jakjourneys

[xxchumanixx]

Glimpses

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, Bucky (yes, he's a warning), reader has the ability to show other people images in their head (does that make sense?), otherwise not described, spoilers for fatws

Word count: tba

Authors note: To be honest, I've been working on this for months, bit by bit. I didn't have much time to write or post something lately, and somehow, the motivation went with it. But I love this man to no end, and I had to finish this (for my sake, too). Im not a hundred percent happy with it, but we're just gonna roll with it.

I hope you enjoy it.

It gnawed at you, gripping you with a hand made of iron, it's icy fingers sending chills down your spine.

How could she do this to you?

Someone you once envied for being related to Peggy Carter, one of the founders of SHIELD, maybe one of the coolest persons to have ever existed.

Now, you couldn't help but pity Sharon Carter.

Sam nudged your foot with his, ripping you out of your thoughts. "What's up with you?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed.

Blinking at him, you tried to grasp what he was talking about, before shaking your head with a sigh.

"When Sharon was pardoned, I heard her say something I don't know what to think of..." you mumbled, biting your cheek. Sam rose a brow in return, Bucky's furrowing.

You were sitting in a private jet, a small table in front of you, with Sam sitting diagonally to your right and Bucky to your left.

"When she came out, she dialed someone, saying something about super soldiers being off the menu, weapons and 'should be something for everyone'." you recited what you had heard her say.

You had been there to congratulate her, welcome her back. But, when she stepped out the building, immediately dialing someone, you hid back in the crowd, carefully listening.

Yeah, eavesdropping wasn't nice, but something urged you to do it.

And you had been right.

"Nah," Sam made, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You must have misheard her."

Licking your lip, you shook your own head. "No, I know what I've heard."

Sam's brows furrowed, eyes trained on you. "Y/N, I'm sure you just misheard her." he repeated his words softer.

Eyes widening, your mouth was agape. "Sam-" you started, but he cut you off. "No, Y/N-" "Sam!" with a yell of his name and a slam of your hand on the table, you locked eyes, letting your power whir to life.

You could see your own eyes change color in his iris, energy flowing through you, as you forced him to see what you've seen.

Sharon left the building with a smile on her face, radiating confidence. Pulling out her phone she dialed a number, slowly walking further down the steps.

"Start lining up our buyers." she spoke into the phone, seemingly not caring enough to watch her surroundings for anyone listening. "Super Soldiers might be off the menu, but we're about to have full access to government secrets, prototype weapons, you name it. Should be something for everyone."

With that, she left, leaving you speechless.

With a gasp, you let go of Sam's mind, rapidly blinking to get the dry feeling out of your eyes.

Sam stared onto the table, swallowing. His hands trembled slightly, whilst Bucky grew impatient.

"Can I see?" he wanted to know, eagerly leaning forward in his seat. It made you chuckle, despite the dread in your stomach.

Letting Bucky enter your mind, was something different.

You weren't able to control your powers a hundred percent, which would be a risk, when letting someone in. There could be emotions or flashes of memories that could seep through, something you didn't want.

Especially not with him.

You had been in love with him for a while now, but never dared to make a move on it. Not, when he was so far out of your league.

Swallowing, you nodded hesitantly.

Locking eyes with Bucky's blue ones, you let your power come to life again, heart pounding faster.

You showed him the same thing you showed Sam, trying your hardest to concentrate only on the memory of Sharon, nothing else.

Slipping back out of it, you blinked rapidly, whilst Bucky sat frozen in his chair.

Shaking your head, you felt it deep in your chest, slowly making its way up - luckily for you, you had cut the connection already.

It was a memory you cherished deep in your heart, one of your favorites. It was Bucky, smiling happily.

Most of the time his smile didn't reach his eyes, not like it should have. He wasn't as carefree, at least not until he teamed up with Sam.

He was lying on the sofa in Sarah's house, Sam's sister. The kids had been playing with the shield, whilst Bucky was still sleeping on the couch.

You had been sitting at the small coffee table, able to see him, but he wouldn't see you at first glance.

When he woke up, softly calling out to the kids with a smile and a peace, they panicked, putting the shield back into its bag.

It had you smiling into your mug, quietly chuckling, as you sipped your coffee.

His smile was real, beautiful and rare. His eyes sparkled with joy, sunlight catching in them, highlighting the blue of his iris, as he leaned back into the cushions.

It showed the Bucky he was back in the forties, slowly peeling away layer after layer of his hardened shell.

Closing your eyes, you willed the memory away, slowly shaking your head, to get rid of it.

When your eyes opened again, looking back up at Bucky and Sam, Bucky's eyes were glued to your face.

His brows were furrowed, deep in thought. His mouth opened the slightest bit, but it closed again, like a fish.

Your own eyes widened the slightest bit, belly churning, as you realized.

The faint line connecting your minds - it was still there.

Your breathing fastened, fist clenching, as you looked at Sam, trying to come up with something to pull him into a conversation - but your mind was as blank as a wall.

Seriously, now you were able to think of nothing?

Your hands began to sweat, as you tried your hardest not to burst into tears. It was exactly what you had feared to happen, not being able to control it.

Mostly the reason you never really let Bucky enter your mind, fearing what he might find.

"Do you think-" Sam started, but cut himself off with a shake of his head. "That she's the power broker?" you returned, eager to flee into this conversation, but it was over just as fast as it had begun. "Yeah."

Bucky didn't say anything, eyes fixed on his hands that were seated in his lap.

Sam sighed, one hand swiping over his face. He was tired, you could tell. Being the new Captain America wasn't easy.

"Excuse me." you mumbled, standing up, before heading out of the room and towards the bathroom, where you locked yourself in.

You choked on a breath, fighting the tears, but soon losing. How could you be so careless? You should have known it wouldn't end well, letting him enter your mind.

But it would have been suspicious not to show him, either.

You could only hope you'd get out of this unscathed.

_____

Sam cleared his throat in discomfort, fist clenching on the table.

If he hadn't known your memories were true, he would have brushed it off with a laugh. He'd worked with Sharon before, and she never seemed like someone who would turn on her own people.

How long, til she would turn on them?

Eyes lifting, they met the side of Bucky's face. He was quiet, more than usual.

"How can she do this to us, after all we went through?" Sam asked in a mumble, ripping Bucky from his thoughts with a "Huh?".

Brows furrowing, Sam tried to analyze the man he didn't want to call friend, even though he'd become exactly that over the past few weeks.

"What's up with you?" he asked, frown deepening. Sure, Bucky had his moments where his thoughts drifted off, but not like this.

Not when you just basically fled a minute ago.

Bucky shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "I don't know." he gave back, forehead wrinkling in thought.

Hell, if he could only make sense of what he'd seen.

"What happened?" Sam dug deeper, having noticed how long you two had been silent when showing him what you'd seen.

It took longer than he thought needed to.

Bucky wiped over his face.

It was like he switched bodies with you when that memory of yours slipped through. He could feel everything.

Every little emotion.

"I-" Bucky was searching for the right words as he suddenly stood. "Excuse me."

He followed into the direction you'd taken off to, causing Sam to frown even more.

He stopped in front of the bathroom door, softly knocking before the courage could have left him.

"Y/N?" he called out, heart beating unsteady. "Can we please talk?"

You flinched, perched on the toilet seat as you desperately wiped at your face. "Why?" you called out, giving your very best to sound neutral.

You could hear him hesitate, the little sounds that left his mouth that he himself didn't even notice. "Please?" he then just asked, fingers drumming on the door.

You hesitated as well, not sure if you should open the door to face your imminent death of shame.

With a heavy sigh you got up, though, shaky fingers fumbling for the lock, taking a moment longer to unlock it before it was pushed open by Bucky merging into the small bathroom, cramping the space even more.

You stumbled back, colliding with the sink.

"What was that?" Bucky wanted to know, eyes on yours, searching them for anything that gave him an answer. "What?" you gave back, deciding to act dumb.

Maybe he wouldn't notice.

Of course he would, you idiot.

His brows furrowed, a look of confusion and bewilderment crossing his features. "You know exactly what I mean, don't play dumb now, Y/N!" he shot back, not amused.

See?

Told you so.

You swallowed the lump that somehow didn't want to budge, blocking your airways. "I- I don't know." you stuttered out, mentally cursing yourself for being so reckless to let him enter your mind in the first place.

Bucky frowned even more, not sure whether to believe you or not. After all he had felt it, not sure if he really wanted to know, though.

He didn't dare to hope.

You inhaled shakily, trying to force your heart rate down, to calm yourself a little.

Easier said than done.

"Are you sure you don't know?" Bucky pressed, voice tinged with something you couldn't place. "Because I'm sure I didn't imagine what I've seen or felt."

You flinched at that.

He knew, he knew for fucks sake, and there was no way you could have made him believe that it was nothing.

To be fair, you wouldn't have believed yourself, either.

No one would feel immense happiness, content, and warmth just because of a person they saw as a friend.

Come on.

You swallowed, averting your gaze. There was no backing out now, not when Bucky literally blocked the exit with his presence and muscular body.

"You- you felt it." you mumbled, biting your cheek as your cheeks warmed up slightly, gaze glued to the floor.

Bucky huffed, searching for words for a moment. How was he to explain what he felt?

"It- it was like I was back in the forties." he began, licking his lips. "I felt content, happy. And then I saw this... this memory of yours from me. I didn't know you were there, I didn't see you. What does this mean?"

He sounded desperate, and you didn't know whether it was because he didn't want your feelings for him or if it was the exact opposite.

Your name fell from his parted lips when you didn't answer, and had you looked up into his cerulean eyes, you'd seen the desperation, too.

"I can't tell you." you eventually mumbled, biting your cheek raw. "What? Why?" Bucky gave back, eyes widening before he frowned. "Y/N, what does this mean? Please, tell me!"

You looked up at him, your own brows furrowed in a frown.

Why did he want to know so badly?

"You know what it means." you gave back, doing your best not to avoid his gaze this time. His lips parted a fraction before he shook his head. "No." he said. "I want you to say it."

You heart stumbled once more, threatening to burst from the pace it was going at.

Did he want to have something to laugh about? Did he want to make a fool of you?

Swallowing, you shook your head. "No." you breathed out. "I can't."

His gaze hardened slightly, blue irises growing darker. "Say it." he repeated himself, not going to back down.

He'd rather go back to HYDRA than let this opportunity, this chance pass.

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head again. But before you had the chance to decline once more, he said it again, this time louder. "Say it!"

"I have feelings for you!" you blurted out loudly, his agitation causing you to crack and slip up.

Suddenly, the room grew eerily silent, the ringing in your ears blocking out his harsh breathing. His heart was racing way too fast for a man his age, and he forgot how to breathe for a moment.

He had hoped to hear these words, after all they were the only logical explanation, yet he was speechless. Didn't know how to react.

It's never like it is in your dreams.

Especially not when a dream suddenly comes true.

You shrinked back mentally and physically, his lack of response unsettling. It made you more nervous than you already were, hands sweating as you desperately tried to keep your shit together.

Why didn't he say anything?

When you wanted to push past him, and out of the small bathroom, his metal hand wrapped around your wrist. Your sudden movement had broken him out of his stupor, and he simply couldn't just let you go.

Before you knew it, he had tugged you back in front of him, his lips pressing against yours in a searing kiss.

It wasn't gentle, it was hard and rushed, as he tried to somehow tell you what his vocal cords weren't able to at the moment.

You gasped for air, not prepared for being hauled back and kissed breathless like that.

Bucky greedily took the invitation that wasn't one, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring it before it tangled with yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his own around your waist as he tugged you closer.

You tasted sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted in his life.

Gasping for breath he let go of your mouth, eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Don't go." he breathed out shakily, arms wrapping tighter around you like he was scared you'd suddenly vanish if he let go. "Please. There's so much I need to tell you. So please, don't go. I need you, Y/N."

You watched his lashes flutter as he inhaled shakily before his eyes opened. His words had your heart beating faster again, leaving you wanting more.

"What? B-Bucky-" you started, confused because you were so sure he'd reject you.

"No." he cut you off, holding your face in his hands. "I love you."

There it was, out in the open. His most vulnerable moment since HYDRA and he delved into it headfirst. "You have no clue how much I love you, how much these words and these... glimpses mean to me, doll."

You inhaled shakily, every emotion rushing through you at once.

"I just never thought you'd feel the same, deem me worthy of someone as angelic as you."

Your heart ached at his self-deprecating words.

"Bucky," you breathed out his name, shaking your head in his grip. "You're far more worthy than you think you are. You deserve everything good and more."

He grimaced slightly, still not used to being a normal human again. "That's an argument for another time." he said, sending you a crooked smile.

He didn't want to fight right now, not when he much rather wanted to pepper your skin with kisses. And that he did. He kissed everywhere he reached, ignoring your giggles of protest before his lips met yours, silencing you.

It was a feeling that quickly got you addicted.

After a few moments, you broke the kiss, and he placed your head on his chest, inahling your familiar scent.

"Was it intenional?" Bucky wanted to know after a few moments of savoring your warmth, arms circled around you.

It felt really good to hold you like that.

You grimaced slightly. "No, of course not." you gave back. "I can't always control it. Besides, I never thought you'd want me."

"Why?" he asked, confusion lacing his voice as he pulled back slightly to look down at you. "Because I'm weird." you explained, blushing as you averted your gaze. Bucky huffed, using his finger to tilt your chin back up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Baby, weird is my second name." he gave back softly. "Maybe I need a little extra weird."

You wanted to respond something, how you would love to be his extra portion weird, as it suddenly knocked on the door loudly.

"Hurry up, I need to pee!"

Tag List:

@ava @sapphirebarnes @skywalker0809 @freyathehuntress @queenslandlover-93 @judig92

[pandapetals]

Shadows of the Past

You’d been in town for exactly one year, two days, and six hours when he walked into the diner. After that, everything changed. Logan became the love of your life and the two of you bonded over trauma in the past while trying to move forward. *or basically a wolverine origins movie AU of sorts.

a/n: decided to post this fic on here all in one go so yall don't have to go to ao3. i wrote this months ago when i first joined the fandom so it may not be the best or edited well and i don't feel like reading it to make sure.

lumberjack logan howlett x fem!reader - no use of y/n, no reader description but reader does have mutant powers, x-men origins au, evenutal smut, small town, memory loss, angst, eventual romance, softie logan

word count: 27k

In the heart of a remote, small town, ancient trees towered like sentinels over the quiet streets, their canopies forming a vast, emerald roof that seemed to stretch on forever. The few who lived here either cherished the untouched beauty of the wilderness or were lumberjacks, carving out their lives one tree at a time. It was the perfect place to disappear.

That was why you chose it—after stumbling upon the town during a restless drive, searching for somewhere to lay low for the night.

People kept to themselves, though you caught the occasional whisper with your name in it. You couldn’t blame them—any newcomer in a place like this would set nerves on edge. But over time, you proved you were just like them. You took a job as a waitress at the local diner and settled into the motel down the road, quietly trying to carve out a life for yourself.

No one thought twice about you—until he showed up. You’d been in town for exactly one year, two days, and six hours when he walked into the diner. His rugged features and rough manner could have easily blended in with the locals, but something about him stood out like a dark cloud on the horizon. 

Everyone could sense something was simmering beneath the surface. He had the look of a man itching for a fight, desperate to feel anything at all. The last thing folks wanted here was trouble—and neither did you. You had run from men like him before.

He slid into one of the booths, his eyes sweeping the room with a calculating gaze. A tight white tank peeked out from beneath an unbuttoned plaid shirt, as if he wore the local uniform but with a defiant edge.

You had no choice but to face him. Being the only waitress meant there was no one else to send.

With a steadying breath, you picked up a menu and cautiously approached the booth, forcing a smile as you set it down in front of him. He didn’t glance up, didn’t even flinch. His eyes remained locked on the large window, something outside holding his attention in a vise-like grip.

“Welcome to the Rusty Spoon. What can I get you?” you asked, your voice steady but tinged with an edge of unease.

“You live here?” His eyes stayed fixed on the window as if the answer didn’t matter as much as what he was watching.

You nodded slowly, then noticed his gaze shifted. “Yeah. Who’s asking?” You tried to sound tough, but the words came out shaky, betraying your nerves.

Finally, he turned his head and looked up at you, his brown eyes intense, pinning you in place. “Someone who’s trying to—” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze locking onto yours. For a moment, his tough exterior faltered, and something in his eyes made you pause. There was a pain there, deep and raw, and suddenly, you realized he wasn’t the man you first thought he was.

“It’s a good place to live,” you replied quickly, cutting him off before he could finish. “Folks keep to themselves, and hardly anyone passes through.” You could sense his unease, like a ripple beneath the surface, something unspoken lingering in the air between you.

He nodded, but his gaze remained locked on yours, intense and searching. You raised an eyebrow and gestured to the menu in front of him. “You gonna order, or do I have to kick you out?”

A slight chuckle escaped him. “I’ll have a coffee.”

“A man your size needs more than just coffee,” you teased, trying to lift the mood, though the tension still hung in the air. “I reckon you could use some breakfast.”

He shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Sure, whatever you think.”

You grabbed the menu from the table and made your way back to the counter, tossing it into the bin with the others. Though you felt more at ease, you couldn’t help but keep an eye on the mystery man. It wasn’t because you thought he was dangerous—there was just something about him, something different.

After placing his food and coffee down, you watched as he stared at it, lost in thought.

“Something wrong? You don’t like eggs?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head slowly. “No, I mean... I like them.”

You chuckled, leaning in a bit closer. “Not a man of many words, are you?”

“Guess not.”

You hesitated for a moment, then sat across from him. “I can tell you’re running from something,” you said, your voice soft but probing. “I know the feeling. I ran, too, and this place has been my solace ever since.”

You weren’t sure why you were sharing this with him. Maybe you sensed a kindred spirit. Maybe it was simple curiosity. Or maybe, after all this time, you just needed someone to talk to. It felt strange, but also comforting, to finally meet someone new in this small, quiet town.

“I’m not running,” he finally said, picking up the fork and taking a deliberate bite of his eggs.

You sighed, leaning back slightly. “Everyone runs from something. It’s human nature. We run from our problems, our worries... maybe even from someone.”

He looked up, his brows furrowed. “Look, you seem nice, but I’m not here to chat.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, stepping back as you stood up, the brief connection slipping away as quickly as it had formed. “I’ll be over there if you need anything.” You gestured toward the counter before hurrying away.

Why had you done that? You’d let your guard down to some stranger.

Shaking off the thought, you busied yourself with work, tending to the two other customers in the diner, hoping the routine would steady your nerves.

But no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. The way his eyes had darkened when you mentioned running, the tension in his voice when he’d brushed you off. There was something there, something he wasn’t saying.

You wiped down the counter, your movements automatic, while your mind spun with possibilities. Was he in trouble? Or was he just someone who preferred to keep his past buried? You had a feeling it was more than that, though. The pain you’d glimpsed in his eyes felt too raw, too recent.

The bell above the diner’s door jingled, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned just in time to see him walk out, his steps rough and hurried. A pang of concern flared inside you as you rushed to the booth.

A few crumpled bills lay on the table next to a half-eaten plate. The food was cold and untouched, save for a few bites. His coffee was still steaming in its cup.

You lingered there for a moment, staring at the scene he’d left behind, a knot tightening in your chest. Had you driven him away?

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

A few days passed, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the mystery man. You hadn’t seen him around town since that morning, leading you to assume he’d left for good. Yet, despite yourself, something inside you longed to see him again.

You sighed, burying your face in your hands. The effect this man had on you was unsettling. You had never felt this way before—so drawn to someone you barely knew.

You got ready for work in a daze, your mind still tangled up in thoughts of the mystery man. His presence lingered in your mind like a half-forgotten dream, unsettling and yet impossible to shake. You barely noticed the routine of pulling on your uniform, grabbing your keys, and locking the door behind you as you headed out.

The drive into town took you down the familiar long, winding road, the early morning mist curling around the trees like ghostly fingers. Normally, you find this stretch of road calming, a moment to gather your thoughts before the day begins. But today, your mind was elsewhere—back at the diner, replaying the brief moments you’d spent with him. The intensity of his gaze, the way his voice had wavered when he spoke, the pain you’d seen lurking beneath the surface.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t see the truck in front of you until it was too late. Your car slammed into it with a sickening crunch of metal, jolting you violently against the seatbelt. The airbag deployed, the sudden impact knocking the breath out of you.

For a moment, you just sat there, dazed, your heart pounding in your chest. The smell of burnt rubber and the hiss of escaping steam filled the air. Slowly, you unbuckled your seatbelt and pushed the door open, stumbling out of the car. A few cuts and bruises marked your arms and legs, but otherwise, you were fine.

You looked up at the truck you’d rear-ended, your stomach sinking as you saw the damage. The back of the truck was dented and scraped, but what caught your attention was the man stepping out of the driver’s side.

It was him.

The mystery man turned around, and your eyes widened in shock. A large gash marred his forehead, blood trickling down the side of his face.

“Are you okay?” you blurted out, rushing over to him. Panic surged through you. “We need to get you to a hospital—”

He waved you off, his expression unreadable. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch? You’re bleeding!” you insisted, your hands shaking. 

As he turned away, something caught your eye. The gash on his forehead—impossibly—was healing itself. You watched, stunned, as the torn skin slowly knit back together, the blood drying and vanishing as if it had never been there.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you watched the wound disappear completely, leaving behind nothing but smooth, unblemished skin. 

“What…?” The word barely made it past your lips, disbelief washing over you like a cold wave.

He glanced back at you, catching the shock in your eyes. “I told you, I’m fine,” he said, his voice low and steady, but there was a warning in his tone now.

Your mind reeled, trying to make sense of what you’d just seen. Was it a trick of the light? Or were your eyes playing some cruel joke on you? Yet the evidence was right there in front of you—there was no denying what you had witnessed.

“You’re one of them,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “A mutant?”

He didn’t respond immediately. His intense brown eyes met yours, filled with a mix of resignation and something deeper, something you couldn’t quite place. “You need to forget what you just saw,” he said softly, his tone heavy with an unspoken warning that made your stomach twist.

“I can’t just forget—” you started, but your words died in your throat as he turned back toward you, his eyes still intense and dark.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, a weary look settling over his face. “I’m just trying to start over, bub. I don’t need folks knowing I’m a mutant.”

You stood there, your heart pounding, trying to process everything. The man in front of you—this mysterious, gruff stranger—wasn’t just anyone. He was a mutant, someone with abilities far beyond the ordinary. Someone like… you.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Is that why you asked about living here?”

He held your gaze for a long moment as if trying to decide whether to trust you with the truth. Finally, he sighed, the weight of his past heavy in his eyes. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I need a place like this… where people don’t ask too many questions. Where they just leave you alone.”

You nodded, understanding all too well the need to escape, to find a place where the past couldn’t reach you. “I get it,” you said, surprised by the steadiness in your voice.

He scoffed, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What’s a pretty woman like you gotta run from?”

You hesitated, feeling an unexpected pull toward this man—this stranger who somehow felt more familiar than he should. “Stuff,” you said softly, almost confessing everything but you held back. “Doesn’t really matter. I left it behind when I came here.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if trying to see past the words, to the truth beneath them. The bitter smile faded, replaced by something more sincere, almost understanding. “We all got our demons, I guess,” he said quietly. “Places like this are good for that—keeping them buried.”

You nodded, the words striking a chord deep within you. For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the quiet morning air thick with unspoken understanding. You felt an odd sense of comfort in his presence like you weren’t as alone as you’d always believed.

“Maybe,” you ventured, breaking the silence, “we don’t have to keep them buried forever. Maybe we just need… time.”

He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and something softer, something that hinted at the man behind the guarded exterior. “Time, huh? I’ve got plenty of that. Trust me, it doesn’t change a damn thing.”

The weight of his words hit you—the exhaustion, the loneliness. It mirrored your own, a reflection of the life you’d been leading since you came to this town, hiding in plain sight. You sighed, turning to your car and rubbing your forehead. It was totaled, no doubt.

“Well, I guess I’m screwed,” you muttered, kicking the tire in frustration.

“It was my fault. I stopped because I thought I saw a squirrel in the road,” he said, stepping closer. “I can give you a lift. Where were you headed?”

You laughed, not because it was funny, but because you could see he was lying. It all felt like a stroke of bad luck. The kind that left you wondering if the universe was laughing at your expense. In the chaos, you’d completely forgotten about work—and the fact that you were now late.

“I’m supposed to be at the diner,” you replied, almost absentmindedly, as the reality of the situation began to sink in. Then you looked up at him, shaking your head. “Sorry, but there’s no way I’m getting a lift from you. You’re a stranger. I don’t even know your name.”

He nodded, his eyes softening. “Logan.”

“Logan,” you repeated, the name lingering on your tongue as if trying to find a place in your thoughts, but instead of offering your own, you simply let his name hang in the air between you.

The practical side of you quickly took over. You glanced back at your totaled car, feeling a surge of frustration and helplessness. There was no way you were getting to work on time now, and the idea of walking into town was equally unappealing.

Logan seemed to sense your hesitation. “Look,” he said, his voice softer, almost gentle. “I get it. You don’t know me, and you’ve got every reason to be cautious. But I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to help.”

You studied his face, searching for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was a tired sincerity in his eyes. There was a part of you that still wanted to push him away, to keep the walls up. But another part of you—a part that had been growing quieter and more lonely since you’d arrived in this town—wanted to take the risk, to trust him, if only for a moment.

“Alright,” you said, your voice firm but still holding a trace of uncertainty. “Just to the diner.” 

Logan nodded, seeming to understand your need for boundaries. “Fair enough,” he replied. “I’ll take you to the diner. We can figure out what to do with your car after that.”

With a reluctant sigh, you agreed, walking around to the passenger side of his truck. The door creaked as you opened it, and you hesitated for just a second before climbing in. The seat was worn and the cab smelled faintly of oil and something earthy, like damp leaves. It was clear this truck had seen a lot of miles, just like its owner.

Logan slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the rumble of the truck vibrating through the seat. For a few moments, the two of you rode in silence, the winding road passing by outside the window.

