.

*knock-knock*

The sudden sound has us pause. Who could that be? Who on earth even knows where we live? I don't even know that and I live here!

"Stay here."

I sit up as he moves to answer the door. It's weird. Why does this actually frighten me?

He opens it and immediately groans in annoyance.

"Oh...It's you."

"Geez, can you sound any more exasperated?"

That voice...It's a woman's.

"Why are you here?"

"You contacted me, remember?"

"I asked for you to send me copies in the mail. Not for you to just show up out of the blue."

"After the stunt you pulled to burn all your originals, I knew something had to be up if you suddenly wanted copies of mine and not the originals. So tell me...What's your deal?"

"I don't have to tell you anything. Just give me what I asked for and get lost."

"Have you talked to mom recently?"

He flinches. This gains my attention. Is this...his sister?

"I...I have nothing to say to that woman."

"You're not seeing the doctor either, huh? You know what mom said. You have to see her till your better."

"I am better. I don't need that bitch messing with my head anymore."

"Oh? Then if that's the case, why don't we call her up and she can tell us."

"Don't you fucking dare!"

I don't like where this is going. Against my instincts...

"Sweetie?"

I speak up and make myself known.

"Is everything alright?"

The visitor pushes him out of the way and her eyes lock on me. She has a white body with a round head and short white hair in a kind of a bob cut. She also has dark bags under her blue eyes, much like her brother, and a beauty mark under her right eye. She wears a pink headband, a pink t-shirt with the same heart symbol Peter has only reversed, a black hoodie, a black mini skirt, black stockings, and short black boots with pink soles. Kind of cute, or I'd think that if she wasn't staring so hard at me.

"Peter...Who is that?"

He sighs and rubs his face.

"Sarah, this is Lynsie. My girlfriend. Lynsie, this is Sarah. My sister."

This is Sarah? The one he hates so much? Okay...Make a decent first impression and maybe things won't explode. I wave innocently.

"Hello."

She blinks a few times and returns the gesture with a smile.

"Oh, hello there."

Her tone suddenly is very friendly and sweet. The shift rubs me the wrong way.

I have a bad feeling about this.