As you got closer to town, the reality of the situation began to settle in. You were sitting in a truck with a man who, just moments ago, had been a stranger. A man who had revealed an impossible ability—a mutant, like you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, not from fear, but from the sudden understanding that your life might be about to change in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

“You mentioned you were trying to start over,” you said, breaking the silence. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but why?”

Logan kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, well, you are being nosy,” he replied, though he didn’t stop there. “Just seemed like a good place to disappear.”

Disappear. The word echoed in your mind, striking a chord with your reasons for coming to this town. You, too, had been searching for a place to hide, to leave the past behind.

 As the diner came into view, you found yourself hesitant to leave the safety of the truck, of Logan’s company. There was a strange comfort in knowing you weren’t the only one with secrets, that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face them alone.

He pulled into the parking lot and put the truck in park, glancing over at you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nodded, though the uncertainty still lingered. “Yeah,” you said, more to convince yourself than him. “I’ll be fine.”

But as you reached for the door handle, something stopped you. “Logan,” you said, turning to face him. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nodded, his gaze softening again. “I owed you.” 

With that, you stepped out of the truck and into the crisp morning air, the weight of the day ahead pressing down on you. But as you walked toward the diner, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of something new—hope, maybe, or the beginning of a connection you hadn’t expected.

As Logan’s truck pulled away, you realized that, for the first time in a long while, you weren’t entirely alone.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

You weren’t sure how you’d get home, especially with your car left abandoned in the middle of the road. The thought gnawed at you throughout your shift but just a few minutes before the end of it, the door jingled, and you glanced up. Logan stepped into the diner, his presence both unexpected and strangely reassuring. 

His eyes scanned the diner, searching until they found you behind the counter, wiping down a plate. You offered a small, uncertain smile, still unsure of what to make of this man who seemed to keep reappearing in your life.

He made his way to the counter, the floorboards creaking slightly under his weight. As he approached, the diner seemed to grow quieter, the hum of conversation fading into the background.

“Guessing you still need a ride?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile peace that had settled between you.

You hesitated, glancing down at the plate in your hands, now spotless from your nervous scrubbing. The practical side of you knew you needed help getting home, but another part of you—the part that had learned to be cautious, to avoid relying on anyone—whispered warnings in the back of your mind.

Still, there was something about Logan that made you want to take the risk.

“Yeah,” you finally replied, setting the plate aside and meeting his gaze. “I guess I do.”

Logan nodded as if he’d expected your answer. “I’ll wait outside,” he said, turning to leave before you could say anything more.

You quickly finished up your tasks, your mind racing. There was something about Logan—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on—that both intrigued and unsettled you.

You clocked out, grabbed your things, and headed outside, where Logan was leaning against his truck, hands in his pockets. The early evening air was cool, the sky tinged with the pinks and purples of a setting sun.

“Ready?” he asked as you approached, his tone casual, but his eyes still held that same unreadable depth.

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

You climbed into the truck, the door creaking in protest. Logan started the engine, and the familiar rumble filled the cab. For a few moments, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the sound of tires on asphalt as he pulled out of the diner’s parking lot.

As he drove down the winding road toward your place, you stole glances at him, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Logan. There was so much you didn’t know about him, and yet, there was a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Thanks for this. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get home.”

“Least I could do,” he replied, eyes fixed on the road. 

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it. “Why’d you come back?” 

Logan glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the road. “Figured you’d need help getting home.”

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence before your place came into view. You directed him to pull into the driveway, the truck coming to a stop with a low rumble. Neither of you made a move to get out right away.

“Thanks again, Logan,” you said, your voice softer now, almost reluctant to let go of this strange, unexpected connection.

He nodded, finally turning to meet your gaze. “It was no trouble,” he said, his tone light, though there was a flicker of something more in his eyes. You hesitated, your hand resting on the door handle, sensing he had something else to say. His lips parted slightly as if weighing the words.

“I got a job,” he said, almost as if testing how it would sound out loud.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “That’s great! I guess I’ll be seeing you in more plaid then.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “How did you know?”

You returned the smile. “Most men around here are lumberjacks. It’s the best work.”

Logan’s smile lingered for a moment before he turned his gaze back to the windshield. “Yeah, lumberjacking,” he said as if trying on the word for size. “It’s honest work. Keeps you busy.”

“Hard work, too,” you added, leaning back in your seat, feeling a mix of relief and something you couldn’t quite name. “But I guess that’s what you’re looking for.”

He nodded, the lightness in his voice giving way to something more serious. “Keeps me out of trouble,” he said, though there was an edge to his tone, a hint of the trouble he was alluding to.

We both fell silent again, the air thick with unspoken words. There was so much you wanted to ask him, to understand about this man who had somehow become a part of your life in a single day. But you held back, knowing that pushing too hard could drive him away.

Instead, you settled for something simpler. “Well, if you ever need a good meal after a long day, you know where to find me.”

He looked over at you, his expression softening. “I might just take you up on that,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth that surprised you.

You smiled, feeling a strange comfort in the idea of seeing him again. “I’ll hold you to it.”

With that, the moment passed, and you both knew it was time to part ways. You reached for the door handle again, this time more decisively. “Good luck with the job, Logan,” you said as you stepped out of the truck, the cool evening air brushing against your skin.

“Thanks,” he replied, watching you for a moment longer before turning his gaze back to the windshield. “Be more careful.”

You nodded, closing the door behind you, and watched as he pulled out of your driveway, the truck’s taillights glowing faintly in the gathering dusk. You stood there for a moment, your hands in your pockets, feeling the quiet of the evening settle around you.

As the sound of his truck faded into the distance, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. There was a sense of change in the air, a feeling that your life was shifting in ways you hadn’t anticipated. But for once, it didn’t scare you. Instead, it filled you with cautious hope, the kind that made you think maybe, just maybe, you were done running.

You turned and headed toward your front door, a small smile playing on your lips. Whatever was coming, you felt ready to face it—one day at a time.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

Sunlight peeked through your curtains as you sat up in bed, stifling a yawn. The quiet of living surrounded by nothing but forest filled your ears—an almost tangible silence—until it was broken by a sudden knock at the door.

You groaned, reluctantly crawling out of bed to throw on an oversized shirt before heading to the front door. Cautiously, you peered through the peephole and saw Logan standing there, fidgeting slightly. He wore a dark blue plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest.

Your brows knitted together in confusion as you wondered what he was doing here, especially this early. Slowly, you unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Hey,” you greeted him, crossing your arms, both curious and guarded.

His eyes wandered over you, his brow lifting in question. “You’re not ready?”

“Why would I be?” you replied, confusion clouding your features as you looked up at him.

“I thought you might need a ride to work again,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes searching yours for a reaction.

“Oh, I should’ve told you yesterday—I’m off today. Sorry about that,” you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. 

He nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “No worries. I was just passing by.”

“Shouldn’t you be chopping down trees?” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Logan chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “You caught me. I’m on my way now. Just thought I’d see if you needed a ride.” 

The gesture took you by surprise. It was small, but it hinted at a concern that you weren’t used to, especially from someone you’d only just met. “That’s... really nice of you,” you said, dropping your arms to your sides, your guard softening a bit more.

He shrugged, though the smile lingered. “Figure it’s the least I can do after yesterday.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness more than you expected. “Well, I appreciate it.”

There was a brief, comfortable silence between you, the kind that felt less like an ending and more like a pause—like there was more to say, but neither of you was quite ready to say it.

“So, you gonna be okay without a car?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

You glanced back toward the driveway, where your car sat after being towed home, still banged up from the other day. “I’ll have to get it towed into town,” you said, a hint of frustration in your voice. “But I’ll manage.”

Logan nodded. “If you need help with that, just let me know. I’ve got some tools, could take a look or maybe once I make some money I could help you buy a new one.”

“Thanks,” you replied, touched by his offer. “You’ve done a lot already.”

“Alright, I’ll let you get back to your day. Don’t wanna keep you.”

You gave him a small smile, feeling an unexpected reluctance to see him go. “Good luck with the trees.”

He chuckled, the sound easing the lingering tension. “Yeah, thanks. Take care, okay?”

“You too, Logan,” you said, watching as he turned and walked back to his truck.

As he drove away, you stood there for a moment, feeling the warmth of the morning sun on your face. The encounter had left you with a strange mixture of emotions—gratitude, curiosity, and a faint sense of anticipation. Logan was becoming more than just the stranger who had helped you out. He was someone you were beginning to feel connected to, in a way that both excited and unnerved you.

With a deep breath, you turned back inside, closing the door behind you. 

You hadn’t expected to see Logan again so soon. Your day had been busy—cleaning the house, flipping through the phonebook, and using the landline to call local mechanics. The morning slipped into the evening quickly, the hours blurring together in a steady rhythm of tasks.

You had just finished making dinner, the scent of food filling the kitchen, a beer in hand, when a familiar knock echoed through the quiet, catching you off guard. Quickly, you made your way to the door, a sense of recognition washing over you—Logan. You could tell it was him even before you opened it, just from the energy he brought with him. 

“Hello again,” you greeted him with a grin, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I guess you just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

Logan chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smile. “Maybe,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes still holding that intensity you were starting to get used to. “Or maybe I just figured I’d check in. See how you’re doing.”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider his words. “So, you’re playing the concerned neighbor now?” you teased, though you couldn’t deny the warmth his gesture stirred within you.

“Something like that,” he said, leaning slightly against the doorframe opposite you. “Plus, I figured you might need some help with your car.”

“I wasn’t expecting a mechanic at my door, but I’m not complaining,” you said, your grin widening. “Dinner’s just about ready. If you don’t mind a little company while you wait, you’re welcome to stay.”

Logan hesitated for a moment as if weighing his options. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” he finally said, though his eyes betrayed a hint of interest.

“It’s no imposition,” you assured him. “Consider it my way of saying thanks for the ride yesterday—and for coming back today.”

He nodded, accepting your invitation with a small, grateful smile. “Alright then,” he said. “I could use a good meal.”

You stepped aside, letting him in. As he walked past you into the warm, cozy kitchen, you noticed the subtle tension in his posture ease slightly, as if the atmosphere of your home provided a welcome change from whatever he was used to.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, gesturing toward the small dining table. “I’ll grab you a plate.”

Logan took a seat, glancing around the kitchen as if taking in the details. “Smells good,” he remarked, his voice softer now, less guarded.

“Thanks,” you replied, setting a plate in front of him before sitting down across from him. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll fill you up.”

He nodded, picking up his fork and taking a bite. For a few moments, the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the quiet punctuated only by the clinking of silverware. There was something oddly intimate about the moment—sharing a meal, the easy quiet between you. It felt natural like this wasn’t the first time you’d sat across from each other at the table.

After a while, Logan looked up, his eyes meeting yours. “You didn’t have to invite me in, you know.”

You shrugged, offering a warm smile. “I know, but I wanted to.” You paused, setting your fork down. “Besides, you’re not as scary as you try to be.”

“Guess you’ve got me all figured out,” Logan replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

You watched him for a moment, the smile tugging at your lips growing a little wider. “Maybe,” you said with a teasing lilt. “Anyway, how was your first day? Chopping trees and all?”

Logan leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he considered your question. “It was… different,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s honest work. That counts for something, I suppose—more than what I used to do.”

There it was—a crack in his carefully constructed walls. A small, revealing glimpse into Logan’s past. But was it an invitation to know more or just a slip-up?

“I don’t know why I said that,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly as if trying to make sense of it himself. “Something about you… makes me want to spill my guts.”

You chuckled nervously, your lips pursed as you tried to process his unexpected admission. Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, picking up on the shift in your demeanor as your gaze flickered away from his. “I have a way of soothing people—calming them down,” you offered, trying to deflect the tension.

His eyes studied you intently, a new spark of interest igniting. “You’re like me, aren’t you?” he asked quietly. “A mutant?”

You nodded, a wave of guilt washing over you. It felt like you’d been hiding something from Logan, even though he hadn’t asked directly. “Figures. I moved here to get away from being called a mutant, only to have one find me,” you said, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

“I ran because I didn’t fit in,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “My parents… they didn’t understand. They wanted to fix me, cure this disease as they called it. So, I turned to people I thought did understand—other mutants. Except they didn’t just want to live in peace. They wanted to rebel. If humans didn’t understand us, then we’d make them.”

Logan’s expression hardened as you continued your story. “I thought I was making a positive change in the world. Who cared if people got hurt in the process, as long as we got what we wanted… power but I realized too late that wasn’t what I wanted to fight for. By then, I’d already created enemies, and killed innocent people—”

You trailed off, feeling your emotions spiral out of control, the weight of your past pressing down on you. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady yourself, pushing the memories back down. “Anyway,” you continued, “I ran. I ran for a long time until I found this place and decided to call it home.”

Logan shifted slightly in his chair, his hand instinctively reaching across the table, but you shook your head, stopping him. “I make you feel calm because that’s my gift,” you explained, your voice steady but laced with caution. “I do it without even realizing it. I can intensify any emotion, and if I were to touch you… I’d feel your strongest emotion and amplify it. The same goes for memories. I can change the emotions you felt, manipulate them.”

Logan’s hand froze mid-reach, his expression hardening as he processed what you’d just said. His eyes, which had been soft with concern moments ago, now held a flicker of something else—wary curiosity, maybe even fear.

“You can change memories?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he was testing the words on his tongue.

You nodded slowly, your heart heavy with the truth you’d just revealed. “It’s not something I do lightly,” you said, trying to ease the tension you felt building between you. “I’ve learned to control it, to keep my distance when I need to but the ability is always there, under the surface.”

Logan’s gaze bore into you, searching for something—reassurance, perhaps, or maybe the boundaries of your power. “So, if you wanted to… you could make me feel something that never happened?”

“Or change how you feel about something that did,” you admitted, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable that made him. “But I wouldn’t. Not without reason. It’s not who I want to be.”

He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, a long silence stretching between you. It was the kind of silence that felt like a crossroads—where trust could either be built or shattered.

Finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “That’s a lot of power to carry around,” he said, his tone softer now, less guarded.

“It is,” you agreed, relief washing over you as you saw the tension in him ease. “It’s why I’ve been so careful. Why I ran. I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

Logan nodded, his gaze softening again as he looked at you, understanding beginning to replace the earlier wariness. “It sounds like you’ve been carrying this burden for a long time.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “Too long.”

There was another pause, this one less tense, more contemplative. Logan seemed to be weighing something in his mind, his eyes studying you with a depth that made your heart race.

“I guess we’ve both got our share of secrets,” he finally said, his tone almost resigned, as if accepting the complexity of what lay between you.

You offered him a small, tentative smile. “It’s not easy to trust, but I can sense you understand better than anyone.”

He nodded a flicker of hesitation in his gaze. “Yeah. I guess this is the part where I tell you why I’m here?”

“Only if you want to,” you replied, giving him a small shrug. “We don’t have to swap war stories just because I told you mine.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table as if he were searching for the right words. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the internal struggle of whether to share what he’d kept hidden for so long. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he began to speak, his voice low and gravelly.

“My brother and I… we’ve been fighting our whole lives,” he started, his tone resigned but tinged with a weariness that spoke of years of battles, both literal and figurative. “We’ve fought in every major war you’ve heard of, and plenty you haven’t. We’re old—older than you’d believe. Back then, it felt like fighting was all we knew, all we were good at.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. You didn’t press him, sensing that this was as difficult for him as your story had been for you.

“After the Vietnam War ended, things changed,” he continued, his voice taking on a darker edge. “We were approached by a group—a mutant group called Team X. They promised us purpose, a place where we could belong. We were soldiers, after all, and that’s what we did best. My brother, Victor, was all in from the start. He always had a taste for violence, even when it wasn’t necessary. He thrived in that environment.”

Logan’s expression tightened, a flicker of pain crossing his features as he spoke about his brother. “But me… I started to see things differently. Team X wasn’t just about fighting battles—they were about control, about power at any cost. And Victor… he embraced that. Started killing people just because he could, because it made him feel strong. Innocent people. I couldn’t be a part of that.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and resolve. “So I walked away. Left the team, and left my brother. Tried to find some kind of peace, if that’s even possible for someone like me. But Victor… he didn’t stop. He kept going, kept killing, and I’ve been running from it ever since.”

You watched him in silence, the weight of his confession heavy between you. It was clear that Logan carried the scars of his past deeply, that his brother’s betrayal had cut him in ways that were hard to put into words.

“I guess that’s why I’m here,” he said, his voice softening. “Looking for a place to hide, to forget. But it’s not so easy, is it? No matter how far you run, the past has a way of catching up.”

You nodded, understanding all too well the truth in his words. “No, it’s not easy,” you agreed quietly. “But it sounds like you made the right choice. Walking away, even when it cost you everything.”

Logan looked at you, the corners of his mouth twitching into something that might have been a smile, though it was more sadness than anything else. “Maybe…but it doesn’t change what happened. Doesn’t change who I am.”

“I guess that makes two of us,” you replied, your voice soft but steady.

There was a long pause as the two of you sat there, letting the weight of what had been shared settle between you. It was a strange feeling, this mutual vulnerability. You had each opened up parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden, and in doing so, had created a bond—fragile, but undeniably real.

The two of you sat there for a moment longer, letting the words linger in the air, before Logan finally stood up, pushing his chair back with a gentle scrape. “I should probably get going,” he said, though his voice was reluctant.

You nodded, standing up as well. “Yeah, big day tomorrow,” you said, offering him a genuine smile. “And thanks for stopping by. Don’t worry about fixing my car—I know you were lying about stopping to save the squirrel.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, you caught me,” he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. “I figured the squirrel excuse was better than admitting you were the one who rear-ended me.” 

You shook your head, amused by his honesty. You felt a warmth spread through you as he headed for the door but before he opened it, he paused, glancing back at you. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, your tone light but sincere.

Logan nodded, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer as if he was weighing whether or not to say something else. But instead, he simply gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Alright then. I’ll see you in the morning unless your car magically fixes itself.”

“Okay.” you smiled, watching as he finally turned the knob and stepped out into the cool night air.

You stood by the door for a moment after he left, listening to the fading sound of his truck as it rumbled down the driveway and disappeared into the distance. The house felt quiet and still, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that made you uneasy. Instead, it felt like the calm after a storm—a moment of peace after the intensity of what had been shared.

As you turned away from the door and began to tidy up the kitchen, you couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed in such a short amount of time. Logan’s unexpected presence in your life had stirred up feelings and memories you’d long tried to bury, but it had also given you something else—hope. Hope that you weren’t as alone as you’d always believed and that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to find peace with your past.

You sighed, leaning against the counter as you thought back to the conversation you’d had. The way Logan had opened up to you about his brother, about the wars and the pain he carried—it resonated with you in a way that few things ever had. There was a part of you that wanted to help him carry that burden, to share in the weight of it, just as he’d seemed willing to do with yours.

But you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Trust was a fragile thing, easily broken and difficult to rebuild. Yet, as you stood there in the quiet of your kitchen, you found yourself more willing to take that risk than you’d ever been before.

With a final glance at the door, you turned off the lights and headed to bed, feeling a strange mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. Tomorrow was a new day, and while you didn’t know exactly what it would bring, you felt more prepared to face it.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

A month had passed, and your whole life had changed. Logan showed up every morning to pick you up and drop you off at work. With him around, fixing your car seemed unnecessary. On your days off, he’d come over after his work, and the two of you would share dinner.

You began to forget what life was like before he showed up. The days without him seemed distant, almost unreal as if they belonged to someone else’s story. Logan had become woven into the fabric of your everyday life, making the idea of going back to how things were feel impossible.

It wasn’t just the routines that had changed—it was everything. The quiet of your home no longer felt lonely, the days were filled with a sense of purpose, and the nights were shared with someone who understood the weight of your past. Logan wasn’t just a part of your life now; he was the anchor that kept you grounded.

The walls you’d once kept around your heart were slowly crumbling, and with each day that passed, you found yourself opening up to Logan more and more. He, in turn, shared pieces of his life with you—stories about his past, his experiences, and even his fears. The trust between you grew, a steady bond that neither of you took for granted.

One evening, after another quiet dinner, the two of you found yourselves lingering at the table, the conversation winding down but neither of you wanted to move. The night outside was still, the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Logan broke the silence first. “You know,” he began, his voice soft, almost contemplative, “I never thought I’d find something like this.”

“Like what?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

He looked at you, his expression serious yet warm. “This… peace. After everything I’ve been through, I didn’t think it was possible but you… you make it feel real like I can have a life without being a monster.”

“Logan. You aren’t a monster.” You said reaching across the table to gently take his hand. “We did what we thought was best and sometimes our best is all we can do.” 

Logan nodded, softly rubbing his thumb against your skin in a comforting manner. You sighed, leaning closer to him wishing moments like this never had to end. “You know, I didn’t think it was possible either,” you admitted, your voice just as soft. “ To have a life without chaos but somehow, here we are.”

He smiled a genuine, heartfelt expression that made your chest tighten in the best possible way. “Yeah,” he said, his tone almost reverent. “Here we are.”

The moment hung between you, charged with an unspoken energy. Your gaze drifted to Logan’s lips, slightly parted, as his eyes darkened. “We shouldn’t,” you murmured, though your voice wavered. Despite your words, you found yourself leaning closer, your arm brushing against his.

Every instinct screamed at you to leap out of your chair, to break the tension by jumping into his lap in a sudden burst of energy, but you stayed planted, caught between desire and restraint. 

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, his eyes still locked on yours. The air between you seemed to thrum with the tension of what wasn’t being said, the words tangled up with everything you both wanted but were too afraid to reach for. His arm brushed against yours again, the contact sending a jolt of warmth through you, grounding you in the moment.

“I know we shouldn’t,” Logan finally whispered, his voice rough and low, as if he were struggling with the same emotions that were swirling inside you. “But it’s hard… being this close and pretending there’s nothing there.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, but your pulse was racing, and it was getting harder to remember why you had even said those words in the first place. “Logan…”

He shifted closer, the movement slow, deliberate. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely sure he could. “Tell me, and I will.”

But you didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Instead, you found yourself leaning in, the pull between you undeniable, your lips almost brushing his. 

And then, before either of you could change your mind, the distance disappeared.

His lips met yours with a quiet intensity that made your heart skip a beat. The world around you seemed to blur, narrowing down to the sensation of his mouth on yours, the warmth of his touch as his hand found its way to the small of your back, drawing you closer.

For a moment, everything else fell away—the doubts, the fears, the reasons you’d given yourself to keep your distance. All that mattered was this, the connection you’d been dancing around for weeks now, finally igniting.

You felt yourself relax into the kiss, your hand moving up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was real, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe this was okay—that maybe, in Logan’s arms, you could find something good, something that wouldn’t be taken away by the past.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you found Logan’s gaze on you, his eyes still dark but now filled with something softer—something that spoke of promises and a future that, for the first time, didn’t feel quite so uncertain.

“We should take this slow,” you managed to say, your voice a whisper, still trying to catch your breath.

Logan nodded, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he agreed, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “Slow is good. We’ve got time.”

You nodded too, feeling a sense of relief mixed with excitement. “Time,” you echoed, letting the word settle between you, a reminder that there was no need to rush—no need to force what was already building naturally between you.

Logan held his forehead against yours, his breath warm and steady, mingling with your own. For a long moment, neither of you moved, content to stay in that stillness, where words weren’t needed. It felt like the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you and the quiet connection you shared.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be fully present in the moment. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, and the calm that settled over you as you breathed in his scent—earthy, familiar, grounding.

“I’ve been alone for so long,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that you felt more than heard. “I never thought… I never thought I’d find something like this. Like you.”

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, a sensation that you weren’t entirely used to but were starting to crave. You opened your eyes, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. The vulnerability you saw there mirrored your own, and it made you want to hold on to him even tighter.

“You’re not alone anymore,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.

Logan’s eyes softened, and he nodded slightly as if acknowledging a truth that had taken him a long time to accept. “I know,” he said quietly, his hand moving up to gently cup the side of your face.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against your cheek, the comfort of his presence. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of everything you both had been through—your pasts, your fears, your hopes for what might come next.

Eventually, Logan pulled back slightly, his hand still lingering on your cheek. “I should probably go,” he said, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice.

You sighed, a wave of sadness washing over you. “Why don’t you stay? Please stay.”

He chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow. “What happened to taking it slow?”

“I’m not asking you to move in,” you replied with a small smile. “I bet you would get a better night's sleep here than at your place.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. “I can’t. If I stay… I don’t think I can control myself.”

You held his gaze, your heart fluttering at the intensity in his eyes. “I trust you, Logan,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “But I understand.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options. The air between you felt thick with unspoken words, with the tension of wanting something you both knew you needed to be careful with.

Finally, he sighed, a mix of frustration and restraint in his breath. “It’s not about trust,” he murmured, his voice rough. “It’s about wanting you too much, too soon.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment but also a sense of respect for his honesty. “Oh,” you whispered, not pushing any further. “Goodnight, Logan.”

His gaze softened further, and with a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning in. His lips pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, a silent promise of patience and understanding.

“Goodnight,” he whispered back, his voice barely above a breath, before he finally stepped back, his hand trailing down your arm as he moved toward the door.

As he opened it, the cool night air rushed in stark contrast to the warmth that had filled the room moments before. You watched as he paused in the doorway, glancing back at you one last time, a small, almost reluctant smile on his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, a promise in his tone.

“I’ll be here,” you replied, your voice steady, though your heart ached just a little as you watched him leave.

When the door closed behind him, the room felt emptier, the silence heavier. However, as you climbed into bed, pulling the covers up around you, you let yourself drift off to sleep with a smile on your face, the memory of Logan’s touch lingering on your skin like a promise.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Logan’s truck pulling into the driveway. A familiar warmth spread through you at the thought of seeing him again. You dressed quickly, eager to be near him.

When you opened the door, Logan was already standing there, leaning against the side of his truck with his hands in his pockets. As you approached, he looked up, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Morning,” he greeted you, his voice warm but carrying a hint of something more—something that lingered from the night before.

“Morning,” you replied, matching his smile. Without hesitation, he pushed himself off the truck and pulled you into an embrace, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

“Why don’t you drive me to work and then use my truck to do whatever you want,” Logan suggested, his eyes meeting yours as you looked up at him.

You chuckled, the idea warming you. “Not much to do around here, but I’ll take you up on that offer.”

The drive was longer than you expected, but it gave you time to talk. Logan kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting comfortably on your thigh, his focus mostly on the road ahead. Now and then, he’d glance over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips, as if he couldn’t help but be reassured by your presence.

When you arrived at the lumberyard, Logan parked the truck and turned to face you. “I left some money in the glovebox for you.”

“Gee, maybe I can find something nice to buy,” you teased, leaning toward him with a playful grin.

Logan smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned in closer, closing the small distance between you. “Just don’t spend it all in one place,” he quipped, his voice low and teasing.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave away your amusement. “I’ll try to restrain myself,” you replied, the playful banter making the moment feel light and easy.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the proximity sparking a quiet tension between you. His gaze flickered down to your lips, and you could feel your heart start to race.

Logan hesitated, then pulled back slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I should get going,” he said, his voice still warm but now edged with the responsibility of the day ahead. “Don’t want to be late.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from asking him to stay. Logan reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your cheek, a tender touch that sent a shiver down your spine before he pulled away entirely. With one last lingering look, he opened the door and stepped out of the truck.

You cursed under your breath, sliding over to the driver's side and jumping out. “Logan,” you called, your voice urgent. He stopped in his tracks, turning around just as you reached him. Before he could say a word, you grabbed him by the neck, pulling him toward you, your lips crashing against his.

Logan stiffened for a brief moment, caught off guard by the suddenness of your kiss, but then he melted into it, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you standing there in the cool morning air, locked in a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken emotions that had been simmering between you.

His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that contrasted with the urgency of the moment as if he was trying to savor every second. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the steady beat of his heart as it pressed against your chest, and the way his hands tightened slightly on your waist, grounding you in the reality of what was happening.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Logan’s eyes searched yours, a mix of surprise, desire, and something deeper that neither of you had put into words yet. His forehead rested against yours as both of you tried to catch your breath.

“What was that for?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, though the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

You smiled, your breath coming in soft gasps. “Just… couldn’t let you walk away without doing that.”

His smile widened, and he leaned in, pressing another brief, tender kiss to your lips, this one softer, less urgent but no less meaningful. “I’m not complaining,” he murmured, his voice warm with affection.

“Have a good day,” you replied, your voice steady.

Logan nodded, his hand coming up to gently cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I will thanks to you.” 

Logan glanced at the lumberyard behind him, a reminder of the day ahead. “I do have to go,” he said, regret lacing his words.

You nodded, stepping back to give him space. “I know. I’ll see you later.”

He hesitated for a second, then gave you a final, lingering look before turning and walking away, his strides confident but with an underlying reluctance, as if leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do.

As you climbed back into the truck, the taste of his lips still lingering on yours, a smile tugged at your lips. You turned your attention to the glovebox, opening it to find a small stack of bills. He didn’t have to leave you money, but it was a thoughtful gesture—one that showed just how much he cared.

Starting the truck, you pulled out of the parking lot, feeling a sense of peace as the early morning light cast a warm glow over the landscape. There wasn’t much to do in town, but the idea of having a little time to yourself—and the freedom of Logan’s truck at your disposal—felt like a small adventure in itself.

As you drove, your thoughts drifted to how much had changed in such a short time. Logan had become an integral part of your life, his presence comforting and constant. The days of feeling isolated and alone were fading into the background, replaced by the warmth of connection and the promise of something more.

By the time you reached the small town center, you had a few ideas on how to spend your morning. You parked the truck and stepped out, breathing in the crisp air as you glanced around. The shops were just beginning to open, and you decided to take a stroll down the main street.

You wandered past the general store, the hardware shop, and the small café that was starting to fill with its usual morning crowd. Something was charming about the simplicity of it all, something that put you at ease.

The day passed quickly, the hours slipping by as you wandered through the town, enjoying the simple pleasure of a day to yourself. As the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, you found yourself thinking about Logan and the quiet, comforting moments you’d shared that morning. A thought crossed your mind, and a small smile spread across your face.

With the money Logan had left in the glovebox, you decided to treat him to something special—a nice dinner for the two of you. It wasn’t much, but it was a way to show your appreciation for everything he’d done, for the way he’d been there for you, even in such a short time.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

After getting back home, you started on dinner while Logan went to take a shower. You thought you had more time, but soon enough, Logan stepped into the kitchen, looking pleasantly surprised to find you bustling around. “What’s all this?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity and warmth.

You turned to face him, noticing his hair still slightly damp. “I decided to use the money you left me to treat us to a nice dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”

A grin spread across Logan’s face as he walked over to you, his eyes filled with appreciation. “This smells amazing,” he said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you at his touch. “It’s my way of saying thank you—for everything.”

Logan’s gaze softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he said quietly. “But let’s call it even.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the clinking of dishes as you finished setting the table. “Deal. Now, sit down.” You teased, gesturing toward the chair. 

As the two of you sat down to dinner, the evening unfolded in a series of easy, comfortable moments—laughter, conversation, and the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with someone you cared about. The connection between you felt even stronger, the bond deepening with each shared word, and each exchanged a glance.

By the time the meal was finished, the night felt like a warm, enveloping blanket, wrapping the two of you in its embrace. Logan reached across the table, taking your hand in his, and you could feel the strength and tenderness in his grip.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft but filled with meaning. “For this. For everything.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection as you pressed your lips gently to his hand. “I want you to stay tonight,” you whispered, the words carrying both vulnerability and hope.

Logan’s eyes softened as he gazed at you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, full of quiet sincerity.

“I want that too,” he admitted, his words heavy with the weight of the decision. “More than you know.”

Relief washed over you, mingling with the warmth that had been building between you all evening. The simple act of asking him to stay had felt monumental, and now, with his answer, it felt like something had clicked into place—something that had been hovering just out of reach, now within your grasp.

Logan stood up slowly, his hand still holding yours as he walked around the table to stand beside you. He helped you to your feet, and for a moment, you just stood there, facing each other in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. The world outside felt distant, and irrelevant, as if the only thing that mattered was the two of you, here and now.

Without another word, Logan pulled you into his arms, holding you close. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest and could sense the calm that had settled over him. You knew this was a big step for both of you, but it felt right—like it was the natural progression of everything that had been building between you.

His hand moved to cup your face, tilting it up so he could look into your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if giving you one last chance to change your mind.

You nodded, your lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sure, Logan. I want this.”

His eyes darkened slightly, with something deeper, more intense. Then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you—softly at first, then with more urgency as the reality of the moment sank in. The kiss was full of unspoken promises, trust and desire, and everything that had been simmering between you.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you didn’t need to say anything. The decision had already been made.

“I’ll clean this up later,” Logan said softly, his voice low and filled with warmth. “But right now, I just need you, sweetheart.”

He took your hand, leading you out of the kitchen and down the hallway to your bedroom. The night outside was dark, the world quiet, as the two of you stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind you.

The space felt different now—more intimate, more charged with the energy of what was about to happen. You stood together in the dim light, your hands still intertwined, and for a moment, you just looked at each other, letting the anticipation build.

Then Logan moved closer, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you against him. His touch was gentle, but there was an undercurrent of desire that made your pulse quicken. Slowly, he began to lift your shirt over your head, his movements careful and deliberate, as if savoring every moment.

“I’ll go slow unless you tell me otherwise,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You smiled against his lips as your fingers worked to remove his shirt. He slipped it over his head, then cupped your face with both hands, his touch tender yet filled with intent.

“Just touch me, Logan,” you whispered, your voice carrying a mixture of need and trust. You had wanted this moment for a while, imagining how Logan’s hands would feel on you, how he would make you feel. After that kiss earlier, you knew there was no reason to hold back. Why take things slow when everything about this felt so right?

Logan’s gaze darkened with desire at your words, and he let out a quiet breath as if releasing the last of his restraint. “You’re so beautiful,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. His hands moved over your skin with a mix of reverence and urgency, as if savoring each touch but also needing more, needing all of you.

His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explored your body, his fingers tracing the contours of your skin as though committing them to memory.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss deep and unrestrained, reflecting the intensity of everything that had been building between you. His hands roamed over you with more confidence now, as if your words had unlocked something inside him, permitting him to show you just how much he wanted you.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart?” Logan murmured, his voice thick with desire as his lips trailed hot kisses down your neck, each one igniting a deeper longing within you.

In response, you pushed him back toward the bed, a determined glint in your eyes. Logan allowed himself to be guided, his breath hitching as you climbed on top of him, your hands pressing against his chest to steady yourself.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice steady and filled with intent. “I want all of you.”

Logan’s eyes darkened with a mix of surprise and pleasure, his hands instinctively gripping your hips, pulling you closer as he settled beneath you. The roles had shifted, and you reveled in the feeling of taking control, of showing him just how much you wanted this—wanted him.

“Then take it,” Logan rasped, his voice rough with desire as he met your gaze. “I’m yours.”

His breath came in ragged gasps as your hands traveled down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his sweats. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the hardness beneath you driving your own need to a fever pitch. The anticipation sent a shiver down your spine, and you clenched around nothing, the ache for him growing more intense with every passing second.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, his eyes darkening as he watched you, his control slipping as your fingers toyed with the edge of his sweatpants.

“Don’t stop,” Logan whispered, his voice hoarse, filled with both a plea and a command. His vulnerability in that moment, paired with the raw power he exuded, only made you want him more.

With a steadying breath, you slipped your fingers beneath the waistband, slowly easing his sweats down, revealing the full extent of his arousal. Logan groaned, his head tipping back against the pillow, the sound sending a rush of heat through you.

Your hands shook slightly, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of what was happening. You’d both been building to this moment for so long and now that it was here, it felt almost surreal, too powerful.

You gently wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately, just enough to tease him. The feeling of him in your hand, hard and heavy, sent a jolt of desire straight through you, making your breath hitch.

Logan’s reaction was immediate. His hands slid up your thighs, his touch firm but reverent until they gripped your hips with a need that matched your own. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you in place as his hips bucked slightly into your hand, a low growl escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” Logan breathed out, his voice thick with pleasure and restraint. His eyes, half-lidded with desire, locked onto yours, a silent plea and command mixed. “Don’t tease me.”

But the teasing was half the fun, the control you had over him intoxicating. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I want to make you feel good.”

His grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel the tension in his body, coiled and ready to spring. But for now, you relished the control you had over him, the way you could make him unravel with just a touch.

But the need building within you was undeniable, and as much as you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted more. You wanted to feel him, to have him inside you, to bridge the gap that had been between you for far too long.

“Logan…” you murmured, your voice a mix of desire and pleading. “I need you.”

His response was immediate and primal, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he shifted beneath you, flipping you onto your back with a swiftness that took your breath away. He settled between your legs, his hands framing your face, his eyes burning with intent before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Then take me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. “All of me.”

His hands then worked to pull down your panties revealing your needy cunt and with one fluid motion, he pushed into you, filling you completely, the connection between you snapping into place as if it had been meant to be all along. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in your body alive with the intensity of it.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as you both moved together, the rhythm natural and instinctive. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the pressure building inside you with a fierce intensity, mirrored in the way Logan’s grip tightened on your hips.

“Logan,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as waves of pleasure surged through you. “Don’t stop,” you cried, your body trembling as you clenched around him, desperate for more.

Logan’s breath hitched, and you could feel him shudder above you, every muscle in his body tense as he fought to hold back. His voice was a low growl, rough with desire and restraint. “Don’t cum for me yet, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want to taste you.”

The promise in his words sent a jolt of anticipation through you, and your breath caught in your throat as you nodded, trusting him completely. Logan’s pace slowed, his movements deliberate as he pulled out of you, leaving you aching and yearning for his touch.

He kissed his way down your body, his lips trailing over your skin, each touch igniting a new wave of heat inside you. By the time he reached the apex of your thighs, you were trembling with need, your body taut with anticipation.

Logan glanced up at you, his eyes dark and hungry, as if savoring the sight of you laid out before him. He pressed a lingering kiss to your inner thigh, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire.

And then he was there, his mouth on you, his tongue tracing slow, tantalizing circles that made your whole body arch off the bed. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure so intense that you could barely think, could barely breathe. You clutched at the sheets, your moans filling the room as Logan devoured you, his touch both gentle and insistent, driving you closer to the edge with every flick of his tongue.

He was relentless, his mouth working you with a skill that left you shaking, your entire being focused on the pleasure he was giving you. The tension inside you coiled tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “I—I can’t…” Your thighs pressed against the sides of his head. He moaned into you as if he wanted to be suffocated by you. 

Logan didn’t stop. Instead, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster, his hands tightening on your hips as he held you in place. “Let go for me,” he murmured against you, his voice sending vibrations through your core. “I want to taste you.”

His words were your undoing. With a cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you in a wave that left you breathless, your body shaking uncontrollably as you found your peak. Logan didn’t let up, drawing out your orgasm until you were left gasping, your entire body trembling in the aftermath.

Only then did he pull back, kissing his way up your body until he was hovering over you again, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss that tasted of you. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve thought about this for so long.”

You smiled against his lips, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. “Me too,” you murmured, still breathless, your heart full of everything you felt for him.

Logan kissed you again, his hands roaming over your body with a renewed sense of urgency. He shifted, lifting your legs higher and positioning himself between your thighs, his cock teasing your entrance.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice a mix of longing and need, your hips instinctively arching toward him.

His eyes met yours, dark and intense, as he paused, savoring the moment. “I need to feel you cum with me inside you,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. 

Slowly, he began to press into you, the sensation making you gasp as he stretched you. Logan’s gaze never left yours as he pushed deeper, his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring you felt every moment of it.

Your breath hitched, a soft moan escaping your lips as he bottomed out inside you, the sensation overwhelming in the best possible way. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, giving you a moment to adjust, to fully take him in.

“God, you’re perfect,” Logan groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move, setting a rhythm that was both slow and powerful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The feeling of him moving within you was intoxicating, every nerve in your body lighting up with pleasure. “Your little cunt just begging for more.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, urging him on as the need inside you built to an unbearable level. Each stroke pushed you higher, the pleasure coiling tighter within you, ready to snap.

“Faster,” you whispered, your voice breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him. “Please, Logan…”

Logan’s restraint shattered at your plea, his pace quickening as he drove into you with a newfound urgency, his grip on your hips tightening. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your gasps and his low, rough moans, creating a symphony of pure, unbridled passion.

The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending you spiraling closer to your release. You could feel Logan’s control slipping, the tension in his body mirroring your own as he neared his climax.

“Come with me,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “I want to feel you cum around me.”

His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that left you trembling beneath him. You cried out his name, your body tightening around him as the waves of pleasure pulsed through you.

Logan followed you into oblivion, his release tearing through him as he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he let go. He groaned your name, his voice filled with raw emotion as he spilled into you, the intensity of it leaving him breathless.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you lost in the aftershocks of what you’d just shared. Your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you held each other close, the connection between you stronger than ever.

Finally, Logan lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that took your breath away. He brushed his thumb across your cheek, his touch gentle and reverent.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and affection.

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man above you. “I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft but heavy with the weight of everything you felt for him.

Logan’s eyes shone with emotion as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his warmth enveloping you as he held you. The rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear, steady and strong, lulled you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

As you drifted off to sleep in his embrace, you knew that this was where you were meant to be—with him, surrounded by a love that felt real.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

“Logan?” you mumbled, turning over. Your hands fumbled around the bed, searching for Logan, but all you found was the lingering warmth he had left behind.

You sat up, sleepiness still clouding your eyes as you looked around the room, the eerie silence ringing in your ears. Slowly, you got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom, the soft glow of moonlight guiding you through the darkened hallway.

You knew Logan’s nightmares were bad. In the first few nights, he stayed over, he tried to hide them, keeping quiet and distant. Eventually, the truth became impossible to ignore. He would thrash under the covers, his body tense and restless, causing you to wake up and find him drenched in a cold sweat, haunted by whatever horrors his mind had conjured.

He was stubborn, refusing your help, convinced that he deserved the painful nightmares as a way to remind himself of who he was. No matter how many times you tried to reassure him, to tell him that he didn’t have to bear the weight of his past alone, Logan was resolute. He believed the nightmares were a punishment, a way to keep himself anchored to the man he once was, no matter how much pain they caused him. He would insist that they were his burden to bear, and he wouldn’t let you share in it, no matter how much you wanted to help.

It was frustrating, seeing him like this—tortured, stubborn, and determined to carry the weight of his guilt alone. Every night, you’d lie awake, listening to his breathing grow heavier, waiting for the moment when his dreams would turn into something darker, something that would tear him from sleep and leave him gasping for air.

He tried to put on a brave face during the day, but you could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the haunted look in his eyes that never fully went away. And yet, he wouldn’t let you in. He wouldn’t let you take any of the burden from his shoulders, even though it was clear that it was tearing him apart.

It never got easier to watch, especially now as you fumbled your way through the dark, desperate to find him. Your heart pounded in your chest, thoughts swirling as you entered the living room, hoping against hope that he’d be there.

It was empty.

“Logan?” you whispered, your voice trembling in the stillness, even though you knew deep down he wasn’t there.

Slowly, your feet padded against the wood floor toward the front door, which was slightly ajar. Your heart raced as it creaked open, the moonlight peeking through and casting eerie shadows on your face. For a split second, your heart stopped as you saw a figure standing outside, silhouetted against the night, gazing up at the sky.

However, you quickly realized it was Logan. His eyes were closed, his face peaceful as the cool breeze swirled around him. He was barefoot, wearing only sweats, as the moonlight bathed him in a soft, ethereal glow.

He turned toward you, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Come here,” he said, his voice gentle, inviting.

You stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you walked toward Logan. He opened his eyes, his smile fading slightly as you approached.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly, searching his face for any sign of what might be troubling him. “Was it the nightmares again?”

Logan nodded, his expression shifting from peaceful to guarded, the familiar shadows returning to his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured, almost as if admitting it aloud made it worse. “They’re always there, waiting…”

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours, offering him the comfort of your touch. “I can help you with them,” you whispered, your voice steady but tender. “You don’t have to go through it alone.”

Logan hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground as he weighed your words. “I don’t know…” he began, his voice trailing off. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I don’t want you to see—”

You squeezed his hand, cutting him off gently. “Logan, you don’t have to protect me from this.  I’m not afraid of what you’ve been through. I just want to be there for you.” 

He looked up at you then, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mixture of vulnerability and something close to fear. “What if it’s too much?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “What if… what if it changes the way you see me?”

You stepped closer, bringing his hand up to your chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “Nothing will change the way I see you,” you said, your voice firm. “I love every part of you, Logan. Even the parts you think are too dark, too broken. Let me in. Let me help.”

“I’m not who you think I am,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The things I’ve done… I don’t deserve your love.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. “You deserve love, Logan. You deserve peace. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you think you deserve.”

Logan stared at you for a long moment, the internal battle clear in his eyes. Finally, he gave a slow, reluctant nod, though the tension in his body didn’t entirely ease. “Alright,” he whispered, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You smiled softly, lifting your hand to cup his cheek. “I love you,” you promised, your thumb brushing gently across his skin, a tender reminder of your unwavering support.

You held Logan’s gaze for a moment longer, letting the warmth of your touch seep into his skin, grounding him. Then, with a soft smile, you gently guided him back inside the house, the night air giving way to the comforting stillness of your home.

Once in the bedroom, you pulled back the covers and motioned for Logan to lie down beside you. He hesitated for a brief second, the tension still lingering in his shoulders, but then he did as you asked, trusting you with the parts of him that were still so fragile.

You lay down next to him, pressing your body close to his, reassuring him of your presence. His breathing was still uneven, the remnants of his turmoil evident in the tightness of his muscles.

Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand on his chest, over his heart, feeling the steady thrum beneath your palm. Closing your eyes, you let your power flow through you, focusing on the connection between you and Logan. It was an ability you had refined over the years, learning to use it not just to bring back memories, but to soothe and calm the storm inside people.

A soft, warm energy radiated from your hand, spreading through Logan’s body like a gentle wave. You could feel the tension beginning to ebb away, his breathing becoming more rhythmic, more at ease. As the calming energy enveloped him, you whispered reassuring words, barely audible, guiding him into a state of peace.

“Just relax. You’re safe. Just let go… I’ve got you.”

Logan’s body began to relax under your touch, the knots in his muscles slowly unraveling. His eyes fluttered closed, and you continued to channel the soothing energy, lulling him closer to sleep.

Before long, his breathing deepened, and his hand instinctively found yours, holding onto it as if it were his lifeline. He drifted off, the tension that had gripped him earlier now a distant memory. You stayed close, your power still working to shield him from the nightmares that had plagued him for so long.

But then, even in sleep, the shadows tried to creep in. Logan began to mumble, his brow furrowing as he tossed slightly, remnants of old fears threatening to pull him under. You tightened your grip on his hand and let your power surge a bit stronger, a soft, soothing balm that eased the distress in his mind.

The effect was immediate. Logan’s mumbling quieted, the lines on his forehead smoothing out as the calmness you projected enveloped him completely. For the first time in years, Logan found peace in sleep, undisturbed by the horrors of his past.

You watched him, your heart swelling with love as you stroked his hair gently, ensuring that the serenity remained. His grip on your hand relaxed, and a soft sigh escaped his lips as he settled deeper into the comfort of your presence.

As the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room, you allowed yourself to relax as well. You could feel the steady rise and fall of Logan’s chest, the peaceful rhythm of his breath, and knew that, for now, he was safe. The man who had once been tormented by nightmares was finally resting, his mind at ease, protected by the love and power you shared.

As you lay there beside him, your hand still resting over his heart, you felt a deep sense of fulfillment. This was your place—right here, beside him, offering him the solace he had so often been denied. While it had only been a few months since your lives became intertwined, Logan meant so much more to you than he could realize.

His presence in your life had become a constant, a source of strength and comfort that you had never known before. The depth of your feelings for him had grown rapidly, surprising you with their intensity. There was something about Logan—his strength, his vulnerability, the way he fought against the darkness within him—that drew you to him like nothing else ever had.

Sometimes, in quiet moments like this, you wondered what the future held. Would you continue to help him heal, to be the anchor he needed? Would the two of you find peace together, or would the shadows of his past continue to haunt him? There were so many unknowns, so many questions that lingered in the back of your mind.

But as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your hand, you knew one thing for certain: you weren’t going anywhere. Whatever the future held, you were committed to facing it with him. You had found something rare and precious in Logan, and you weren’t willing to let it slip away.

“I’ll always protect you, Logan. No matter what,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. 

He didn’t stir, but you knew, deep down, that he heard you.

For now, though, this was enough. This moment, with Logan safe and at peace beside you, was more than you could have ever hoped for and as sleep finally began to claim you, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together.

With that comforting thought, you allowed yourself to drift off, your hand still resting protectively over Logan’s heart, ready to shield him from the darkness, ready to walk beside him into whatever tomorrow might bring.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

Two years had passed since that night when Logan first told you he loved you. In that time, your lives had settled into a comfortable rhythm, one that felt as natural as breathing. Logan had moved in not long after, and together, you had built a life that was simple but filled with love and contentment.

The house had become a true home, with little touches that reflected the two of you—photos from your adventures together, Logan’s tools neatly organized in the garage, and your shared collection of books lining the shelves. The days were spent in quiet harmony, whether working side by side in the garden, cooking meals together, or simply enjoying each other’s company on lazy Sunday afternoons.

One evening, as you sat on the porch watching the sun dip below the horizon, Logan reached over and took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. The air was warm, the crickets beginning their evening chorus, and the world felt perfectly still.

“You ever think about the future?” he asked, his voice quiet but laced with curiosity.

You turned to look at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. “All the time,” you admitted. “What about you?”

Logan nodded, his gaze thoughtful as he stared out at the fading light. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “I never used to… not before you. But now… I think about it a lot.”

“What do you see when you think about it?” you asked, your heart swelling at the thought of a shared future with him.

He was silent for a moment as if carefully considering his words. “I think about us,” he began, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Maybe getting married, starting a family. A life where we can just be… happy.”

His words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and contentment. “You’d want that?” you asked, your voice soft, almost disbelieving.

Logan turned to you then, his eyes filled with a sincerity that took your breath away. “More than anything,” he said.

Your heart felt like it could burst from the love you felt for him. “I want that too,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. After a moment, you pulled back, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Though I was kind of hoping you’d ask me to marry you more romantically.”

Logan’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “I’m not a romantic guy,” he said but his voice held a laughter to it.

“Liar,” you replied, your fingers gently moving through his hair. 

Logan’s smile widened, his eyes softening as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time with a mix of relief and joy. The simple exchange solidified the bond between you, a promise of a future built on love, trust, and the deep connection you shared.

The idea of marrying Logan, of starting a family together, filled you with a warmth that radiated through your entire being. It was a future you could see so clearly—a future that felt right, that felt like the culmination of everything you had both been through to get to this point.

Over the next few weeks, the two of you talked about your future often, making plans, and dreaming about the life you would build together. The prospect of marriage and starting a family became a beacon of hope and joy, something to look forward to, something that made each day even brighter.

But then, everything changed. You always knew the past would eventually catch up with you, but little did you know that Logan’s had never truly gone away.

Logan was at work at the lumberyard, and you were home, going about your usual routine. The sun was high in the sky, and the air filled with the scent of freshly cut wood, as Logan went about his tasks. It was a day like any other—until he saw him.

William Stryker.

Logan’s blood ran cold the moment he recognized the man standing at the edge of the yard, watching him with that familiar, calculating gaze. Stryker hadn’t changed much in the years since Logan had last seen him—still exuding that air of authority, still holding that unsettling glint in his eyes.

Logan stopped what he was doing, his entire body tensing as Stryker approached, his stride confident and purposeful. “Logan,” Stryker greeted him, his tone deceptively casual. “Been a long time.”

Logan clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides. “What do you want, Stryker?” he asked, his voice low and edged with anger.

Stryker smiled a cold, calculated smile that told Logan everything he needed to know. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” he said, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “Just want to have a little chat. Thought you might be interested in rejoining Team X.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his entire being rejecting the idea before Stryker had even finished speaking. “Not a chance,” he growled. “I’m done with that life.”

Stryker tilted his head as if considering Logan’s words. “You say that now,” he said slowly, “but things change, Logan. People change. I know you’ve built a life for yourself here, but how long do you think that will last? How long before you get bored… before you start craving the action again?”

Logan’s mind flashed to you—your smile, your laugh, the way you felt in his arms. The life you were building together, the plans you’d made for the future. That was what mattered to him now. Not the past, not the violence and chaos of Team X.

“Not interested,” Logan said firmly, turning his back on Stryker and walking away.

But Stryker wasn’t done. “You think this little dream of yours is going to last?” he called after Logan, his voice cutting through the noise of the yard. “You think you can escape what you are? Who you are?”

Logan stopped in his tracks, his muscles tensing with barely restrained fury. Yet, he didn’t turn around. He wouldn’t give Stryker the satisfaction.

“I’ll be around if you change your mind,” Stryker continued, his voice now calm and almost friendly. “You know where to find me.”

Logan forced himself to keep walking, his mind reeling from the encounter. He couldn’t let Stryker get to him. He couldn’t let him ruin what he had with you.

But even as he tried to push Stryker’s words from his mind, a sliver of doubt began to creep in. Could he escape his past? Could he keep that part of himself buried, hidden away, and focus on the future he wanted with you?

He didn’t know the answer, but as he made his way back home, one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let Stryker destroy the life he had built. He wouldn’t let him take away the happiness he had found with you.

When he walked through the door that evening, you were there waiting for him, your smile bright and welcoming but as you looked into his eyes, you could see something was wrong.

“Logan?” you asked, concern lacing your voice as you reached out to touch his arm. “What happened?” 

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked over to you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he were trying to shield you from something. His heart pounded against your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched your own.

You pulled back slightly, searching his face for answers. “What is it?”

Logan sighed, his expression pained. “Stryker found me.”

The name sent a chill down your spine. You had heard of William Stryker—Logan had told you enough about him for you to know that he was a man to be feared. A man who had once held power over Logan’s life in ways you could barely comprehend.

“What does he want?” you asked, your voice barely holding steady.

“He wants me to rejoin Team X,” Logan said, the words heavy with regret and anger. “He thinks I’ll go back to that life, but I told him no but he doesn’t take no for an answer.”

A wave of fear crashed over you, chilling you to the bone. You had known that Logan’s past was dark, but the reality of it coming back, threatening the life you’d built together, was more than you could bear.

“What are we going to do?” you asked, your voice small and trembling.

Logan took a deep breath, his grip tightening around you as if he could somehow protect you from the storm that was brewing. “We’re going to keep living our lives,” he said, his voice firm despite the turmoil you could see swirling in his eyes. “I’m not letting him take this away from us. I’m not going back to that life.”

“He's not going to stop, you just said so.” you pressed, fear and uncertainty creeping into your words. “He’ll keep coming after you.” 

Logan’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, the tension in his expression giving way to something more tender. “I’ll handle it,” he promised. “I’ve fought worse battles, and I’ve come out the other side. I’m not going to let Stryker or anyone else take away what we have.”

His words were meant to reassure you, but the dread in your heart wouldn’t completely fade. You knew Logan was strong, but Stryker was a force that wouldn’t be easily deterred. Still, you nodded, wanting to believe that Logan could protect you, that he could protect the future you had planned together.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice steadying as you looked into his eyes. You wanted to say a million things, but at that moment, nothing else mattered.

Logan shook his head slightly, as if to quiet your worries, before leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered there, warm and reassuring, as if he could somehow transfer some of his strength to you. “I know,” he murmured, sensing the uneasiness that you couldn’t quite hide. “But I need you to promise me something.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding as you waited for his words.

“If things get dangerous, if Stryker makes a move—promise me you’ll get out of here. Go somewhere safe.”

The thought of leaving him, of running away while he faced whatever Stryker had planned, made your stomach turn. “Logan, I can’t just leave you—”

“Promise me,” he interrupted his voice firm but laced with desperation. “I need to know you’ll be safe. That’s the only way I can fight this without losing my mind.”

You swallowed hard, the reality of the situation sinking in. Logan was willing to do whatever it took to protect you, even if it meant facing his past head-on and as much as it pained you. You knew you had to respect his wishes.

“I promise,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “But only if you promise to come back to me.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “I promise,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “I’ll come back to you. Always.”

Deep down, a part of you couldn’t shake the fear that the life you had built was about to be torn apart.

The days that followed were tense, filled with an undercurrent of dread that neither of you could ignore. Logan continued to go to work, determined to maintain some sense of normalcy, but you could see the strain in his eyes every time he left the house.

You tried to keep busy, distracting yourself with everyday tasks, but the shadow of Stryker’s threat loomed over everything. You found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder, jumping at every unexpected noise, your heart pounding with the fear that Stryker could appear at any moment.

And then, one day, he did.

You were at home, going through the motions of your daily routine, when a knock at the door sent a chill down your spine. You froze, your heart racing as you stared at the door, knowing in your gut that this wasn’t a friendly visit.

Slowly, you approached the door, your hand trembling as you reached for the knob. You hesitated, your mind racing with thoughts of what could be waiting on the other side.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and opened the door.

There he stood—William Stryker, his cold eyes studying you with a calculated intensity that made your blood run cold. He was dressed impeccably, his posture calm and composed, but there was an underlying menace in his presence that sent every alarm in your body screaming.

“Hello,” he said, his voice smooth and unnervingly polite. “You must be Logan’s little lady.”

Your throat tightened, and you gripped the edge of the door, resisting the urge to slam it shut in his face. “What do you want?” you managed to ask, your voice steady despite the fear coursing through you.

Stryker’s smile was thin, more of a predator’s smirk than a sign of friendliness. “I’m here to talk to Logan. I believe he’s been avoiding me.”

“He’s not here,” you replied quickly, praying that Logan would stay away until Stryker was gone.

Stryker nodded as if he expected that answer. “I figured as much. He can’t avoid me forever. Sooner or later, he’ll have to face the truth.” 

“What truth?” you asked, dread settling like a heavy stone in your stomach.

“The truth that no matter how far he runs, he’ll never escape who he really is,” Stryker said, his voice dropping to a low, ominous tone. “He’s a soldier, a weapon, an animal. Deep down, he knows it.” 

You shook your head, refusing to let Stryker’s words get to you. “Logan is more than that. He’s not the person you’re trying to make him be.”

Stryker’s eyes narrowed, and momentarily, the facade of politeness slipped, revealing the cold, calculating man underneath. “We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice hard.

He turned to leave, but then hesitated, sighing as he turned back toward you. There was a faint, unsettling look in his eye, something almost resembling concern, but you knew better.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention,” Stryker paused, his tone deceptively casual. “Some of the guys on the team have… gone missing. I assume they’re dead—because of Victor. He’s big on revenge, I suppose. Anyway, do let Logan know. Victor will probably be here sooner rather than later.” 

Stryker’s words hung in the air like a dark cloud, their weight pressing down on you. You stood there, frozen, as the full meaning of his warning settled in. The mere mention of Victor’s name had always carried an edge, a hint of danger that now felt all too real.

Before you could find your voice, Stryker gave you a cold, almost dismissive nod and turned on his heel, walking away with the same calculated confidence he had arrived with. The sound of his footsteps echoed faintly in the distance, but the chill he brought into your home lingered long after he was gone.

You closed the door slowly, your hands trembling as you locked it as if that simple action could keep the world outside from crashing in. But you knew better. Stryker’s words, his warning about Victor, had already set things in motion—things that couldn’t be undone by a locked door.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the dread coiled in your stomach like a snake ready to strike. Victor was coming and if what Stryker said was true, he was out for blood.

Logan. You had to warn Logan.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

You threw the truck into the park, barely taking the time to turn off the engine before jumping out and running across the lumber yard. Panic fueled your steps as you searched desperately for Logan. He sensed you before he saw you, your scent unmistakable to him. He turned just in time to see you rushing toward him, a terrified look on your face.

“Logan,” you called, your voice trembling, barely above a whisper. “Stryker came to the house.”

Logan’s entire body went still, his breath catching in his throat. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, his tone hard as all traces of calmness vanished.

“He—” you hesitated, the weight of Stryker’s words still sinking in. “He warned me about Victor. He said some of the team members have gone missing, and he thinks Victor’s behind it. Logan, he said Victor might come here… soon.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with a mix of anger and fear. “Damn it,” he muttered, his mind racing as he processed the information. He turned to you, his expression grim, the weight of his decision clear in his eyes. “You need to leave. Now.”

Your heart dropped at Logan’s words. The thought of leaving him now, in the face of such danger, was unbearable. But the look in his eyes—so fierce and determined—told you that he wasn’t giving you a choice.

“Logan, I can’t just leave you,” you protested, your voice shaking with emotion. “Not now, not when—”

“You have to,” he cut you off, his voice firm but laced with desperation. “If Victor is coming, I can’t let you be here when he arrives. I need to know you’re safe.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as the reality of the situation sank in. “Where will I go?”

Logan’s gaze softened slightly, but the urgency remained. “There’s a motel on the edge of town, near the highway. Go there, stay out of sight. I’ll come for you when it’s safe.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of fear and helplessness. “What about you?”

Logan stepped closer, placing his hands on your shoulders, his grip firm but gentle. “I’ll handle Victor. I’ve dealt with him before. But I can’t focus on that if I’m worrying about you. Please, just go.”

You could see the fear in his eyes, the fear of losing you. It mirrored your own. But you also saw the resolve, the determination that had always been a part of him. He wasn’t just asking you to leave—he was begging you to trust him.

You swallowed hard, nodding even though every part of you wanted to stay by his side. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “But promise me you’ll come back to me, Logan.”

Logan’s expression softened further, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. “I promise,” he murmured into your hair, his voice filled with emotion. “I’ll come back to you. I swear it.”

For a moment, you held onto him, memorizing the feel of his arms around you, the warmth of his body. But the clock was ticking, and you both knew it. Reluctantly, you pulled back, looking up at him one last time.

“I love you,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute.

Logan cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “I love you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Now go. Don’t look back.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from breaking down completely. With one last lingering look, you turned and ran back to the truck, your heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.

As you drove away, the lumberyard fading in the rearview mirror, your mind raced with thoughts of Logan, of Victor, of what might happen next. The fear gnawed at you, but you forced yourself to focus on getting to safety, on doing what Logan needed you to do.

The road ahead was dark, the highway stretching out before you like a path to the unknown. Every mile felt like a thousand, every minute an eternity. But you kept going, knowing that this was what Logan wanted—what he needed.

You reached the motel just as the first signs of dawn began to streak the sky. Exhausted and emotionally drained, you checked in, barely registering the details as the clerk handed you the key. The room was small and plain, but it felt like a sanctuary amid chaos.

Once inside, you locked the door, double-checking it as if that would somehow keep the world at bay. Then you collapsed onto the bed, your mind and body finally giving in to the weight of everything that had happened.

You wanted to sleep, to escape the fear that clung to you like a second skin, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan—wondering if he was safe, if he was already facing the man who had haunted his past and now threatened your future.

You curled up on the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that could somehow replace the comfort of Logan’s embrace. The room was silent, but your mind was anything but. The uncertainty of what would come next loomed large, the fear of losing Logan gnawing at your heart.

And as the hours stretched on, you could only hope that Logan would keep his promise—that he would come back to you, safe and whole, so you could face whatever was ahead together.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

Hours had passed, each one stretching out longer than the last. You stayed at the motel, anxiously waiting for Logan to return, clinging to the promise he had made. But as the hours turned into days, the silence became unbearable. The weight of not knowing gnawed at you, a constant ache that you couldn’t shake.

Logan hadn’t come back.

You tried to convince yourself that he was okay, that he was just being cautious, making sure everything was safe before coming to get you. But as the days dragged on without a word, your worry grew into something more—a cold, suffocating fear that something had gone wrong.

By the time the third day arrived, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to know. You had to find him.

With a resolve born from desperation, you packed up your things and checked out of the motel. The drive back into town felt surreal, the familiar road now filled with an ominous tension. The closer you got, the tighter the knot in your stomach grew.

When you finally pulled into town, the sight of the lumber yard where you last saw Logan filled you with both hope and dread. The place was eerily quiet, the usual hum of activity replaced by an unsettling stillness. You parked the truck and stepped out, your heart pounding as you scanned the area for any sign of Logan.

But there was nothing—no sign of him, no indication that he had ever been there.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. If Logan wasn’t here, then you needed to check the house. Maybe he had gone back there, maybe he was waiting for you. The thought gave you a glimmer of hope, just enough to push you forward.

You drove through town, your eyes darting to every corner, every shadow, searching for any hint of him. But the town was quiet, almost unnaturally so, as if it too was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

When you finally reached the house, your heart sank. The front door was slightly ajar, and the wood splintered as if it had been forced open. Panic surged through you as you hurried out of the truck, running to the door.

“Logan?” you called out, your voice trembling with fear.

There was no answer.

You pushed the door open, stepping inside cautiously. The house was dark, the only light coming from the early morning sun filtering through the curtains. Everything was in disarray—the furniture overturned, the walls scuffed as if there had been a struggle.

Your breath hitched as you took it all in, your mind racing with the worst possibilities.

“Logan!” you called again, louder this time, hoping against hope that he was somewhere inside, that he was okay.

But the house was silent.

You moved through the rooms quickly, checking every corner, every shadow, but Logan was nowhere to be found. The fear that had been gnawing at you for days now took root, sinking deep into your bones.

As you made your way to the bedroom, your heart nearly stopped. The bed was untouched, the sheets still neatly made—the way you had left them. But what caught your attention was the blood on the floor, a dark stain that hadn’t been there before. Your knees nearly buckled as you stared at it, the implications crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

You forced yourself to stay calm, to think. The blood could be Logan’s, or it could belong to someone else. But either way, it wasn’t a good sign.

You turned and rushed back through the house, your panic growing with every step. As you reached the front door, you paused, your hand trembling on the doorknob. You didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to accept that something had happened to Logan—but the evidence was all around you.

You had to find him. You had to know the truth.

Grabbing your keys, you ran back to the truck and sped off, your mind racing with possibilities. You thought about Stryker, about Victor, about the people from Logan’s past who might be responsible for this. You had no clear plan, no idea where to go or who to turn to—but you couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

You drove to the lumberyard again, hoping someone there might have seen or heard something. The few workers you found there were no help; they hadn’t seen Logan in days. The town felt like it was closing in on you, every shadow hiding a new fear, every corner holding a new dread.

Next, you tried the local bar—one of the few places where Logan had gone to clear his head when things got tough. But the bartender shook his head when you asked if he had seen Logan.

It was as if Logan had vanished into thin air.

What else could you do? You had no idea where Logan had gone, and even if you did find Victor or Stryker, you knew you’d be no match against them. 

You sat in the truck, gripping the steering wheel as the tears began to fall freely, blurring your vision. The weight of everything crashed down on you all at once—the fear, the uncertainty, the overwhelming sense of helplessness. You had done everything you could think of, but it felt like you were hitting one dead end after another.

You closed your eyes, letting the tears stream down your face, your sobs quiet but deep, shaking your entire body. You didn’t know what else to do, or where else to turn. All you could do was sit there, trapped in your fear and despair, hoping that somehow, some way, Logan would come back to you.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

A year had passed since that terrible day. A year of searching, of moving from one town to the next, chasing down rumors and whispers, but finding nothing. Not a trace of Logan, Stryker, or Victor. It was as if they had all vanished into thin air.

You had driven countless miles, crossing from small towns to sprawling cities, hoping to catch even the smallest lead. But every time, the trail went cold. The hope that had once fueled your search had slowly started to fade, replaced by a growing despair.

Logan was gone, and no one knew where.

Some days, you imagined the worst: that Stryker had found a way to kill Logan despite his Regenerative Healing Factor, or that he was being kept somewhere being used as a weapon, far from the life the two of you had started to build together.

You tried to move on, tried to convince yourself that Logan was gone, that there was nothing left to find. Yet, deep down you couldn’t give up, even when every sign told you that the man you loved was lost forever.

It was that stubborn hope that had led you here, to a small town on the border of Canada and the U.S. It was a place like so many others you had visited—quiet, unassuming, the kind of place people went when they didn’t want to be found. You had been here for a few days, following another dead-end lead, and you were ready to move on again.

However, something drew you into a local bar, a small, dimly lit place that smelled of stale beer and old wood.

You pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses filling the air. You weren’t expecting much—maybe just a drink to help you sleep, to drown out the endless questions and fears that haunted you. But as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, something—or rather, someone—caught your attention.

There, sitting alone at the bar, was Logan.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. It couldn’t be. You had been searching for so long, and here he was, just sitting there as if nothing had happened.

He looked different—more worn, intense, but it was undeniably him. The same rugged features, the same broad shoulders, the same haunted look in his eyes that you had come to know so well. But something was off. He seemed distant, detached as if the world around him barely registered.

Heart pounding, you approached him slowly, your mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions. Relief, disbelief, hope—all of them battled for dominance as you took each step closer to him.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you reached his side.

He didn’t react. His eyes were fixed on the glass in front of him, the amber liquid inside swirling as he tilted it slightly. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the weariness etched into his features.

“Logan,” you said again, louder this time, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and hope.

Finally, he turned to look at you, his gaze slow and deliberate. But the moment his eyes met yours, your heart dropped. There was no recognition there—no spark of familiarity, no hint that he knew who you were.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked, his voice gruff, with no trace of the warmth you had once known so well.

It felt as if the ground had been ripped out from under you. The Logan you had known was gone. The man before you looked like him, sounded like him, but had no memory of the life you had shared.

It took everything in you to fight back the tears. “Sorry, you just… you look like someone I used to know,” you stammered, your voice barely steady.

Logan’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he shook his head slowly. “Sorry, lady. I don’t know you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless with sorrow yet there was no way you were going to leave not after spending so much time looking for him.

You swallowed hard, forcing a small, tight smile as you tried to play off the hurt that threatened to overwhelm you. “Yeah… must be a mistake,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan gave you a brief, puzzled glance before turning back to his drink, seemingly dismissing the encounter. He took another sip, his attention already drifting away, back to whatever thoughts were occupying his mind.

Your heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of your emotions, but you fought to keep your composure. You couldn’t fall apart now—not here, not in front of him.

Taking a shaky breath, you moved to the stool next to him and sat down, trying to steady yourself. The bartender approached, wiping down the counter with a practiced ease. “What can I get you?” he asked, his tone polite but disinterested.

“A whiskey, neat,” you replied, your voice steadier than you expected. It felt strange, almost surreal, to be sitting here, ordering a drink like nothing was wrong. Like the man sitting beside you wasn’t the love of your life who had somehow forgotten everything you’d shared.

As you waited for your drink, you stole a glance at Logan. He was staring into his glass, his expression distant, almost lost. He looked tired—exhausted, even—but there was something else in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet had no idea why.

The bartender set your drink in front of you, and you nodded in thanks, wrapping your fingers around the glass. For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the amber liquid, trying to make sense of the situation. How could this have happened? What had Stryker done to him but more importantly, how could you possibly bring him back?

You took a sip, the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your chest, grounding you in the moment. You needed to find out if his memories were completely gone. If they weren’t, there was a possibility you could bring them back. It was risky, especially since you had never tried something like that before.

Logan glanced at you briefly, his brow furrowing again. “You’re still here?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

“It’s a public bar,” you quipped back, the words slipping out more sharply than you intended. “If you don’t like it, then leave.”

You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the situation was fraying your nerves. Logan didn’t seem fazed, though. He simply rolled his eyes and took a long sip from his glass, his expression unreadable.

For a while, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound between you the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation from the other patrons. It was both comforting and heartbreaking to be near him despite the divide that existed between you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Logan spoke again. He glanced at you briefly. “You from around here?”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head slightly. “Just passing through.” The words felt hollow, a cover for the deep truth you couldn’t share with him—at least, not yet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Logan spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “You said I looked like someone you used to know. Who was he?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. How could you possibly explain? But you couldn’t ignore the question either, not when it was the first real hint of interest he had shown in you.

“He was… someone important,” you began, choosing your words carefully. “Someone who meant the world to me. We went through a lot together, and I lost him… a while back.”

Logan’s gaze flickered with something—curiosity, maybe—but he didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded, as if understanding something he couldn’t quite put into words.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, his tone sincere. “Losing people… it’s hard.”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “It is.”

Another silence fell between you, but this one felt different—less strained, more shared. Even if he didn’t remember you, didn’t know who you were, there was still something between you, a connection that hadn’t been completely severed.

As the evening wore on, you both finished your drinks, the conversation dwindling into companionable silence. It wasn’t the reunion you had hoped for, but it was something—a starting point, maybe. You didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know if you could ever bring Logan’s memories back, but sitting there with him, you knew one thing for certain: you weren’t going to give up on him.

Logan eventually pushed his empty glass away and stood up, reaching for his wallet. “Well, it was nice talking to you…,” he said, trailing off as he realized he didn’t know your name.

You offered it, hoping the familiarity would spark something in him, ignite some glimmer of recognition. Logan just nodded, handing the bartender some cash. “Nice talking to you,” he replied, his tone polite but distant.

He gave you a final, almost apologetic glance before turning and heading toward the door. You watched him go, your heart aching with every step he took away from you.

You drained the last of your whiskey, setting the glass down with a quiet determination. This was just the beginning of a new chapter and no matter how long it took, you were going to fight for him. Deep down, you believed that the man you loved was still in there, somewhere.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

For the next few days, you camped out at the bar, hoping Logan would return. It felt helpless, a long shot at best, but all logical ideas had vanished from your mind. How else could you find him, connect with him, or get another chance to help him remember?

You sat at the same stool each evening, nursing a drink and watching the door with a mixture of hope and dread. Every time the door creaked open, your heart would leap, only to sink again when it wasn’t him. The bartender had started giving you curious looks, probably wondering why you kept coming back. But you didn’t care. You had to be there, just in case.

On the third night, as you sat swirling the whiskey in your glass, lost in thought, the door opened again. This time, when you looked up, your breath caught in your throat.

Logan had returned.

He walked in with the same weary expression, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He glanced around the room, his eyes passing over you briefly before he moved to the bar. There was no recognition, no sign that anything had changed for him.

But it was enough. He was here, and that meant you had another chance.

You watched as he ordered a drink, his movements methodical, almost robotic. He looked like a man going through the motions, detached from everything around him. It hurt to see him this way, so far from the Logan you had known, but it only strengthened your resolve.

After a moment, you took a deep breath and approached him, sliding into the seat next to him as casually as you could manage. “Back again, I see,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

Logan glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Yeah,” he replied simply, taking a sip from his glass. There was no recognition in his eyes, just the same detached politeness as before. 

You hesitated, searching for the right words. You couldn’t push too hard, couldn’t overwhelm him, but you had to do something—anything—to get through to him. “So, do you come here often?” you asked, the cliché question sounding awkward even to your ears, but it was a start.

Logan set his drink down, his brows furrowing as he turned to you. “Look, lady. What do you want from me? Who do you work for?”

The abruptness of his question caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat. There was a sharp edge to his voice, a defensive suspicion that hadn’t been there before. It was as if, deep down, some part of him sensed the truth—that this wasn’t just a casual conversation, that there was something more beneath the surface.

“I don’t work for anyone,” you replied quickly, trying to keep your voice calm despite the sudden tension. “I’m just…”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, studying you closely, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “You don’t just ‘talk’ to strangers like this. So why me? What’s your angle?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of his scrutiny, but Logan wasn’t easing up. He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming, the familiar scent of him invading your senses. “You think you’re clever, darlin’? I’ve sat across the street watching you come in this bar for days—waiting for me.”

His words cut through you, and your heart raced as you realized he had been more aware of you than you’d thought. There was an intensity in his eyes, a mixture of suspicion and something else—something darker, more dangerous.

“I’m not trying to trick you,” you said, your voice steadying even as your pulse quickened. You needed a lie, a good one. “I’m just lost. I thought maybe—” 

“Maybe what?” Logan interrupted, his tone harsh. “You thought you could just waltz in here, play nice, and I’d spill my guts?” 

You shook your head, desperate to break through the wall he was putting up. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not here to hurt you.” You hesitated, feeling the weight of the truth pressing down on you. You couldn’t tell him everything—not yet.

For a long moment, Logan just stared at you, his eyes searching yours for answers he couldn’t find. Then, with a frustrated growl, he pushed back from the bar, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

“Look, lady, I don’t know who you are or what you think you know, but I’m not the guy you’re looking for,” he said, his voice hardening again. “So fuck off.”

The harshness of his words hit you like a blow, but you nodded, too scared to even speak again. You watched as he turned away, your heart heavy with the realization that the man you once knew was buried even deeper than you had feared.

You decided you weren’t going to leave, not yet. You needed to see if there was any part of the man you knew still inside him. Maybe if you gave him some space, and kept your distance, you could still figure out a way to reach him.

The bar was getting busier, more people trickling in as the night wore on. You wandered over to the pool table, where a couple of guys were already playing. One of them, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a cocky grin, caught your eye. He gestured toward the table with his pool cue, clearly inviting you to join.

You forced a smile and nodded, figuring it was as good a distraction as any. You needed something to take your mind off the encounter with Logan, something to keep you grounded in the here and now. Playing pool with some random guy would help pass the time and give you a chance to stay in the bar without drawing too much attention to yourself.

��Mind if I join?” you asked as you approached, keeping your voice light.

“Not at all,” the guy said with a grin, handing you a cue. “Name’s Jake. What about you?”

You hesitated for a split second, before offering a fake name. “Anna.” 

“Well, Anna, let’s see if you’re any good,” Jake said with a wink.

You tried to relax, focusing on the game as Jake racked up the balls and took his first shot. He was good, but you weren’t bad either, and soon you found yourself getting into the rhythm of the game. Jake kept the conversation going with light banter and flirtatious comments, but you brushed most of it off, keeping your responses neutral.

As the game went on, Jake’s flirting grew bolder. He stood a little too close, his hand lingering on yours when he passed you the cue, his compliments becoming more suggestive. You tried to keep things light, laughing off his advances, but you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that was starting to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Finally, after you sank a particularly tricky shot, Jake leaned in close, his voice low. “You know, you’re pretty good at this,” he said, his breath warm against your ear. “But I bet there’s something else you’re even better at.”

You stiffened, pulling back slightly. “Thanks for the game, Jake,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual as you turned to set down your cue. “But I think I’m done for the night.”

Before you could move away, Jake’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” he said, his tone still playful but with an edge that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m just having a little fun.”

“I said I’m done,” you repeated, trying to pull your arm free but Jake tightened his grip, pulling you closer. You tried to squirm your hands to make direct contact with him, but his grip tightened making your powers useless. 

“Don’t be so uptight,” he said, his voice darkening as he backed you up against the wall. “We were just getting started.”

Fear spiked through you as Jake pressed closer, his body trapping yours against the rough wood. You could feel the tension in his grip, the predatory look in his eyes, and you knew this was about to go very wrong.

“Jake, let me go,” you demanded, trying to keep your voice firm despite the fear clawing at you.

Jake just smirked, leaning in even closer. “I don’t think you really want that,” he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek.

Panic flared in your chest, but before you could react, a hand suddenly clamped down on Jake’s shoulder, yanking him back with surprising force. Jake stumbled backward, catching himself on the edge of the pool table, but froze as three long, metal claws pressed against his throat.

“Get your hands off her,” a low, familiar voice growled.

You looked up, your heart pounding, to see Logan standing there, his expression dark with anger. He didn’t look at you; his eyes were locked on Jake, who had sobered up instantly, clearly not expecting to be interrupted—especially not like this. 

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Jake asked, panic seeping into his voice as Logan’s claws pressed closer to his throat. You watched in horror, realizing that something was different about Logan—his once bone claws had been replaced with metal.

“What’s it matter to you, bub?” Logan snarled, his voice carrying a deadly edge.

Jake’s eyes darted between the claws and Logan’s face, fear widening his eyes. “Alright, man, just… just take it easy,” he stammered, his bravado completely shattered. “I didn’t know she was yours.”

“She’s not,” Logan snapped, the metal claws glinting under the dim bar lights. “But that doesn’t mean you get to put your hands on her.”

Jake swallowed hard, nodding frantically as he tried to lean away from the deadly claws. “Okay, okay, I got it. I won’t touch her, I swear.”

Logan held Jake’s terrified gaze for a moment longer before finally stepping back, retracting his claws with a sharp metallic sound that echoed through the now-silent bar. Jake nearly collapsed with relief, scrambling to get as far away from Logan as possible.

“Get out of here,” Logan growled, his voice still low and menacing.

Jake didn’t need to be told twice. He practically bolted for the door, not daring to look back. The bar patrons, who had been watching the scene unfold in stunned silence, began murmuring among themselves, the tension in the air slowly dissipating.

Yet the tension in the air was still thick between you and Logan as he turned, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of injury. “You trying to start a bar fight?” he asked gruffly, his voice still edged with anger.

You shook your head, your heart pounding as Logan stepped closer to you. He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sense of the emotions warring inside him. Finally, he nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. 

He stepped closer, just inches between the two of you, as he brought his hands up, bracing them on the wall behind you, closing you in between his arms. The heat of his body radiated toward you, his presence overwhelming as his gaze locked onto yours.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you crackled with tension, a mix of fear, longing, and something deeper that neither of you could fully name. Logan’s breath was warm against your skin, his closeness intoxicating, but there was a wariness in his eyes—a warning that this was a line you shouldn’t cross.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he whispered, his voice rough, tinged with something almost vulnerable.

Despite the warning in his words, he didn’t pull away. He stayed there, inches from you as if torn between the urge to protect you and the desire to completely ruin you.

“You did that shit to get my attention, sweetheart. Go on, admit it.”

You shook your head again, pressing your body flat against the wall, but you couldn’t deny the heat spreading through you. Desire was building, stirred by the way Logan had protected you, by the raw intensity in his eyes.

Logan tsked softly, his lips brushing against your cheek before he whispered in your ear, his voice low and teasing. “So, you’re just wet for no reason?”

“I—I…” You stumbled over your words, your mind racing as you completely forgot that Logan could smell your arousal. It had been so long—one year, two days, and three hours—since he last touched you. This was a terrible, horrible idea, but if you could make direct contact, you might be able to see if his memories were still there.

Logan’s lips curled into a smirk, his breath hot against your ear. “If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your heart pounded, a mixture of fear and longing swirling inside you. You knew this was dangerous, knew that giving in could complicate everything—but the thought of being close to him again, of maybe finding a way to reach the man you loved, was almost too much to resist.

“I want you to touch me,” you finally said, your voice a bit weak, but resolute. “To make me feel good.”

Logan smirked, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you toward the bathroom. In a blur of motion, he had the door locked and pushed you against it, his lips crashing against yours with a fierce, almost desperate intensity.

Slowly, you snaked your hand up his shirt, hesitant but determined, and placed it on his chest. The contact was electric, your palm pressed against the hard planes of muscle beneath the fabric. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, unyielding, grounding you in the moment. For a second, you closed your eyes, focusing on the connection, willing yourself to find something—anything—that would prove the man you loved was still in there.

As your hand remained on his chest, something shifted. Recent memories flashed before your eyes, unbidden and vivid. You saw Stryker, his cold, calculating gaze fixed on Logan, and then Victor, throwing Logan against a wall with brutal force before stepping on his bone claws, breaking them in half.

You saw Logan submerged in water, long needles being injected into every inch of his body, before he broke out of the tank, screaming. Every recent memory was filled with regret, pain, and fear, flooding your mind until you could barely hold on.

Your chest tightened as the images surged through you, the reality of what Logan had endured washing over you in relentless waves. His pain, his anger, his confusion—it was all there, just beneath the surface, trapped within him. The memories were fragmented and disjointed, but they were enough to confirm what you had feared and hoped for the man you loved was still there, buried beneath the torment.

Logan pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, as if sensing the shift in you. “What’s wrong?” he muttered, his voice rough but tinged with genuine concern.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, the intensity of what you had just seen left you speechless. The man standing before you was the same Logan you had always known, yet he was different—burdened by new memories and experiences that had left him deeply scarred.

“It’s nothing,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you struggled to push the memories aside, to stay in the moment with him. “Just… don’t stop.”

Logan’s eyes searched yours as if trying to read the truth behind your words, but then he nodded, pressing his forehead against yours. You gasped as his hand lifted your dress, pushing your panties aside before sliding two fingers into your entrance. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice low, almost guttural.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to steady yourself. It was impossible to focus as his fingers thrusted in and out of you, the pleasure making your body tremble. But you pushed it aside, forcing yourself to slip back inside Logan’s mind, determined to find the man you knew was still there.

More images flickered by—scenes from his childhood, memories you had glimpsed before. Little Logan—or James—was sick in bed, his father comforting him by reading a story. You felt a pang of sadness, but you skipped ahead, not wanting to lose yourself that far in the past, knowing you needed to stay focused.

Then, suddenly, you saw it. A memory of you flickered by. Logan standing there as you danced around the living room, wearing his plaid shirt and grinning at him. You remembered that moment so well—the joy, the love, the simple happiness of being together.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss slower this time, more deliberate, pulling you out of his mind. You sighed into it, letting the memory linger as his kiss deepened. Your desire was building, but you felt something else—a flicker of recognition, a spark of the man you loved. It was faint, buried under layers of pain and confusion, but it was there. Logan might not remember everything, but at this moment, in this connection, there was a part of him that was still yours.

You pulled back slightly, your breath shaky, as the weight of it all pressed down on you. “Logan…”

His voice, low and rough, sent a shiver through you. “You take my fingers so well, darling.”

You closed your eyes, trying to anchor yourself in the moment, trying to hold on to that spark of recognition you’d found. “Logan…,” you whispered again, your voice trembling with both need and the deep, unshakable love you felt for him.

He paused, his fingers still buried inside you, his breath hot against your neck. There was a beat of silence, thick with tension and unspoken words as if he was struggling to hold onto something—some part of himself that was slipping away.

Your eyes flickered open as Logan’s fingers slowly slipped out of you, his expression shifting from raw intensity to something more distant, confused. His brow furrowed, and he took a small step back, almost as if he were trying to retreat within himself.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, concern threading through your voice as you tried to take a step toward him, but the space between you suddenly felt vast.

Logan shook his head slightly as if trying to clear it. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain. His eyes darted away from you as if he couldn’t bear to meet your gaze. “I must be losing it.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw vulnerability in his voice cutting deep. You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you gently cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. “Logan,” you said softly, willing him to hear the certainty in your voice.

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if seeking some kind of anchor in the storm raging inside him. Yet when he opened them again, they were clouded with doubt, the flicker of recognition you had seen earlier slipping further away.

“Everything’s so messed up in my head,” Logan whispered, the words carrying the weight of his turmoil.

You swallowed hard, the pain in his voice making your heartache. “Then let me help you,” you whispered, your thumb brushing gently across his cheek. “I can help you remember.”

Logan searched your eyes, the conflict within him clear as day. For a moment, you thought he might pull away completely, and retreat into the walls he had built around himself. But then, something shifted in his gaze—a flicker of the man you knew, the man who had always fought for you, no matter what.

His voice hung in the air, rough and hesitant, echoing with uncertainty. “What if I don’t want to remember?”

The question lingered between you, heavy with unspoken fears. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his eyes. You had been so focused on helping him remember, on bringing back the man you loved, that it hadn’t occurred to you that maybe he didn’t want to return to who he was before. Perhaps the memories he’d lost were too painful, too overwhelming to reclaim.

“Logan,” you began softly, your heart tightening at the sight of his troubled expression. “I know you’ve been a lot, but I know the man you are deep down, even if you don’t remember him right now.”

His eyes darkened, conflicted as if he was grappling with something he couldn’t quite articulate. “What if… what if remembering makes it worse? I get a glimpse every night of what it feels like—all the pain I’ve been trying to get away from.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the intensity of his emotions washing over you. “I can’t promise you it won’t hurt, but you don’t have to go through it alone. You once told me that the pain lets you know you’re still alive.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but the uncertainty still lingered in his eyes. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Your heart ached for him, for the weight of the burden he was carrying, but you refused to let him sink back into that darkness. “You are strong enough, Logan,” you said firmly, your grip on his face tightening slightly. “You’ve always been strong enough.”

Logan closed his eyes again as if absorbing your words, letting them settle deep within him. When he opened them, there was a glimmer of something new—hope, perhaps, or at least the beginnings of it. “I’m scared of what I’ve done… of who I’ve become.”

You could see the fear etched in his features, the same fear that had been lurking beneath the surface since the moment you saw him at the diner. “Whatever you’ve done, whatever you’ve become,” you said gently, “it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still the man I love. And nothing is going to change that.”

Logan stared at you, his expression a mixture of disbelief and longing as if he was daring to hope for something he thought he had lost. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t get to decide that,” you replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’m here because I choose to be. Because I love you, Logan. All of you, no matter what.”

For a long moment, Logan didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his forehead still pressed against yours, his eyes searching yours as if looking for something to hold onto. Then, slowly, he nodded, the smallest hint of a smile breaking through the storm in his gaze.

“Fine,” he whispered, the word filled with a fragile hope. “Alright… we’ll try.”

You felt a surge of relief, the tension in your chest easing slightly as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. “We’ll try,” you echoed, your voice soft but filled with determination. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Logan’s arms encircled you, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear if he let go. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. It wasn’t the end of the struggle, but it was a beginning—a chance to rebuild, to find each other again, and to face whatever memories surfaced together.

The dingy hotel room smelled of stale cigarettes and spilled alcohol as you walked in. It was clear Logan had been living like this for a while, drifting from town to town, drinking away his misery.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, the springs creaking beneath you, as Logan shut the door behind him. The atmosphere felt heavy, laden with the weight of what had happened earlier at the bar. It was strange to be here, in this small, dark room, after everything that had transpired between you.

“So, how does this work?” Logan eventually asked, his voice gruff as he leaned against the wall. Despite agreeing to this, he kept a noticeable distance between you, as if unsure of what might happen next.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, trying to collect your thoughts. This wasn’t easy for either of you, but it had to be done. “I just need to have direct contact with you,” you explained, your voice calm and steady despite the uncertainty you felt. “I can go through your memories and hopefully bring them forward for you to see.”

Logan nodded, but his eyes were distant. “In the bathroom—” His voice trailed off momentarily, making your heart race. “Did you… look inside my mind?”

“I did, but look, I’m sorry,” you quickly responded, your voice trembling as you took a step closer to him. “I just wanted to know if you were still—” Tears welled up in your eyes as the words caught in your throat. “I needed to know you were still my Logan. I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t desperate.”

Logan shook his head, walking past you over to the bed. “You can’t do that shit to people,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, avoiding your gaze as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied, wiping at your tears, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. “I was desperate. I’ve been looking for you for over a year, and—”

“What?” Logan spat, his eyes finally darting to meet yours, the intensity of his gaze startling you.

You went silent, feeling the anger bubbling up inside him, the tension in the room thickening. His posture tensed, his fists clenching as he tried to rein in his emotions.  

You stood there, his gaze heavy on your shoulders, as the silence stretched between you. Logan’s chest heaved with restrained anger, his eyes burning with a mixture of betrayal and hurt that cut through you like a knife.

“You’ve been looking for me for over a year?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous, the words laced with disbelief. “Why didn’t you think to tell me that before? Instead, you just… violated my mind without asking?”

His words stung, each one landing with the force of a physical blow. You wanted to reach out, to soothe the pain you saw in his eyes, but you knew he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

“I didn’t want to lie to you,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared and it wasn’t like I could just dump all this information on you hoping it would jog your memory. I thought I lost you forever, so when I finally found you…I didn’t know what else to do. I just needed to know if there was any part of you that remembered us, remembered me.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his every movement. He looked away from you, his jaw clenched tight. “I get that you were scared. I do. But that doesn’t make it right,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, knowing that you had crossed a line, even if your intentions had been pure.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your throat tightening with the weight of your regret. “I should have asked. I should have trusted that you’d come back to me on your own.”

Logan finally looked back at you, his expression softening just a fraction. There was still anger in his eyes, but there was something else there too—confusion, maybe even a trace of understanding. “I’m not good at this… at letting people in,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with vulnerability. 

“I know,” you said, taking a cautious step closer. “Trust me. I know because you didn’t let me in right away. It took time but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to help you through this. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. If you need time, I’ll wait. Just… please don’t shut me out.”

Logan stared at you for a long moment, his emotions warring within him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to reconcile his anger with the love he still felt for you. His breath came out in a shaky exhale, and he finally nodded, though his expression remained guarded. 

“Something tells me I don’t want to lose you.” 

“You won’t,” you assured him, your voice firm with conviction. “We’ll get through this, Logan. One step at a time.”

He nodded again, his shoulders sagging slightly as some of the tension left his body. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But no more going into my head without asking. I need to be able to trust you.”

“You have my word,” you promised, taking another step closer until you were standing right in front of him.

Logan searched your eyes as if looking for any sign of doubt, any hint that you might betray him again. But when he found none, he let out a heavy sigh, his expression softening as he finally allowed himself to relax.

“Alright,” he said quietly, his voice still tinged with uncertainty but also with a glimmer of hope. “Let’s try again… together.”

You smiled, the tension in the room finally easing as you reached out to take his hand. He hesitated for just a moment before lacing his fingers with yours, the contact a small but significant step toward healing the rift between you.

“Are you ready?” you asked gently, searching his eyes for any last-minute hesitation.

Logan gave a curt nod, but the tension in his grip told you all you needed to know—this was as ready as he was going to be.

You took a deep breath, centering yourself before focusing on the connection between you. Slowly, you let your power flow through you, using the contact to delve into Logan’s mind, searching through the tangled web of memories that had been locked away.

“I’ll try to go slow but sometimes the mind is an unpredictable place.” You said in a soothing voice. 

At first, it was chaotic—flashes of scenes, emotions, and images that didn’t quite make sense. But as you guided your power deeper, you began to find the threads that mattered, the memories that had shaped who Logan was before he became lost.

His breath hitched as a particularly painful memory emerged—a moment of betrayal, the image of Stryker’s cold eyes flashing in his mind. You squeezed his hand, grounding him, reminding him that you were there, that he wasn’t alone.

And then, slowly, the fog began to lift. Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as more memories surfaced, clearer this time. Moments of his past life, of battles fought and bonds formed. And then, there were glimpses of you, moments that had once brought him solace and peace.

You felt his body start to relax, the tension easing as the memories became more familiar, more real. His breathing slowed, his eyes focusing as he began to piece together the fragments of who he once was.

When you finally pulled back, the connection severing, Logan let out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. There was a new clarity in his gaze, a recognition that hadn’t been there before.

“How do you feel?” you asked, your voice filled with hope. 

Logan stared at you for a moment, his expression a mix of relief and lingering uncertainty. “I remembered... some things but it’s still a mess in my head.”

“That’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “It’ll take time. We’ll keep working at it if you want to.” 

For the first time since you’d entered the room, Logan’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Yeah. I saw those moments of me…with you. I can see why you are fighting so hard.” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of hope that hadn’t been there before. It was a start—a fragile, tentative start, but a start nonetheless. 

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

Five years had passed since that night in the bar. The road had been long and difficult, but together, you and Logan had faced every challenge, every memory, every fear. Piece by piece, memory by memory, you helped him reclaim his past, using your powers to bring back what had been taken from him while soothing the pain that came with it.

Sometimes, you blinked forgetting so much time had passed. The two of you have built a life far away from the chaos that once defined both of your existence. 

Nestled in the serene wilderness in the middle of nowhere you had found a home—a place where the past was put to rest and the future was whatever you wanted it to be. 

What surprised you most was how Logan had found peace in this quiet life and had blossomed into the role of a loving husband and father. 

The sound of laughter filled the warm, sunlit kitchen as Logan chased your daughter around the table pretending to be a tickle monster. At four years old, your little girl was a whirlwind of energy and curiosity. You chuckled as her little feet pattered across the wooden floor trying to escape Logan’s playful clutches. 

“Gotcha, kiddo!” Logan said, his deep voice filled with joy as he peppered her face with kisses. Your daughter giggled uncontrollably, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she wriggled in his arms.

“No!” she shrieked through her laughter, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Not the tickles!”

Logan grinned, the sight of his daughter’s pure delight warming his heart. He finally relented, setting her down on the ground and ruffling her hair. “Alright, alright, you win this time,” he said, his tone mock-serious.

She beamed up at him, her wide grin showing off the tiny gap where one of her baby teeth had recently fallen out. “I always win!” she declared, her voice filled with the confidence only a four-year-old could muster.

You watched from the kitchen counter, your heart swelling with love as you took in the scene. It was moments like these that made everything worth it—the struggles, the pain, the journey you had both endured to get here. You placed a hand on your slightly rounded belly, feeling the gentle flutter of the new life growing inside you. The little one would be arriving in a few months, and the thought filled you with both excitement and a hint of nervousness.

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” you teased, smiling as Logan walked over to you, your daughter still clinging to his leg.

Logan shrugged, giving you a sheepish grin. “What can I say? She’s tough to resist,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips before placing a gentle hand on your belly. “How’s our little one doing today?”

“She’s been kicking up a storm,” you replied, your smile widening as you felt a little nudge against your hand. “I think she’s excited to meet you.” 

Logan’s eyes softened, his gaze full of love and contentment. “I can’t wait to meet her too,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint lines that time and life had etched into his face. “I love you,” you said softly.

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment as if savoring the simple, peaceful life you’d built together. When he opened them again, the love you saw there was so deep, so powerful, that it took your breath away.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you and our girls more than anything in this world.”

“We love you too,” you replied, your heart full as you leaned in for another kiss, this one slower, more tender.

Your daughter, never one to be left out, tugged on Logan’s pant leg, demanding attention. “Play with me again!”

Logan chuckled, pulling back slightly from the kiss to glance down at his eager daughter. “Alright, alright. What do you want to play this time, kiddo?”

“Hide and seek!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Hide and seek it is,” Logan agreed, lifting her again and spinning her around before setting her down. “But you better hide good, ‘cause I’m the best seeker in all of Canada!”

“Dinner’s almost done, so don’t play too long,” you called as your daughter dashed off to find the perfect hiding spot.

You watched Logan, your heart brimming with love and gratitude. This life, this family—this was everything you had ever wanted. And knowing that Logan had found happiness here, with you and your daughters, made it all the more precious.

With a deep sense of peace, you turned your attention back to preparing dinner, listening to the sound of your husband and daughter’s laughter filling the house. It was a sound you’d never grow tired of, a reminder of just how far you’d come and how much you’d overcome together.

[acesofspadess]

Dancing With A stranger Lover

CS55 & LN4 x mclaren!strategist!reader

a/n: putting this under Carlos because it's his win if that makes sense....

warnings: angst, Carlos and Lando being idiots, crying, some steamy content at the end, fluff

summary: a 1-2 mean more to the trio then they let on

2020

Walking up to the MTC with a mask on your face was not what you had expected when you signed up for this job… the mask part at least… but you couldn’t complain considering the pandemic was how you got your job. 

You knew about the duo dubbed ‘Carlando’; anyone who didn’t was living under a rock. They were one of the best duo’s on the grid. “Y/n!” You looked up hearing the familiar voice. “Uncle Z.” You cheered as he pulled you into a hug. “Everyone’s waiting for you, come on.” You cringed a little at that, “I told you all of this wasn’t necessary.” You scolded him but he just shrugged. “It was a team day, why not add a little extra fun?” He laughed.

“At my expense no doubt.” You rolled your eyes. “Yes, exactly.” You couldn't help but laugh with him. As you walked into the MTC you were met with a sea of papaya. “Fun.” you whispered under your breath seeing everyone interacting like family, something you now had to intrude on.

“Hey everyone! This is my niece, Y/N, she’s the new head strategist! She told me I could choose so I gave her the hardest job!” a round of laughter. “I promise you’re gonna love her just as much as I do! She’ll be joining us from today until she’s sick of me and leaves.” He joked, making everyone chuckle. You were looking for the two main people you would be working with and couldn’t find them anywhere.

“I’ll hand the stage over to Y/N now.” He introduced and everyone cheered. “Hello, everyone! It’s nice to meet everyone in this setting.And yes I am British, Zak is the only American,” She stepped to the side in faux disgust. “I walked in and it felt immediately like a family and I can’t wait to join the papaya army.” You teased but everyone cheered at the family name. “I know compared to some of you my job is a track walk, but I plan on still bringing everything I can to the team and-” 

She was cut off by the two aforementioned boys running in not quietly at all. “-and making sure I get those two to wherever they need to be,” she looked at her watch, “not 20 minutes past the scheduled time.” She teased immediately and everyone laughed and applauded. “We’re keeping her!” Someone she knew to be Jon, Lando’s performance coach, said, making everyone laugh again.

“Well, that’s all I think I have to say…” She looked at Zak who nodded, “alright, yeah that was easier than I thought. I look forward to working with everyone, cheers to an amazing year ahead.” 

Everyone applauded as her and Zak left the stage and people got acquainted with her. “And these two, whom you already know, are Carlos and Lando.” Rupert -Carlos performance coach- introduced. “Nice to meet you, hope you didn’t mind the call out too much.” You joked. “Not at all.” Carlos shook your hand, then passed it to Lando, “It’s nice having someone who can have a laugh around here.” He said eyeing Jon and Rupert.

That was where it started. Throughout that year you had all become close, it was more than just co-workers, you were friends. Age wise you were in the middle of the two, but were definitely the most mature. They came to you when things got too hard to keep to themselves.

It wasn’t long after Lando’s first podium did you find out the two were dating. You had your hunch, them not being the most discreet in challenges… but you think you loved them even more for that. The turntable in your relationship was when Carlos moved to Ferrari. You were hit harder than you thought you would be and that’s when you realised your feelings for the duo. 

Seeing them in their red and papaya fireproofs acting as if they were on the same team made you feel…left out?.... You weren’t sure at all.

2022 The British Grand Prix

No one had to be a mad scientist to feel the tension in the air between the trio that weekend. You wondered if it was because you had invited one of your male friends to the race. Carlos was the most distant from you, which spiked curiosity considering he wasn’t the driver that would be near him the most. You wanted to ask them about it and when you saw the couple walking upstairs into the Mclaren hub that Saturday before qualifying, you followed them.

“What’s your issue?” You opened the door startling the duo who were sitting on the couch. “What happened to hello, how are you?” Lando asked, pulling you in by your arm and closing the door behind you.

“Hello, how are you? What’s your issue?” You asked the first part sarcastically then got down to business. “You.” Carlos muttered under his breath. “Are you having a laugh?” You asked with a dry chuckle. “Why did you bring him?” Lando asked, resuming his spot in Carlos' side. You hated how perfect he fit into him. How they fit into each other. “Why did I bring my best friend to a race that happens to be in our home country? Let me think? Why else?!” You threw her hands out exasperated.

“Are you dating him?” Carlos asked. “I did just say best friend did I not?” You asked rhetorically. “Y/n…” Lando pressed. “No, what the hell? We aren’t dating. Why does it matter to you two if I was.”

“Because we’re your best friends.” Lando explained. “Oh spare me.” You laughed. “You’re telling me you were this upset because you thought I was dating someone?” You clarified. “No,” Caros shook his head and the confusion was written all over your face. “We weren’t mad because you were dating someone-”

“I’m not.”

“-were mad because you weren’t dating us.”

Crickets. 

“I’m sorry what?” You asked a little in shock, which was slowly turning into anger. “We want to date you.” Lando summed up. The moment you laughed you saw the hope drain from heir eyes, and you felt a little bad. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this to happen?” You started, eyes filling with tears. “Ever since you moved to Ferrari I knew I wanted both of you, but never like this.” She waved her hand between them. “Y/N-” 

“No, you don’t get to treat me like shit this entire weekend because your ego was damaged. If you wanted me you would have just told me. Not act like children and potentially ruin all relationships between us.” You told them, wiping your fallen tears. They stood up as they saw that trying to comfort you but you held your hand out

“No, you don’t get to backtrack now that you see your actions have consequences.” You told them harshly and they physically cringed, you’d only seen Lando cry a handful of times but the tears in his eyes weren’t the same as before. You took a deep breath looking at your watch. “You better get back to Ferrari,” you looked at Carlos, “Jon will be wanting you before qualifying starts.” She then told Lando before opening the door and leaving the couple.

You avoided the boys that entire weekend as much as you could. You still had a job to do and that came first. Carlos converted his pole into a win and you were beyond happy being there for his maiden win.

You knew you had to congratulate him, despite wanting to ignore them both. You walked into Ferrari being greeted as you were always in there. “Upstairs.” Rupert pointed with a wink and she knew he knew what happened.

She knocked on the door hearing a ‘come in’ and opening it. “Y/n…” Carlos isghed. “I just wanted to say congratulations, this was probably the best way to get your maiden win.” She told him with a genuine smile. “But it wasn’t. I didn’t get to celebrate with you.” He told her pulling her sit between the couple.

“We’re sorry we acted like children.” Lando said, placing a hand on her thigh. “I know, I feel like I overreacted.”

“You didn’t.” Carlos denied. “You had every right to act the way you did, and I- we promise to never do that again. Please be ours, mariposa.” You chuckled. “When was the last time you called me that?”

“Only when he wants something.” Lando threw him under the bus. “Ai!” Carlos threw his hat at Landos face. “Then it works doesn’t it.” You looked at them. “Kiss me, por favor.” Carlos begged and you laughed before kissing him. “I’m feeling left out.” Lando pouted. You kissed him next, “now you know how I feel.”

Mexico 2024

And Carlos Sainz is your Mexico City Grand Prix winner!

You wiped your tears from the McLaren pit lane in happiness. “Go!” Andrea shoved you softly and you laughed, taking your headphones off before making you way to the barrier of the podium where you filmed your boys spraying champagne on each other.

Carlos found you below and made sure he gave you a healthy shower of champagne. The weekend was over and you all went out dinner with Carlos’ family, it was sweet and innocent, the total opposite of the club that followed later on.

Mexico City was alive that night, the streets buzzing with excitement, but the club where you, Lando, and Carlos are is on another level. Carlos was in the centre of the action, the crowd chanting “Smooth Operator,” and he was soaking up every second.

Lando wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close with a grin as he watched Carlos climb onto a friend’s shoulders, throwing his arms up in rhythm with the crowd. The bass reverberated through the club as Carlos swayed to the beat, a mischievous smile lighting up his face when he caught your eye. The moment was surreal, and you can’t help but cheer for him, feeling proud and captivated.

“Look at him,” Lando shouts over the music, his lips brushing close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “He knows how to work a crowd.”

“If people don’t know who he is and what just happened, they’re going to be very confused.” you laughed, turning to Lando, catching the gleam in his eye. His arm slipped from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you against him as you both watched Carlos’s performance. 

When Carlos finally climbs down, the crowd erupts, and he heads straight for the two of you, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

“Shots, shots, shots!” he cheers, grabbing a server and handing each of you a drink. The tequila goes down smooth, and Carlos laughs at the way you scrunched your face afterwards. “That was not just tequila.” You laughed and Lando was right there beside you, his hand slipping around your waist as he raised his glass.

“To Carlos, the smoothest operator!” Lando toasts, his gaze playful. Carlos’s eyes meet yours, holding your attention as he clunk his glass against yours before downing another shot. The three of you have been looking forward to a night like this, and it’s clear that Carlos intends to make every moment count.

As the music changes to a slower, seductive beat, Carlos extends his hand to you. “Dance with us, hermosa,” he says, his voice low, and you feel his hand slip into yours, fingers lacing together. He pulled you onto the dance floor, and you didn't resist. With Carlos in front of you and Lando behind, you’re surrounded by them, their warmth and energy pulling you in. Your bodies moved together in sync with the beat, and you let yourself melt between them.

Carlos’s hand slips to your hip, guiding you in time to the music, his breath warm against your neck as he whispers something along the lines of drunken ‘I love yous’. Lando’s hands are at your waist, grounding you, but his eyes are alight with mischief as he leans closer, pressing a kiss to the side of Carlos’ neck. Between the three of you, the chemistry is undeniable, every touch charged with anticipation, every glance brimming with heat. It’s like the rest of the club disappears; there’s only you, Carlos, and Lando, hands and lips exploring with unbridled intensity.

You glance over your shoulder at Lando, and he meets you with a searing kiss, deep and lingering. His fingers tighten on your waist, pulling you closer, and you feel Carlos’s hand on your chin, turning you back toward him. His lips find yours, softer but just as passionate, and you’re dizzy from the way they both consume you, each kiss making you forget where you are.

“Having a good time?” You ask Carlos sweetly.

“You have no idea,” he murmured, smirking, and running his hand up your back, fingers tracing your spine.

You danced for what felt like hours, bodies entwined, lost in the beat, the three of you creating a world all your own. By the time the night winds down, you’re breathless, hearts racing.

You were laying in bed the next morning seeing only a few videos of the night before circulating but none of the three of you. “I was kind of hoping they did catch us.” Lando kissed your shoulder. “Really?” You asked knowing you didn’t go public for his sake. “Yeah, I wanted to kiss you so bad yesterday and I couldn’t.”

Carlos flicked his nose, making Lando yelp. “You wanted to? I won the race and could barely kiss you.” You laughed opening the photos app. “Well we’ve got plenty of photos to expose ourselves.”

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carlossainz55 P1 en México! 🇲🇽🏆 Increíble ganar aquí frente a esta gran afición, gracias a todos por el apoyo! He disfrutado de la carrera de principio a fin, sin duda un fin de semana para recordar 🙌🏻

P1 in Mexico! 🇲🇽🏆 Winning here in front of this incredible crowd is amazing, thank you all for the support! I enjoyed the race from start to finish, definitely a weekend to remember 🙌🏻

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fan1 Slide 2???? talk about hard launch!!

fan2 YESSSS THE WORLD IS HEALING MY TRIO ARE AN ACTUAL TRIO

landonorris smooth operator

yourusername ❤️❤️

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landonorris Things you love to see 🇪🇸🇬🇧bravo Carlitos ft our girl 

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carlossainz55 Vamos mi amor!! 💪🏼💪🏼

fan3 oh this is gold

fan8 Y/n and carlos on the second slide😫

hater1 why did they wait until Carlos won to post when Lando has won 3 times already, Lando hun…..

landonorris because I didn’t want them too, lets not turn this into something it isn’t

yourusername what he said

carlossainz what they said

yourusername need more 1-2’s in my life (only this duo though)

mclaren you work for us…

yourusername oops….

oscarpiastri hello??

yourusername I SAID OOPS!

yourusername just posted

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yourusername my forever 1-2

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fan4 can this year get any better

fan5 i don't think so

fan6 mclaren carlando>>>>

yourusername my favourite carlando 🧡

landonorris ❤️you baby

carlossainz55 🧡you mariposa

fan6 the opposite hearts (melt emoji) my heart (happy eyes)

scuderiaferrari favourite trio

mclaren something we can agree on

charles_leclerc i was there too

yourusername we love you too charlie

landonorris what she said

carlossainz55 what they said

[red-revival]

Pristine cut Fury is hitting everything I love about body horror and it's hitting hard... I'm gonna go on a long ramble below the cut. Not only did this update give us so much more wonderful gore, it also goes into the more psychological and emotional side of body horror that I love so much.

I'm so happy this exists, and that I get to see the same feelings I have about body horror in someone elses work. This is beautiful.

I got obsessed with body horror after developing several chronic illnesses one after the other. It was therapeutic. This new side to the Fury is perfectly reflecting everything I love about body horror.

Like yeah there's the gore and blood. But there's also the fear of losing the people you love because you can't recognize them or they cant recognize you anymore. There's the loss of autonomy and having your own will, living a life you can't escape because you weren't given a choice. There's the identity crisis, not knowing who you are without some kind of pain or complication. There's the ways that warps you and how you see yourself, how abuse and being trapped and hurt not only changes your mind but the constant living in survival mode physically warps your body.

Chronic fatigue and pain can develop because of trauma. It turns out spending years in survival mode with almost no chances to properly rest causes damage to your body, sometimes to your individual cells. Sometimes you don't ever recover from that damage.

And then there's the choosing to accept it. Coming to terms with being different, with having to live a different life that's not the one you were looking forward to. Accepting that you've changed, and the people around you have changed, and that the change is part of living. Accepting that you can't do what you used to be able to anymore. Accepting that you're nothing like the you that you recognize, and that maybe thats ok.

Moving on from the life you wanted and learning to live with what you are now.

Seeing all of these reflected in both the princess and the long quiet felt like being told I wasn't alone anymore. Like being really seen and understood for the first time since my health spiralled.

There are people like me, just as lost and trapped in their bodies as I am, just as traumatized by their health. Enough people like me, like us, that these thoughts and emotions are reflected back sometimes.

And the chapter ends like it always does. When everything is quiet again, you go to wipe the mirror clean. This time, it doesn't disappear.

This time, you can finally see your reflection staring back at you. You've grown.

[howlett-variants]

"I've got you"

a/n: I love Charlie Kenton sm, he deserves more love. Also, I haven't written an X reader fic in like 10 years forgive me.

Prompt: Charlie gets his ass kicked, thankfully he has you to patch him up! Words: 2,975 Tags: gn!reader, post movie, hurt/comfort, Charlie is very dog coded to me and I don't know how to tag things anymore

You could have never guessed your day to go like this. Work had been boring as all hell. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting to hang out with those you cared about most over at Tallets Gym. Bailey was basically your closest friend at this point. She was kind and caring but could always match your energy- especially if that energy was being angry with Charlie. Speaking of Charlie, seeing him was always one of the best parts of your day. Even when he was being an idiot, or impulsive, or both- he always knew how to put a smile on your face. Which was much needed after a boring day at work. You even looked forward to seeing Max most days. The kid was the spitting image of his father when it came to personality, which definitely had its downsides. Max was probably the most independent eleven-year-old you’ve ever met- he was always determined to do stuff by himself. Even if he ended up asking you or Bailey for help in the end. Things were never boring with the Kentons. 

Today would be no exception.

Your phone rang mere moments before you were about to park in front of the rundown gym.

“Hel-” You started, but were quickly cut off by the sound of your good friend Bailey in a panic.

“Charlies hurt.” “What?” “Max just called, and he’s freaking out-” You could hear her voice quicken on the other end. 

“Slow down Bail, where are they?” “Some gas station twenty minutes outside of town, they were on their way back from a fight and-” She gave you a few more vague responses, clearly not sure of the situation herself, but that was okay. You could work with that. There weren’t that many gas stations on that side of town, plus it would be hard to miss Charlie’s massive green truck. 

–

Ten minutes, and a few potential road laws broken, later- you finally spotted the truck. You pulled up next to them, attempting to not fully slam on your brakes. Your panic had slowly grown over the last few moments, and panicked driving is not a good idea. 

Tossing the door open in a quick motion, you stepped out and ran over to see Charlie sitting on the tailgate of his truck. Max was next to him, holding a makeshift ice pack to his face. 

“How’s he doing?” You plant your feet in front of them, doing your best to keep your arms at your side to not fret over him. At the sound of your voice, Max looked over with a smile. Charlie attempted to look at you, but winces the moment he tried to open his eyes.

“I’m fine- just a black eye.” Charlie replied weakly, still unable to fully open his eyes. 

“He might need stitches this time.” Max’s smile fades, returning to a worried expression. 

“Let me see.” Max nods before jumping off of the tailgate, making room for you to take his place. You carefully move to sit next to him, close enough for your legs to touch. You reach a hand up to his face, slowly peeling away the ice pack. It took everything in you to not visibly tense at the rather nasty wound on his face. Whoever beat him up this time actually used a weapon, brass knuckles, if you’d have to guess. He had a large gash right next to his eyebrow, reaching almost to his ear, as well as a black eye and numerous other bruises all over his neck. You can only imagine the amount of bruises he was hiding on the skin you couldn’t see. “Yeah…that’s going to scar. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Don’t have one…” He mumbled.

“Come again?” You can’t help but sigh, “With how much you get beat up-”

He avoids your glare and refuses to respond, which is Charlie for ‘You’re right, but I will not admit it’. With a slight roll of your eye, you reach into your back pocket with your free hand and take out your wallet to hand to Max. “They should have bandages, or at least some cotton balls I can use to stop the bleeding. Grab what you can- if nothing else, your dad can save it for later.”

The kid nodded as he took your wallet before running back into the gas station. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea to just hand your wallet to an eleven-year-old, but you knew Max would at least grab what you asked- even if he came back with a few extra snacks.

Seconds after he left your eye-line, you heard Charlie suck in a sharp breath. The sound caused your full attention to turn back to the man next to you. He was no longer sitting upright, but instead leaning on the side of the truck as if the metal wall was the only thing holding him upright. You were quick to notice the stiffness in his shoulders was far worse than a few seconds ago, and you didn’t have to ask why to know what was going on in his head. 

“Char, the kid just watched you get your ass kicked- again. You don’t have to act all tough. Hell your face is bleeding like some kind of horror movie victim. He knows that you’re not alright.” It broke your heart to see him like this. He was always putting on a front of the big strong unfeeling douchebag, but you knew better. You also knew better than to question it. Max was a strong kid, but he was still just a child. No kid should have to watch this dad getting beat up as much as Charlie did. You moved your hand from his face to his shoulder, using your thumb to rub soothing motions in a small attempt to comfort him. 

“How’d you get here so fast?” He questioned, completely avoiding your concerned comments.

“Max called Bailey. Bailey called me. Here I am.” You moved your free hand up to his face, attempting to inspect the wound a bit more. Fingers lightly holding his chin, making it easier for you to move his head if needed. He couldn’t help but lean into the small touches. “I think I still have some pizza in the car. It’ll be cold by now though.”

He let out a light chuckle, mouth struggling to turn into a smile without pain. “Maybe when my face is done bleedin’ out.”

You smile at him, grateful to hear that his sense of humor was still intact. The moment he winces again, your smile falls. “What the hell happened?”

“Just some assholes that I used to owe money to, what else-” He pouts, “I would have been able to our run em but-”

“Max…”

He didn’t have to even look at you for you to understand what he meant. From what Bailey had told you in the past, getting his ass kicked out of the ring was nothing new for Charlie. He was constantly coming back to the gym with cuts and bruises, and the occasional broken bone, but ever since he regained custody of his son, he’s tried to be a lot more careful. He had always been reckless and almost uncaring when it came to what happened to him, but now he had someone to protect. Thankfully, the Atom fights had helped pay off practically every debt he had ever owed, but there were still some people who had it out for him that couldn’t give less of a shit if his son was watching or not. 

The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck, before you carefully pulled him closer to you. You positioned his head to rest comfortably on your shoulder. Your other arm snaked around his back, holding him in a secure hug. “It’s okay…I’ve got you.”

Your hushed tone was all he needed to melt completely into your hold. His face hid in the crook of your neck, like it was the only thing keeping him in one piece. His arms found their way around you, holding onto the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. Charlie Kenton was many things. He was a boxer who had seen his fair share of violence, as well as a man who routinely went to shady places for robot fights, but he was also a father who had no idea what he was doing. To him, there was nothing more terrifying than the idea of his son watching him bleed out (and potentially die). Whoever had attacked him this time didn’t hold back. He honestly didn’t know if he was going to make it out in one piece. 

He was in pain and scared shitless, but you were there. You kept him grounded, like you always knew what to do or say to keep his anxieties at bay. You were his rock, and he was yours. The two of you had this unspoken thing that not even Bailey dared to bring up to either of you. You could feel your shoulder becoming damn, from both tears and the blood from his wound- but you didn’t care. The stains would come out, and even if you ended up having to throw the shirt away, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man quietly sobbing in your arms. 

He would never admit it, but Charlie cried a lot. Never in front of you or anyone else, but you’d always catch him silently crying to himself in the middle of the night. You knew that Bailey and Max were aware, but all three of you knew better than to mention it to him. Anytime that you gathered the nerve to ask him if he was alright in the middle of his crying session, he’d just yell at you to go away. You knew he never meant to actually yell at you. Normally he’d even apologize the next morning with a vague ‘sorry about last night’ while avoiding any actual questions about whatever he had been upset about. But right now, he didn’t care. There was nothing he needed more than you. 

—

Time passed by in a small blur. The only sound you could hear was Charlie’s heavy breathing finally beginning to regulate itself to the sound of your light humming. His arms were still wrapped around you, but the grip on your shirt had loosened. You still had one arm around his back, the other had found its way to his hair- playing with the short brown strands. 

“I got some stuff!” Max’s sudden voice startled you both. You turned your head in his direction to see that his hands were filled with an assortment of bandaid boxes, a bag of cotton balls, and a few snacks that he bought with your money (which you fully expected would happen). Charlie’s body went stiff under your arm at the sound of his son’s voice, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. “This is all they had.”

“Thanks kiddo,” you smiled at him. The arm around Charlie’s middle let go, so you could reach out for the ‘medical’ supplies. He silently mourned the loss of the touch the second you let go. You placed the items next to you before your gaze returned to Max. “Why don’t you sit up front and update Bailey, tell her we’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll get to work patching up your dad’s apparently very punchable face.”

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Max still smiled. Charlie made a mental note to thank you later for the small attempt at saving what was left of his pride. Thankfully, Max obliged and left to go sit in the front seat, giving you two a bit of privacy.

Using both your hands, you carefully lifted his head off of your shoulder. He made a small noise of disappointment as you pulled him from his safe spot. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. You held his face in between your palms as you examined his face one more time. His eyes were a little swollen from the crying, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The adrenaline must have finally worn off. 

“Okay, I’ll do what I can, but I’m taking you to actually get this checked out first thing in the morning.”

“Fine by me.” his words were beginning to slur together. Something told you that you’d be the one driving the truck back to town tonight. It would be safer to leave your old car than the massive truck holding one of the most popular boxing robots at the moment. 

Your humming continued as you cleaned up the drying blood from his cheek. There was only so much you could do with the limited items (and skill) you had, but you stayed focused. With the bleeding stopped and wiped away, the wound wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. It would still leave a nasty scar, but it was small enough that a trip to an actual medical professional could wait. As you worked, you could feel Charlie’s head become heavy in your hands.

“You falling asleep on me?” You teased lightly.

“mmmno.” It was more of a noise than an actual word. 

“Almost done, big guy. Then you’re welcome to crash on your little cot back there.” Between the warmth of your hands, the soft touches, and your quiet humming as you worked- Charlie was practically melting. Bailey and you liked to joke that he was like a dog sometimes, from the bursts of impulsive energy, to the unapologetic joy over the smallest things, and of course his mastery of the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that he often used on you and Bailey to get what he wanted. He would always scoff or roll his eyes whenever you would tease him or whenever you called him a dog. You couldn’t help it, especially at times like this- with his eyes comfortably closed and melting into your every touch. It was adorable, despite the fact that you were actively cleaning up a wound. 

“Can’t sleep yet-” His body betrayed his words by interrupting his sentence to let out a yawn. “Gotta drive back.”

“Not like this, you’re not. I’ll drive.” Driving the truck wasn’t your favorite, but you have done it before. As long as you didn’t get pulled over, you could drive it home without a problem. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed before you actually pass out on me.”

With a light pat to his cheek, he dutifully allowed you to help him stand. His head immediately seeking your shoulder to lean on again. He was taller than you, but still seemed perfectly comfortable once he found the crook of your neck again. You blamed the blood loss and the crying for how touchy he was being. It’s not that he wasn’t a touchy person. He had a lack of personal space with those he was close to, but this was different. For a second, you questioned if this was even beyond him seeking you out as a source of comfort. 

Ignoring the swirl of worry and emotions you had yet to even fully admit to yourself, in your stomach, you carefully led him over to the cot inside the truck. You gave him a small nudge to sit down. He listened with only a small sound of complaint. The disappointment was short-lived. You could almost see ears perk up the moment you returned to sit by his side. 

“Thanks…for doing all this.” Standing must have woken him a little. His voice was much clearer than it was a few seconds ago. 

“It’s not like I was going to let you bleed out.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile across your lips, as you finished putting the last bandaid on his face. It was a haphazard job, but it would do the trick- at least for a few hours. 

“I know. Glad to have you on my side is all.” Your eyes moved from the collection of bandages to his eyes, feeling a little shocked by the genuine emotion they held. Charlie didn’t have a lot of people to count on. You knew that better than anyone.

“I’m happy to patch you up anytime.” Your hands left the sides of his face where you had been diligently working, moving down to find his hands. He took the hint and intertwined your fingers, giving them a light squeeze. The two of you were bonded, neither wanting to question of risk actually talking about what that bond was. You were waiting for him to say something, and he was in between being far too chicken shit and waiting for you. So many days spent dancing around either other like this. You knew, even now, that neither of you would mention the softness and tenderness from tonight’s interaction. He’d go to sleep as you drove him, and he’d wake up not remembering much of the night in the first place. Still you sat with him, foreheads pressed together, basking in each other’s company. 

“I gotta take you home, Char.” You whispered, not wanting to leave this moment yet. His grip on your hand tightened, but he still allowed you to pull away.  

“Tomorrow, let me take you to dinner.” His voice wasn’t as quiet as yours, but it was even more unsure of itself. Speaking before thinking, as always, but looking deep into your eyes this time. “As…thanks.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the offer. The two of you went out for dinner alone all the time, but something about this felt different. You gave his hand one final squeeze and planted a small kiss on his cheek before standing up. “It’s a date.”

[lara4eclipze]

“take a chance with me”

sypnosis; "damn it i love you—how hard is that to understand!" you exclaim

cw; angst , fluff , slow burn , dream academy contestant!reader , crying, erm not proofread , angst with a ____ ending

now playing: “take a chance with me” by NIKI

train , eat , sleep and repeat , this was basically your daily routine, it was boring? tiring and overall exhausting not only physically but mentally, every end of mission you get the gruesome privilege of watching your friends get eliminated — not only that you can get eliminated too

you question if this is even worth it, I mean this was your dream right?—only reason you stayed was for her

you made a promise to Lara that if she gets eliminated you would leave too , but as long as she's in the competition your in it too

you couldn't leave her , over the course of weeks and months of being together you developed a crush on her— shes perfect really

—★

"y/n—please step forward and receive your invitation" the voice says , it felt unfair — yet you stood up and got your invitation, going back to your seat Lara held your hand noticing how you were about to cry

"hey are you alright?" she says after the cameras stopped rolling

"i hate it here—Lara I don't wanna do this anymore" you said as tears fell onto your cheeks , she quickly hugs you resting your head onto her shoulders

"we can do this—don't give up" she reassured you , you felt her kiss your head while patting you'r back

"don't leave me" she says , you heard her voice crack , as she started tearing up aswell

"hey don't cry" you said finally looking at her , you wipe away her tears and held her cheeks in your hands

"I won't i promise" you said hugging her yet again

—★

as you and the rest of the girls made your way back to the dorms — there was tension or just silence

everyone was tired and upset over the eliminations yet what can they do

as you walk back into your room it felt empty with some of your roommates eliminated

"y/n" you hear Lara from behind you , you turned around seeing her in some pyjamas, her eyes half lidded and about to close

"why?" you ask she should be in her room by now , so why was she here , she looked adorable with her hair messy and how she's practically about to pass out from drowsiness

"can I sleep with you? — please" she looks expectantly, I mean who are you to reject that right?

you nod , after so going to the showers to freshen up , as you made your way back to bed you saw Lara already in there using her phone

"thought you were tired" you chime , she giggles , god her voice was like a bandage to your wounds

"just waiting for you" she replied hugging you till you fell in bed next to her , she was very clingy awfully so , but a small part of you screamed that it was more than clinginess

as she fell asleep you held her close , enjoying the warmth that she provided , you hum out of relief

"i love you goodnight" you doubt she heard it but you hear her hum so that's something

—★

the house was silent and so was the dance practice for mission 3 , you got paired up with Laras group (confident)

at this point you really doubt if you will ever make it to the finals or even in the group

"from the top!" missy exclaims , as you made an mistake in the choreo causing you to be in the wrong position

"sorry everyone" you said as the rest of he girls groan out of frustration

after perfecting the choreo it was finally time to film it , you were a nervous wreck and so were the other girls , before shooting everyone got a 10 minute break

you went to the restrooms as you try your best not to break down , the toll this has in you was crazy , every single move was getting critiqued and one mistake can lead you to go home

"y/n?.. you in there" Lara knocks , you sniffle up and straighten your voice

"yeah?" you replied

"it's filming time— you need to be ready"

—★

after 10 plus takes , you guys finally got the perfect video, by this point you were exhausted your chest was heaving and your covered in sweat

one by one you all left the set , and went back to the dorms , the girls planned to eat out which you politely decline

you slum in bed , wearing Lara's t-shirt , doom scrolling in tiktok

until you heard the door clicked , the girls are home , you heard endless chatter and laughs

as you waved them in , you saw Sophia and Lara was still in the car , Lara was facing away from you but you saw them — they got closer to eachother eventually kissing?

oh.

oh.

you felt your heart ache , why can it not be you who does that to her — instead of dwelling and risking getting caught you ran back to your room drawing some attention to you

you lied on your bed your face hidden beneath some pillows as you tear up

"why am I crying" you question yourself, after all you and Lara weren't anything

—★

"y/n-" you heard Lara outside your door

"go away" you huff out it came out harsh but you didn't want it to

"why are you acting like this?" she says , surprised by the way you answered her

"can't you hear me i said go away!" the last thing you want is Lara coming in seeing you crying over her, you heard the footsteps fade away as she walks away

you let it out , but soon your roommate Daniela came and knocked on the door , you forced yourself up and wiped away your tears it's obvious you cried but you just hoped she wouldn't question you

"hey" you said letting her in

"is it true?" she asked , you were confused on what was true

"what?" you ask

"you screamed at Lara" the latina sighs

was it that loud? , did she tell anyone? why does Dani know?! god why

"yeah..." you said guilt chewing you up

"great job Sherlock , shes crying now — WAIT are you crying too?!" the older exclaimed

"wait shes crying?! — but I didn't mean to make her cry" why did she cry god you were supposed to comfort her not make her feel like this

"where is she?" you ask

"in Sophias room" the shorter explains

you debate whether to go there or not , first you didn't wanna see Sophia , second you didn't wanna see her with Lara

"are you going?" she asks

"fine"

—★

as you enter Sophias room you're met with a crying Lara hugging Sophia

why did you even go here , to hurt yourself?

"Lara—I'm so sorry I didn't wanna scream at you I was just not in the mood I'm just tired" you exhale

"everyone here is tired y/n! why are you acting like your the only one" Sophia cuts you off patting Lara's back

"this isn't your business—plus I'm talking to her" you snap

"oh really?! , the last time I checked Lara's my friend too" Sophia stands up , yes she was intimidating and yes you were scared

"just give her some time with Lara" you heard Manon behind you say to Sophia , before leaving the room Sophia glares at you

can this day get any worse?

"Laru — I'm sorry" you said sitting down beside her , she looks at you wiping away her tears

in a blink of an eye she hugs you tightly, her tears getting soaked up by the shirt you wore , you cradle her making sure she felt safe

"I'm so sorry okay?" you repeat as she nods , understandingly

"what were you doing anyway" you hear her sniffle , shit now what would you say? oh I was crying cause I saw you kiss Sophia and I liked you so it hurt me?

no that sounded stupid and so immature

"nothing" you said , as you hug her tighter , was it gonna get ruined? your friendship? you didn't want that nor any tension

"I know you , don't lie to me" she says , pouting , and huffing

"I swear it was nothing, now quit crying okay?—ill let you sleep with me if you do" you knew Lara loved sleeping with you , she was just very affectionate and clingy

"really" her voice low and mellow

"yes" quickly her demeanor changed all smiley and giggly

"what the fuck" you heard Manon and Daniela at the door , they looked astonished i mean who wouldn't be , that's all it took to make her stop crying?!

"shut up" you mouth to the duo , who quickly left

—★

obviously tension was still there , afterall you saw what Sophia and Lara did— every time you closed your eyes it's all you can see

anytime Lara approached you it felt , weird and forced

little to your knowledge it also hurt Lara, she didn't know why you acted like this

"tell her" Marquise pipes up

"how? — I can ruin our friendship if I do , and I swear to God I saw her kiss Sophia" you said sighing out of frustration

"you never know—plus Sophia is taken man"

"What?! are you serious!" you exclaim, so your practically imagining shit now??

"by yours truly" marquise giggles

"you're as gay as me" you point a finger at her , still in shock with the news

but still didn't they kiss?! , was it just because of your angle?!

—★

as you and Lara got further away from eachother it was like everyone noticed

everyone knew , Lara barely left her room it was really weird , but as the finale approached you had to put a game face on and do your best

"hey y/n" Megan sighs entering your room

"why?" you knew why she was here , you just couldn't tell her why your drifting away from Lara

"what's up with you and Lara" Megan scolds

"nothing" you nonchalantly reply

"shes been isolating herself from the rest of the girls , whatever is happening between you two — fix it " Megan says before leaving the room

you grunt in frustration , how did you get yourself into this arrangement?—not thinking much you just wanted to leave this place and run to her , to what you know is real

—★

you'll regret this you know that but Is there any other way?

"are you serious?" Daniela says as tears appear on the corners of her eyes

"it's for the better" you sigh , urging the latina for a hug

"why are you gonna quit— how about us being in the group?" the shorter sniffles

"trust me I'll support you no matter what" you sigh

"ill tell the rest , you stop crying it's not like I'm dying" you giggle

—★

"it's alright?" you sigh after explaining why your leaving and how you would still support them

one by one the girls run to you hugging you as they shed their tears

except where is Lara? — thats okay you'll just tell the other girls to tell lara

"tell her" Manon says

"I can't - I just can't do that" you stammer

"your gonna break her heart even more" Manon tsks

—★

now standing outside the indians room , your hands were sweating your heart was racing

before even knocking Lara opens the door , she looked tired and almost like she hadn't slept in a week

"what" she coldly ask , okay so we're off with a great start

"can we talk for a moment" you exhale

she lets you in the room , mess is an understatement there where hoodies all over the room you spot yours aswell but chose not to speak on it

"what do you need" she huffs sitting on her bed

"I-Im leaving..." you said , you hesitated for a moment , fiddling with your shirt , eventually looking up

was she crying? , her hands covered her face as you heard endless sniffles and hiccups

"hey don't cry"

"how can I not! , we promised eachother— you've been acting like I'm the dirt on your shoe! your ignoring me like I did something so bad! just tell me what I did!!" she retaliates , angry tears leaving her eyes

you were stunned , the sweet Lara you knew who barely would hurt a fly snapped at you

"you didn't do anything—its me I'm the problem"

"I want you to continue in this shit academy and win , obviously it's gonna be hard but you can do it right" you said

"I know I did something to upset you!— why are you lying to me!" she says , you try to hug her but she pushes you away

"why are you acting like an idiot! — god we promised eachother to stay in this shit of an way to fame now your leaving me?!" she screams

"it's not like that!" you finally break

"you make me feel like you like me but then I see you kissing another girl how does that make me feel?!— and yes if sounds selfish but don't you get it , I like you how hard is that to understand!" you scream back , your voice slur and it silenced the room

"I didn't kiss anyone" Lara says

"so what did I see that night when you and her were alone in the car?" you sniffle , was she lying to you now?

god you wanted to run and jump out to oncoming traffic , you loved her — yet it felt like you were wrong for doing so

"we didn't kiss y/n , shes my best friend" Lara calms down collecting herself

"yeah and I'm blind now apparently" you said chuckling at her blatant lie

"believe me" Lara says her voice softening

"I'm so tired of doing that—it just makes me think I have chance with you — it messes me up can't you see?" you said , standing up from her bed you get your bag and got all her shirts out of it

"here" you said giving her the shirts you pick up your sweater from the ground and left her room

—★

talking with Missy and Mitra was another story , they didn't allow it due to some contract problem

"but"

"sorry but we can't do that" Missy replied

going back to the dorms the girls obviously knew why and they helped you understand more

"I don't know anymore —i feel trapped in this place" you sigh

Megan and Daniela exchange a look which you didn't fail to notice

"what" you ask

"nothing..." the two drags out their words

"i know that stupid look you guys have what is it"

"you'll see"

—★

you woke up to a empty house and a note at the fridge

"out eating see you later xx" the handwriting was like Megan's , it was messy

"but I'm hungry too" you sigh , you open the fridge and get some leftovers heating it up before eating it

ring ring

you answer your phone

"what" it was Megan who called

"soo we won't be home till like 8pm , it's currently 12 so figure it out" Megan says ominously

"what do you mean?" you ask

"also can you bring home some gummy snack" you follow

"guess who's home aswell" the older says

"wait..LARA?" instead of replying they hang up gigglibg

—★

it's alright, you don't have to interact with her

you hid in your bathroom, since you thought maybe doing your make up would distract you

"shit" you swear under your breath as you had to do your eyeliner for like the fifteen time

click

was it already 8? who's in your room , what if it's a buglar , wait Lara's alone!

you check your phone and there it is , it's only 2pm

you creek the door open just giving you a view of who's in your room

black hair , tan skin , belly button piercing — wait that's literally Lara what is she doing in here

before you got to leave the bathroom she goes into your bed , was she gonna sleep here?

"I miss you" you hear her whisper , the familiar scent of her perfume wafted through the room , it threaten you to just run out and hug her assure her that you love her yet you couldn't you felt too nervous to

she stayed there until you heard her soft snores , heaving breathing

you walk out of the bathroom quietly trying not to startle her

she looked peaceful almost as if it's her first sleep in weeks , her face was relaxed as she hugged your pillow

you sat next to her slumbering form , and brush some stray hair off her face , you enjoyed the moment of silence, all your thoughts and worries washes away

"hmh?" you hear her hum , she pulls you towards her with surprising strength, you laid next to her as she snuggled her head in your chest

"I'm sorry , I still love you — please don't leave me" Lara whispers

"I won't , and I'm sorry if I doubted you i should've just told you how I felt insteadofhidingititwassostupid" you blurt out , you got cut off when you felt her lips on yours as she hushes you

she smiles into the kiss

"relax silly" she chuckles as she feels your heart pounding , you were as red as an tomato and about to scream out of excitement

"I can't help it"

"so.. uhm what are we" you ask

"nerd" she giggles you start to get playfully defensive

—★

you were hopelessly captivated by her , who isn't right?

you heard a knock on your door , but since sleeping Lara was clung onto you , you decided not to open the door

until the knocks fade , you wait and then

1..

2..

and there they are , the rest of the girls were outside as Megan opens the door smirking

she pulls out her phone followed by the others and took pictures of the scene

"oohhh" Yoonchae and Ezrela gasps

"guys no pictures no pictures" Daniela says acting like a bodyguard as if she didnt take pictures too

"you all look stupid" you said chuckling

"yeah? and what are you doing there.." Manon teases

"hmh?.." Lara wakes up a bit and sees the girl she flushes and hides her face at your chest

they all gasps in faux surprise

"i won the bet Manon give me my money" Sophia says to Manon

"what bet?" you question

well soon you found out they took a bet on how they're gonna see you two when they came home—atleast you took your chance with Lara

funny how you thought that love was overated yet here you are inlove with her with Lara

[puppy-stevee]

when they clean the house for the first time after moving in together, steve thinks eddie's gonna put on the same music he's always blaring in his van, but he's surprised when a martina mcbride song starts playing through the speakers they installed throughout the house. he looks over and eddie is dutifully avoiding eye contact, instead choosing to keep his eyes glued to his phone, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

"what's this, eds?" steve asks gently.

eddie shrugs and puts his phone down, pulling a lock of hair in front of his face. " s'what my mom used to put on when i was a kid and we'd clean the house. guess it kinda became a tradition." he picks up his phone again. "i can change it if you want, i know people have strong opinions about country music-"

"no!" steve steps forward and takes eddie's hand that's holding the phone. "no, i-" he gives him a soft smile. "i like it. i just thought you'd play one of those bands you always listen to."

eddie snorts and steps out of his space with a gentle squeeze to steve's hand and grabs a bottle of cleaner and a rag. "i have layers, steven." he lets his accent slip out a little, enjoying the flush on steve's own cheeks. "you know i was raised in kentucky before i came here. i'm just a little country boy at heart."

"yeah," steve agrees. "i just didn’t think you, like, liked any of that stuff, cause of-" he gestures at all of eddie.

a grin sweet as sin slides onto eddie's face easily. "oh baby," he drawls, "if you wanted the full experience, all you had to do was ask."

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

The Exorcist, 1973

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: Man I’m really fighting to finish Kinktober, like I have ONE MORE to write

Day 15: Innocence Kink

Buck was definitely good at parties. As he stood in the kitchen, nursing a cold beer, Eddie walked over and patted his shoulder.

“Hey, we’re gonna do a game of spin the bottle, you in?” 

“What are we?? 17?!” He scoffs as he sips his beer

“I made sure you were across from that girl you’ve been looking at all night” 

“You know me so well!” He cheeses, wrapping his arms around Eddie and squeezing him. 

You sit down on the floor, your legs crossed out in front of you. Your friend next to you giggles as Buck sits down across from you. You blush and look away from him, whispering to your friend, and Buck blushes, whispering something to Eddie before the game begins. 

It’s been 10 minutes and Buck has already seen you kiss three girls and one guy, and that nearly had him ripping that guy's lips off and tossing them into the fucking ocean, but finally it’s your turn to spin. 

Buck tries his best not to seem eager, and you get on your hands and knees, crawling forward to spin the bottle. You get several catcalls and whistles and grin, biting your lip playfully as you spin. You’re watching it go around and around when suddenly Hen knocks into Eddie, spilling his beer into his lap and leg kicks out, accidentally hitting the bottle….and it stops on Buck.

“Shit, shit- sorry” He gets up and groans, wiping at his pants 

“I’ll use the upstairs bathroom!” You all watch him hurry away, Buck’s jaw practically on the floor as Ravi comes in, taking his place smoothly 

“What are we playing?? Seven minutes in heaven??” 

“I don’t mind a switch up” You crawl over to Buck and he leans back on his hands, his body extending easily. 

“It’s up to you really” You bat your eyelashes at him and he nods dumbly 

“S-sounds fun to m-me. Yeah sure, okay.” 

You both get up and the game continues, setting more pairs up, He follows you into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. In the darkness, he can feel your small frame, your soft curves pressing against him. He reaches out, his hands finding your hips as he pulls you closer.

“I gotta admit” He speaks lowly, his lips brushing against your ear “I’ve had my eye on you all night” 

“I was wondering if you were ever going to make a move” 

“Shoulda done it way sooner…” His lips trail lightly over your jaw, leaving teasing little kisses 

"So, baby girl..." he purrs, his voice low and husky. "What do you wanna do in here?"

You gulp nervously for a second and smile uneasily, he takes a second to pull away just a little to give you space. 

“I gotta admit..” you blush, his face illuminated by the little nightlight in the bathroom “I’ve never done this before” 

He chuckles softly, his hands still resting on your hips. "Oh don't worry, babygirl. I'll take good care of you."

He reaches out, his fingers finding the hem of your baby tee. Slowly, teasingly, he lifts it up, exposing your soft, smooth skin little by little.

"You've got such a cute little body," he murmurs appreciatively. "I bet you taste as sweet as you look."

His hands slide around to cup your ass, squeezing gently.

"Tell me, Sugar," he breathes, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks."You ever been kissed before?" 

It’s such an easy question and there’s totally an easy answer… but the way Buck’s hands knead your soft flesh makes you think that maybe it isn’t all that easy to admit out loud. 

“U-um…” he can hear the wavering in your voice “Maybe once or- or twice” 

It’s starting to dawn on him slowly…. You might be a bit more innocent than he ever thought, than he ever imagined. His heart races at your admission, his cock throbbing in his jeans. He loves corrupting innocent girls like you.

"Just once or twice, huh?" He grins wickedly in the darkness, mimicking your tone. 

"Well lucky for you, I'm an expert at kissing. And I'm more than happy to give you a few lessons."

He captures your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue insistently seeking entrance. His hands roam your body greedily, one sliding up to palm your breast through your shirt while the other slides your skirt up, exposing your panties.

He breaks the kiss, both of you panting slightly. "Fuck, you taste good. I could kiss you all night.”

“I hope you do” You mumble a bit deliriously, a silly smile on your face. Your hands come up to hold onto his arms as he trails kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. 

He smirks against your skin, pleased by your eager response. He continues his assault on your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point. Your nails dig into his arm lightly as you moan softly when he bites down, clearly leaving his mark, even if it’s only for tonight. He’s praying it isn’t. 

"You're so fucking sexy," he groans, grinding his hard cock against your hip and you gasp. "I can't wait to taste every inch of you."

He starts kissing his way down your body, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake. His hands push your skirt up further, revealing your pink panties to his hungry gaze.

"These are cute," he murmurs, hooking his fingers in the waistband. "But they've got to go. I need to feel you, baby girl. Need to taste your pretty little pussy."

Your jaw drops as you feel him placing soft kisses on your thighs, giving you time to comprehend his next step, you can feel his smile against your thighs and you nod. 

“O-oh you… you want to-“

"Come on, pretty girl. Don't be shy. I promise I'll make you feel so good."

He starts to slowly pull your panties down, revealing your bare pussy inch by inch. He groans at the sight, his cock twitching in his jeans, he could only hold back for so long. 

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he breathes, his fingers skimming over your slick folds. "You want this, don't you? You want me to taste you, to make you cum with my tongue?”

“I-I do. I do want it” Your voice wavers a bit shyly and his heart races at your words, his cock throbbing with need. He can't wait to taste your sweet innocence.

He helps you lift one leg over his shoulder, opening you up completely to him. He takes a moment to admire the view, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans.

"That's my good girl," he praises, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. "You're going to love this, baby. I promise."

He leans forward, his tongue tracing along your slit. He groans at the taste of you, sweet and tangy on his tongue. Your head falls back lightly against the wall and you hold onto his hair for support. 

"Fuck, you taste amazing," he groans, his tongue delving deeper, lapping at your entrance as you squirm. "So wet and ready for me."

He starts to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue swirling around your clit. He sucks on the sensitive bud, making you gasp and moan above him as you tug on his hair, pushing his lips closer. He grins wickedly as you get more comfortable with him. 

His hands grip your ass, lifting you up so he can bury his face deeper. He fucks you with his tongue, in and out of your tight hole.

"That's it, baby girl," he encourages, his words muffled against your pussy. "Ride my face. Grind on my tongue. Fuck, I love eating this sweet little cunt."

You whimper above him, your hips moving on their own as you grind against his mouth, your face twisting in pleasure as you work your body on him. He slides two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out as he continues to work your clit with his mouth.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense as he watches your reactions. He loves seeing you fall apart, knowing he's the first one to make you feel so good and he’s silently praying the only one from now on. 

"B-Buck I think- I’m gonna cum” you pant softly, that tight coil deep in your belly so close to snapping. 

He sucks hard on your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace. He curls them just right, hitting that spot inside that makes you see stars.

"That's it, baby girl," he growls, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through you. "Cum for me. Cum all over my face like a good little slut."

He bites down gently on your clit, the mix of pleasure and pain sending you into orbit. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, your juices flooding his mouth as you cry his name over and over, holding his hair tightly and bracing yourself against the wall not even thinking about if anyone can hear you two. 

He laps it up greedily, not wanting to waste a single drop. He continues to work you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing but never stopping as he holds you firmly in place. 

Finally, you start to come down, your body going limp in his arms. He pulls back, licking his lips.

"Fuck, that was hot," he pants, his cock straining against his zipper. "You came so hard for me, baby girl. So fucking sexy."

He stands up, his hands cupping your face. He leans in, capturing your lips in a burning kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, the flavor heady and intoxicating.

“Y-you’re really good at that” You mumble weakly and he chuckles, nuzzling his face against your neck and nipping gently at your skin while pulling you down onto the floor to cuddle with him. 

“Thanks for the compliment cutie” He purrs in your ear and you giggle sleepily, holding onto his arm and shifting in his lap. Your heart nearly stops in your chest as you feel how hard he is… how massive he is, you gulp quietly and he grins wickedly against your neck. 

“What do you say…we get out of here for the night?” He places soft kisses along your neck and you tilt your head giving him better access

“You can’t just leave your party” You murmur and he huffs, holding you closer. 

“Want me to kick everyone out? Cause I’ll do it, you just say the word baby girl” 

You yawn and nuzzle into his neck, breathing out slowly and smiling “A car ride would give me enough time to rest up…” 

You shriek as he gets off the floor, taking you with him and throwing you over his shoulder as he unlocks the door, already taking out his phone to get a hotel room.

“Sounds perfect! I have heated seats!” 

[bloodyknucklesforme]

No name (taking suggestions) for this yet but yeah @syoddeye got me into Nikolai so... here's this. It's way longer than I originally planned but here we are. There will be more at some point but my fingers were just itching to write this out rn so unedited as well...

cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, cockwarming, body inspection, piv, Nikolai is evil but also kind i guess,

"Clothes off... all of them," A thick Russian accent said from the intercom. You looked up at the camera in the corner. He must of seen you hesitate, "I already paid. Don't waste my money."

It never got easier. It'd been almost a year now. As you dropped your coat to the floor your anger and shame hit the ceiling. You'd trusted your ex, he promised to help you when you lost your job, when you couldn't pay rent, when you needed to borrow money. You moved to London for better opportunities now you were in some stranger's house waiting to be used. You'd lost track of how deep in debt you were to him and his 'friends'. 10k? 20k? It made your stomach clench.

"Don't cry. You'll fuck up your makeup." is what those cunts back at the club would always say before you got in a car to a client's.

Marcus hammered it in that this was a very important client. Probably another criminal. A rich one at that. His house was more of a warehouse with an automatic front door.

"Turn around," he ordered when the last of your clothes hit the floor. Checking for a wire or weapons you guessed. Knowing you were being watched like this made your skin crawl but it was better than being groped immediately on entry.

The front room was more of a safe room with steel walls and thick doors. No windows, just the camera, an intercom panel and a white gift box.

"New clothes in the box. Put them on."

It was a too small lacy bra and matching too small panties. A washed baby blue, all mesh so you were fully exposed. The door inside clicked. You went inside.

It was nice. Expensive but not tacky like other homes you've been too. The kind of furniture you'd seen in interior design magazines and auctions, solid wood things made by designers with names you could never properly pronounce. There were soviet era antiques scattered about as decor. The first floor was open with a kitchen and dining area to the side and the rest of the room being a living area. There were stairs to the side leading up to where you guessed was the bedroom.

"You're prettier than the photo." You jumped at the voice. He was so quiet you didn't notice him on the couch. He was big, obviously tall but muscular with wide shoulders. Dark hair slicked back with a widow's peak. Stubble covered the bottom part of an aged face. He wasn't old, older yes but whatever business he was in had aged him around the eyes.

He snapped his fingers and motioned for you to walk over. He had a cigar in the other hand.

"Good. You follow instructions. More than I can say for the last one Arno sent me." He motioned for you to spin around again, giving your ass a light spank and laughing when you yelped. "You fuck anyone else today?"

"No," you shook your head. He blew cigar smoke at you, watching the silver bisect around your middle.

"Good. I'd hate to waste more time cleaning you out. They never do a good job at that." He put his cigar in the ash tray beside him. "On your knees."

"What's your name?" He asked, making space between his legs for you. You answered softly, a lie. Never give them anything was what another girl told you. He held your chin between two fingers, moving your head around like a doll. "Open your mouth."

He leaned forward, looking inside you. A thumb hooked over your bottom row of teeth. It tasted like tobacco and sweat. You'd learned to hold back gags long ago.

"I don't like girls with rotten teeth." He ran a finger over your teeth, top and bottom, occasionally pressing on one. He frowned, "Stop shaking. I'm not going to hurt you."

A lie, most likely. Men always said that before fucking you, like they could believe you were there willingly, like they didn't pick you out of a catalogue of girls. You clenched your fists in your lap and willed the fear out of your bones.

"I like girls who like you." He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and pushed your jaw shut. "I paid to have you all night. Make it worth it."

He leaned back, grabbing a remote and turning on the tv. A hockey game roared on the tv.

"Is there...uh...anything you want me to call you?"

He looked down at you, like he already forgot you were there.

"Sir, when you answer my questions. Kolya, when I fuck you." He undid his belt and spread his legs wider. You knew your job. He picked up his cigar again as you undid the zipper on his pants.

He laid a hand on the back of your head, pressing down your hair.

"Just keep me warm for now. Don't want to miss anything."

You took a deep breath before taking him into your mouth. He was thick and uncut. Intimidating even half hard. He didn't push as you worked your throat open, slowly bobbing your head. Sometimes men would ply you with liquor, help you to relax a bit more. You wish he had. The mix of salts from precum and skin filled your senses. A hesitant hand moved to rest on his thigh for leverage. He didn't shake you off.

"Good job, Kotenok." He rubbed his knuckles across your cheek. He let you rest against his thigh, nose tickled by his dark pubes. Cigar smoke, the drone of the tv and the blood rushing around your head started to calm your nerves. Maybe tonight wouldn't be as awful as you thought.

He thrusted lazily during every commercial break. Everything was in Russian so you couldn't follow the game beyond his angry or excited, more so angry, ad libs.

He finally sighed and turned off the tv. He tapped your cheek softly.

"Kotenok, I need you to make me feel better about my team losing."

He made you walk ahead of him, directing you towards his bedroom. His dark eyes dug into your spine.

His bedroom was dark. Wine colored walls with thick, velvet blackout curtains covering the windows. The bed was large with silk sheets and a down comforter.

You crawled onto the bed, swaying your hips as enticingly as you could manage. A hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed. You yelped as his hips hit your ass, cock bouncing against your cheeks.

"Remember what I told you, Kotenok?" He pulled your panties down, calloused hands scrapping against your thighs. "What to call me?"

"Kolya."

"Good girl." Two fingers felt around your entrance. A shiver ran down your spine. You weren't wet enough, you knew that. You clung to the comforter, waiting for pain.

"I told you to stop shaking. I said I wouldn't hurt you." He rubbed a hand across your ass. He sounded annoyed. You closed your eyes and pressed your face against the silk. It smelled clean and floral.

The snap of plastic and cold fingers prodding at your cunt.

"Shhh...I don't break the things I buy." He didn't admonish you for hiding your face as he scissored you open. "There we go, Kotenok."

He pushed in slowly, groaning loudly as you whimpered and fidgeted. Despite the preparation it was a stretch and burn. He held you down by your hips.

"Good girl," he purred with one last push. The head of his cock bumped against your crevix , causing you to clench in pain. It only spurred him to start thrusting roughly. Your face dragged against the sheets.

"Close your eyes and let it happen. Most of them don't last long anyways," a girl said to you early on. You didn't remember her name.

You forced out moans every time his hips smacked against your ass. Arching your back so he could think he was pleasuring you. There was a modicum of pleasure, chasing it was too much effort, especially with unreceptive partners.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, hand dipping between your thighs. He pinched your clit till you cried out.

"I don't like liars, Kotenok." He rubbed harsh circles till you moaned, shuddering hard. "Cum on my cock or shut up."

His other hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you up. Your back rested against his chest. Still rubbing your clit, he hooked an arm under yours and rested it between your breasts while holding your chin and forcing you to look upwards. There was a mirror on the ceiling.

"Say my name," He barked.

"Kolya...please...Kolya. I..."

"Want to come on my cock? Beg me for it."

"Kolya please...please Kolya. I want to come. Please. Kolyaaaaa!"

You watched yourself as he forced you up to your peak, clenching around his cock. He laughed harshly and smacked your pussy. He held you up as your legs failed to hold you up any longer. You came hard, grabbing at his arms, manicured nails digging into his muscles.

He growled something in Russian before biting down on your shoulder. He filled you to the hilt, his cock twitching inside your still clenching pussy. His cum was a familiar warm. He let go and you fell face forward against the bed.

"Catch your breath. I still want my money's worth."

You lost count of how many times he fucked you. You were pliant and submissive, following his lead as he bent you into whatever position he wanted. He was more virile than you expected.

You woke up sore, dried cum and bite marks covering your body.

"You shower before you leave. Scrub well." He slapped your ass before shutting the door and locking it from the outside.

It was a large shower but more importantly the water was hot. Not warm but hot. You could have cum just from feeling the jets against your skin. The body wash was luxurious - sweet and woody. You scrubbed well. These kind of men didn't want their DNA wandering all over the place.

There was towel left for you but no clothes and your lingerie from last night was missing as well. He did leave a cup of tea for you on the bedside table.

You kept the towel wrapped around yourself as you walked back downstairs. He was sitting at the dining table, typing on a laptop, cup of tea still steaming and full.

"Come here, Kotenok." He tugged your towel till it fell to the floor. He tapped the inside of your thigh till you spread them. "Don't start shaking again."

You bit your lip. He spread you open with two fingers, tilting his head as he inspected you. You yelped when he forced a dry finger inside you, moving it around and dragging it against your walls.

"Good girl." He pulled his hand and away and got a money clip from his pocket. "I like you. I'll ask for you again."

He handed you five hundred pounds. You stared at Charles in disbelief. You'd been tipped before but never this much.

"Thank you, sir."

"Did I ask you a question?" He didn't look away from his computer.

"No...umm...Thank you, Kolya."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"If Arno takes that from you, tell me. That's your money. I paid him enough as is. Now go get dressed. Your car is here." He pointed back towards the front door.

You hurried off. For the first time more scared to leave than to stay.

[kiwi-on-ice]

Kinktober 2024 day 30: Choking with Junker Queen

Fem reader, NSFW 18+

Also contains dom!odessa, degradation, slight fear play, thigh riding

“I can’t believe you’d be that desperate as t’bother me when I’m workin’!” Odessa snaps, gripping your upper arm and taking you to her throne. She spins you so you’re facing her, doe eyes blinking up.

“I’m sorry…I just feel so needy.”

She scoffs, although you don’t miss the flicker of a smirk that traces along her features. You know how much she loves it, you needing her, you behaving so wantonly just for her affections. Makes her feel powerful, in control. And if there’s one thing about the Junker Queen, it’s that she loves to be in control.

“Yeah you’re needy, you’re thinkin’ with that needy pussy of yours instead of y’pretty head.” She states, lifting her hand to grasp at your jawline.

At her words, a flush of embarrassment rises up to your cheeks, not being able to help glancing away. She growls, clearly displeased with that little act of disobedience, so her hand slips down to wrap around your throat.

The result is instant, a soft moan escaping you before she even places any pressure on you. Her eyes widen a little, searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But all she can see is pure, unfiltered lust.

“Fuck…y’really are filthy.” She mutters, observing the way her hand looks around your neck. The size difference is palpable between you both, as she stands tall and proud, towering over you. And not to mention her hand itself, it could practically dwarf your whole face, so wrapped around your neck it makes you feel so helpless and small.

She grins, the power going to her head. Gently she tightens her grip, enough for your breath to catch as you realise what’s happening. Her other hand grabs your hip tightly, ensuring you aren’t going to move anywhere.

“Look at ya…lettin’ me do this. You’re really so desperate for m’attention that you’d willingly put y’life in my hands?” She says, head tilted as her red eyes burn into your own.

“Yes…” you manage to get out, not trusting your voice to do anything else.

A devious grin spreads on her features, as her grip tightens even more. The lack of blood reaching your head makes you feel dizzy, the exhilarating sensation not helping the current heat blossoming between your thighs.

“Can you take it?” She taunts, tightening further. You’re fighting for small breaths now, airway becoming tighter. Your eyes blink as the slight fear starts to settle, but just when you start to get worried she lets go.

Your chest heaves as the air and blood rush back, but your eyes never leave hers. The submissive look on your face pleases her greatly, deciding to forgive your earlier neediness as she takes you over to her throne, settling you on her meaty thigh.

“Well since y’caught me off guard, being such a little whore, I can’t give you what you need.” She says, referring to her lack of strap. “So why don’t you grind y’pretty ass on my thigh until I deem you truly desperate enough.”

You nod quickly, starting to drag your hips forwards and back, her hands pulling your skirt up so she can see your ruined panties rubbing across her skin. Each time your clit catches the denim at the end of her shorts, you mewl softly.

She helps you, gripping your hips and leaving indents as she manoeuvres you. Cunt clenching around nothing, you whimper and attempt to stabilise yourself by holding her broad shoulders, but she tuts.

“Hands behind y’back. I’ve got ya.”

You let out a slight huff before moving your hands, a huff that she doesn’t appreciate. “God y’just can’t stop yourself from being a fuckin’ brat can you?”

She reaches up and once again wraps her hand around your throat. Squeezing gently, your back arches as you moan shakily.

“Now, you’re gonna cum with my hand wrapped around that pretty neck of yours, or y’not cummin’ at all.”

[peterman-spideyparker]

Let There Be Love (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I didn't fall off the face of the earth! I've been writing, but, I've really just have had a lack of motivation to post. Enjoy! :)

Summary: When Matt asks you to find your cassette player, you humor him. As he pops in the tape and you begin to dance with one another, you recall the first time that you met your fiancé.

Warnings: Sweet fluff, established couple, flirty banter, kisses talk about marriage/wedding

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 1,252

“It’s evidence,” you say with a little shrug. “You’re an attorney. You can appreciate that, right?”

“It’s hoarding,” Matt chuckles as he walks over to you with a full glass of wine. 

He clinks his own glass to yours. “I keep what’s important,” you explain before you take a sip. 

He kisses your temple as his hand slides down the curve of your body. “Hoarder,” he murmurs.

“This hoarder will take her cassette tape player back into evidence lock up if she needs to—.” He gives you a little puppy dog pout, his eyes sparkling in the neon coming in through the frosted windows. You run your fingers through his hair as you lean forward with a kiss. “You know you love me.”

“Of course I do,” he says with another little kiss to your lips. “Thank you for your expansive evidence lock up, angel.”

“So,” you start, taking a sip of your wine and sitting on the sofa, tucking your feet underneath you. “Why did you need my cassette player?”

“Because we’ve been trying to figure out our first dance song,” he explains as he fiddles with the machine. “I was looking around in my bedside drawer for my backup glasses until I could get my regular ones fixed, and I found this tape. Do you have any idea what it is?”

“Foggy’s Intro to Punjabi tape?”

Matt tosses his head back in laughter. “C’mon, seriously.”

“I can’t say that I do! I mean, in all honesty, too, I think the last time I used a cassette was 2004. 2007, maybe.”

“This tape belonged to my dad. He made it. It had some of his favorites, some songs that he dedicated to my mom. One he thought they’d play at their wedding. I was listening to it one day—I was missing my dad, and I popped it on. Then, a girl with the prettiest voice I’d ever heard came knocking at my door with a bushel of carrots in her hand, asking if I’d seen a rabbit hopping about the residence hall . . .” You watch Matt smile as he gets the tape to play in the spot that he wants. “This was the song that was playing when we first met. This is the song that I’d like to play when I dance with you for the first time as my wife.”

“Now I feel bad about my joke.”

“C’mere.”

“Matt,” you hum sweetly, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. 

“I can never remember the name of the song, I just know the sound. That’s why I needed the cassette player.”

He leans in, giving you a long kiss as you both slowly start to sway in a little circle. “You know where we found that rabbit?” I grin. 

Confusion briefly furrows his brows. “Where?”

“Our study spot. Well, it wasn’t our study spot at the time, but, that’s where Tony Hawk was. Like a sign. Premonition?”

“Wait, wait. The rabbit’s name was Tony Hawk?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I never told you that?”

“No!” he laughs, holding you closer. “I think I’d remember that detail.”

“Well, that’s what happens when a veterinarian student from Carlsbad, California is in charge of naming animals.”

“Well, then, thank God for Tony Hawk.” Matt leans in for a kiss as one of your most cherished memory to mind. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” you sigh as you look around desperately. How you're the one that got wrangled into finding a rabbit, you don’t know. It belongs to your roommates best friend’s boyfriend’s roommate, and yet you're the one carrying the bushel of carrots around your dorm trying to find the quickest bunny around. “Tony! C’mon Tony Hawk, I’ve got all these tasty carrots for you, pal!” Your eyes light up when you notice a door on the left of the hall is open. With any luck, he’s either snuck in there, or they at least noticed a rabbit bounce down the hall. Picking up your pace, you make your way down to the door. 

Gently knocking on the wooden frame, you poke your head in. 

“Hi,” you start, finding just one guy—one gorgeous guy—sitting on his bed with an open book and music gently playing in the background, something smooth and jazzy. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but have you seen a rabbit around?”

He lifts his head up, his beautiful hazel eyes sparkling in the late afternoon light. The kind of bright light that happens just before dusk. His smile is warm and inviting, and your heart races. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you try to keep your cool. Based on his face, this is that hot blind law student you’ve heard all the girls talk about. Unfortunately, you're so focused on keeping your cool, you miss his response.

“Um,” he responds. Oh, hell, his voice is as warm as honey in tea. “Are you alright?”

“S-Sorry,” you stutter. “I’m okay. The bunny is just small, y’know? I’d really just like to get him back to his owner.”

He flashes you a little smirk, his brows bunching together in amusement. “The rabbit isn’t yours?”

“No,” you sigh, letting him in on your annoyance. “Long story. Don’t ask.”

“Okay, I won’t. For now, at least.” You chuckle softly as you dip your head. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

“(Y/N),” you respond. “It was nice to meet you, Matt. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No, not a bother at all.” The smile pulls back on his face as he pulls his fingers off of the open book in front of him. “I’d offer to help look, but, I have to go to class in a bit.”

“No, you’re totally okay. I appreciate it.”

“Maybe if you’re not still hunting for a rabbit later, we could grab some coffee.”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he says softly.

You smile at one another like idiots for a good few beats before you start to slowly back out of his room. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You sway with Matt in the living room, looking up at him, your entire world. Your sun, your moon, and your stars. And in a few months, he’ll officially be your husband.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

“Just how that damn rabbit led me to the love of my life,” you say softly. “Do you think we would’ve found one another later in life had it not been for Tony Hawk?”

He just smiles as he leans his face toward yours. “You’re my destiny, angel. One way or another, I was always going to find you. I was always going to fall madly in love with you. I was always going to marry you.”

You feel how tears sting at your lash line. “You’re gonna make me bawl like a baby when we do our vows, huh?” you sniffle.

“Oh,” he says with a sweet pout. “I’m not that cruel. I’m going to write them out for you to read before the ceremony. If you’re gonna cry, what makes you think I’ll be able to get through saying them without crying?” Matt just leans in for a soft kiss, his lips lingering on yours for a long time before he’s satisfied. “I love you so incredibly much,” he whispers. “Thank you for loving me in return.”

You snuggle in on him, resting your ear right over his heart. “Forever and always, Matty.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione @catnip987​ @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters  @loves0phelia

[littleredwing89]

FAMOUS [PART FIVE]

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Summary: “After you, princess.” You rolled your eyes but smiled as you climbed in. “You know, if you keep calling me that, I might start thinking you’re flirting.”

Warnings: None. A little bit of manhandling with a crazy fan.

A/N: And as promised, here is the next chapter 🥰🥰 sending all my love to you wonderful readers & please enjoy the next chapter - Elle xoxo

———

HANDS OFF

———

The crowd buzzed with excitement as you signed autographs, your smile bright but your energy fading. You were used to this—the fans, the chaos—but sometimes, things got out of hand. Like now.

A fan, much too close for comfort, pushed forward, eagerly shoving a phone in your face. “Can I get a selfie? And an autograph, too?”

Before you could answer, his hand lingered on your arm a little too long, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a chill down your spine. You tensed, but before you could react, Jason was already moving.

In an instant, Jason had the guy by the collar, effortlessly lifting him up as though he weighed nothing. His grip was firm around the guy’s neck, voice low and dangerous. “Step back, buddy.”

The fan’s eyes widened in shock, his voice shaky. “W-what are you doing?!”

You stepped behind Jason, your heart racing, but your hand instinctively reached out to touch his arm. “Jay, it’s okay, please… Come on, let’s go.” Your voice was soft, trying to soothe the fire in his eyes.

Jason’s glare was locked onto the guy for a moment longer, his jaw tense. But when he looked at you, his expression softened slightly. He glanced between you and the guy before dropping him, letting the fan stumble back.

“Come on,” you urged gently.

Jason put his jacket over your shoulders, pulling you closer as the two of you made your way out of the crowd. You snuggled into the warmth of the jacket, inhaling the scent of his cologne—leather and spice, comforting and familiar.

“Thanks for back there,” you said, offering a soft smile.

Jason looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly flustered. “It’s my job.”

“I know, but—thanks,” you repeated, your hand squeezing his forearm gently. You glanced over at a nearby food stall and grinned. “Let me get you a hotdog as my way of saying thanks. I know you like junk food, Mr. Muscles.”

He smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’ll take you up on that, Ms. Hotpants.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one photoshoot.”

“Oh—it was enough,” he teased, his smirk growing wider.

——

As you grabbed your food, Jason stood close to you, his presence reassuring as he blocked the prying eyes of the crowd. It was like a barrier between you and the world, a wall of protection you were getting used to.

“It’s difficult sometimes,” you mused as you both sat down to eat. “People don’t really understand personal limits or space.”

Jason took a huge bite of his hotdog, lathered in an obscene amount of ketchup. “Trust me, I have a brother like that.”

You grinned, glancing at his hotdog. “Got enough ketchup there, bud?”

He grinned back, unbothered. “I think I need another bottle.”

You laughed, squeezing mustard onto yours. “I know I haven’t been the easiest to get along with lately, and I’m sorry. It’s just been hard to adjust, y’know? I’m used to being alone most of the time.”

You tried not to add, Having a hot bodyguard is hard.

Jason shrugged, his voice teasing. “Relax, princess. I know you divas need your space with all that ego and all.”

You blushed at the nickname, rolling your eyes to hide it. “It didn’t help when you started going through all the cupboards in my house.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. My best friend—who’s an idiot by the way—gave me shit for that.”

You grinned. “Good. Thank him for me.”

Jason scoffed. “I’d rather not.”

——

As you both sat under the dim lights of the street food stall, the noise of the city seemed to fade into the background. It was just the two of you, sharing hotdogs and trading banter like old friends. Jason’s usual guarded expression had softened, and for once, you could see the man behind the tough exterior.

“You know,” you said between bites, “it’s weird. I’ve been in crowds like this my whole career, and I’ve never had someone step in like that before.”

Jason glanced at you, his blue eyes briefly flicking up before returning to his food. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone. That’s why I’m here.”

You nodded, appreciating the simplicity of his response. There was no grand speech, no overt promise—just quiet, steady support. It was one of the things you were growing to like about Jason. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, but he was always there when it counted.

“Still,” you mused, wiping a smear of mustard from your lip, “I don’t want to be the girl who needs a bodyguard all the time. I’m supposed to be the badass frontwoman of a rock band.”

Jason chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You can still be badass and have someone watching your back. Besides, I think the crowd would lose it if you started throwing punches on stage.”

You grinned. “Maybe I should try it. Could add a whole new vibe to the show.”

“I’ll be front row for that,” Jason said, smirking.

There was a beat of silence, the kind that usually would have felt awkward, but tonight it felt… easy. Comfortable. You both finished your food, the night air cool against your skin, and for a moment, you let yourself relax. Being around Jason was strange that way—one minute, it felt like you were on edge, and the next, you felt like you could let your guard down completely.

As you tossed the last of your wrappers into the nearby trash can, you noticed Jason watching you, his gaze more thoughtful than usual.

“What?” you asked, brushing your hands on your jeans. “Do I have ketchup on my face?”

He shook his head, still studying you like he was seeing something he hadn’t noticed before. “I just… you’re a lot stronger than people give you credit for.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Jason shifted in his seat, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward slightly. “You’re out here every night, dealing with fans, managers, press—and you’re handling it all like it’s nothing. Most people would crack under that kind of pressure. But you? You just keep going.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, the unexpected compliment catching you off guard. Jason wasn’t one to hand out praise lightly, and hearing it from him felt… different. Special, even.

“I’m just doing my job,” you said softly, unsure how to respond.

Jason’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he stood, extending a hand to help you up. “Yeah, well, so am I.”

You took his hand, his grip strong and steady as he pulled you to your feet. For a moment, your hands lingered, the contact sending a spark of warmth through your skin. You quickly let go, clearing your throat.

“Thanks, Jason,” you said, your voice a little quieter than before.

He gave you a brief nod, his expression softening. “Anytime.”

As you both walked back toward the car, the night air cool against your face, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. There was something different about tonight, something unspoken yet undeniable. Jason had always been a wall of protection, a shield between you and the chaos of the world. But tonight, he felt like more than that. He felt like someone you could lean on. Someone you wanted to lean on.

When you reached the car, Jason opened the door for you, his usual teasing smirk back in place. “After you, princess.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you climbed in. “You know, if you keep calling me that, I might start thinking you’re flirting.”

Jason chuckled, closing the door behind you before slipping into the driver’s seat. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

——

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, the city lights flashing by as you leaned your head against the window. You watched Jason out of the corner of your eye, his strong hands gripping the wheel, his jaw set in that determined way he always had. And for the first time, you wondered what it would be like to reach across the space between you, to touch his hand, to let yourself get a little closer.

But you didn’t. Instead, you let the comfortable silence fill the car, knowing that for now, this was enough. Jason was enough.

———

Back at the apartment, you kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. The exhaustion of the day had finally caught up with you, and all you wanted to do was curl up under a blanket and sleep for a week.

Jason, ever the professional, leaned against the doorframe, thick arms crossed over his chest. “You need anything else before I head to my room?”

You shook your head, smiling softly. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for everything tonight.”

He gave you a small nod, but instead of heading to his room, he lingered for a moment, his eyes flicking to the TV. “You’re watching that zombie show again?”

You shrugged, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels. “It’s comforting. Something about mindless brain-eaters makes me feel better about my own life.”

Jason snorted, pushing off the doorframe and heading toward the kitchen. “You’re weird, you know that?”

“You like it,” you called after him, grinning.

Jason’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah.”

You chuckled to yourself, settling back into the couch and pulling the blanket up to your chin. As the familiar sound of zombies groaning filled the room, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. It was strange—being with Jason had started off as a professional necessity, but now, it felt like something more.

***

[asirensrage]

kinktober entry 13: Dub-Con

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Togame Jo x afab!Reader Fandom: Wind Breaker Warnings: dub-con. oral sex (m!receiving). public sex. unbeta’d.

notes: this one was fun, but I was super nervous about it because I've never written for Wind Breaker before this. I hope you like it. This is for @reiners-milkbiddies. It's also the last of the planned kinktober fics. Thanks for joining!

kinktober masterlist

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs. “Taking me so well.” 

He buries his hand in your hair, tilting your head back more so he can see your face. He knows you weren’t expecting this, not the two of you hidden in the woods of the festival after he saved your ass from a bunch of snake assholes who were trying to take something that didn’t belong to them. As if any of them could ever deserve you. 

Not that he does. He’s not like Sakura or Umemiya. He’s done shit, but he thinks it’s worth it if it’s brought you to him. 

Tears line your eyes as you look up at him and you’ve never looked more beautiful in the moonlight. You had offered him a reward when he saved you, motioning to the festival lights. You had probably meant food, but he had seen his opportunity and he took it.  

Now he had you on your knees in the forest, sucking him off like you’ve always meant to be. Fuck you’re pretty. He groans, glasses shoved up his hair before pulling you off of his cock and leaning down so he can kiss you. It’s messy and you whimper into it as he drags you up to your feet. 

He pulls back, a trail of saliva connecting you until it breaks and you’re panting. He strokes your cheek, gazing at you as you try to come back and focus. “Come on, we’re not done.” 

“T-Togame..”

“Think we’re closer than that, don’t you?” 

You swallow tightly and nod, biting your lip. It makes him give in to the urge to kiss you again. “Jo.”

“Yeah, sweetness?”

“What..” You fall silent as he pushes you back against a tree, hooking one of your legs up around his waist as he shoves your skirt up. “What are you–” You squeak in surprise as he moves in close. 

He groans, lips brushing against yours as he grinds his hips against yours. “What do you think?” 

“But I-!”

“Shhh,” he hushes you, eyelids lowered, making him look drowsy. Or maybe just drunk on you. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” 

“But…Jo…”

“Don’t you trust me?” He grins then, trying to put you at ease, even as he positions his cock to your entrance, shoving your underwear to the side. 

You sniffle and nod and he takes that as permission to push forward. You arch into him, tears building in your eyes as you cry out. He swallows it with a kiss, pulling you closer until he can barely tell where he ends and you begin. 

He groans, burying his face in your neck as he feels himself surrounded by you. It’s heaven, he thinks. It’s better than anything he’s ever felt and despite the way you’re clutching at him, whimpering into his shoulder as he slowly starts to move, he knows you’ll feel it too. He’ll make sure sure of it. 

🕶️

taglist: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

@themaradwrites @kingsmakers @thatmagickjuju @awkwardchick87 @hayatoseyepatch

@scythegal

network tag: @pixelcafe-network

[sleeepybeary]

☆ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ☆

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓: Agatha just wants to show you her latest act as a magician, yet even that somehow goes slightly wrong.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 644

Stumbling into the room, came your girlfriend. With a smile held high upon her face, hands clasped behind her back, she looked undoubtedly suspicious.

“Love, can I show you a magic trick?” she had uttered, a glimpse of mischief already settling within her eyes.

Blinking up at the young woman, you wave your hand with an unamused look. This was the third time she had attempted some kind of weird magic trick with you today.

Though, you suppose no day is ever a normal day when living with Agatha.

“Yeah, okay. Last time though” your words came out in a more exhaustively delivered sigh than anything else, your eyes hooded in their usual cascade of boredom.

You weren't doing much before Agatha entered the room - but watching her fail again was something that could keep you semi-entertained at the very least.

Agatha quickly shifts her position, moving to stand in front of you as she holds her hands out in a clasped position, almost like a clam.

“May I present to you, my magic!” Her voice deepend in a way she'd deem to be mysterious as she pulls back the hand on top, revealing the small of some fly as it rests within her palm; limp and vulnerable.

“Uhm… Agatha… this has to be the weirdest start to one of your performances yet”

“Your point?” She chuckles, her other hand still hovering over the small creature. “Now, watch closely as I turn this fly… into a bird!”

Your eyebrows hang slightly lower as you focus on the way her hand moves around the fly, watching as she then proceeds to clasp her hand over it once more in an almost dramatic clap.

“Abracadabra!” She laughs out to herself, her contagious smile taking effect as her teeth gently sink into her bottom lip.

“Very original” you chime in, watching expectantly as she creates a small cup out of her hands - therefore revealing the contents of her creativity.

Though, instead of seeing what you were expecting - that being the fly in a questioning transformation - you came across an empty space.

Agatha had let out a sound somewhere between the crossroads of a groan and a scoff. She was almost bewitched in response.

“Where did that pesky thing go this time?”

“This time…?”

“Yes” she paused to pinch the bridge of her nose - her elbow bent perfectly as she held it up high in the air for some sort of dramatical effect. “Last time it ended up in the drawer to our-”

Agatha was cut off at the sudden flapping of something small - a dash of green and blue zipping past her face. “Well, I suppose we've found it?”

Agatha tutted, pushing her tongue against the inner of her cheek as her eyes moved to a fixed focus upon the small bird.

“I mean, at least we know it worked…?” You smile slightly, feeling half conscious under the inferno gaze that your girlfriend held for the flapping creature. If she tried hard enough, you're almost sure she could turn it into something eatable.

“But now I need to turn it back before it litters our house in its-”

“Okay, Agatha. I get it”

She shakes her head, watching its frantically drawn out patterns before swiping her finger, causing it to crash into the sofa.

Quickly leaping forward, your girlfriend had reached out, her hands extended and palms flattened as she took an iron fisted hold of it. However, this had also caused her commotion as her body had crashed into your own, her head pressed into your arm and a leg thrown over your thighs.

“You know, if you wanted me to get so close to you, you could've just asked?" You smile slightly, earning yourself a sly eyeroll as she moves to stand, using her thumb to push some hair out of her face before she mumbled some words that seemed to fall flat upon your sense of hearing.

It was a spell of some sort, evident in the way she exposed that of a fly once more - the bird completely gone now.

“I'll need more practice with this spell…” she sighs, narrowing her eyes upon the small and feeble body of her subject, almost as if she were already thinking up some unimaginable storm to perfect her ways of witchcraft.

“Yeah, you do that… and uh, next time, make sure you have control over its whereabouts before you try and change one thing into another?”

“Yeah… maybe”

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 23: Shibari

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) shibari/kinbaku, bdsm/bondage, softdom!Damien because I said so, oral sex (m receiving), a bit of dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, some degradation, cum play, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: As we conclude kinktober 2024, I figured it was only fair to make good on my promise, so here is the Damien shibari fic you have all been waiting for <3

The rope was tight, but the pressure was snug, almost comfortable, as you knelt in the unfamiliar position.

You couldn’t move; your hands were bound behind your back in a manner that ensured they stayed between your calves; legs tied at the ankles, the rope hooking over your knees to keep you kneeling on the bed. Another rope had been box-tied around your chest, framing your breasts with an unyielding weight that, if you breathed too deeply, made you feel trapped—but it wasn’t at all unwelcome.

You had been curious, and Damien had been a willing participant—a keen teacher.

When you’d gotten invested in the concept, the pretty red rope you had glanced at once or twice without buying; looking at the patterns people were tied into; bodies contorting in strange and erotic ways, you bit the bullet.

“Want you to tie me up like—” you had scrolled for a picture, raising your phone to his face. “Like this.”

He swallowed his coffee the wrong way, and turned to cough, spluttering in response to your question.

“Really?” He collected himself, looking at you with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. “I don’t—I mean, yeah, no, I can—are you sure?” He looked amused, but it didn’t hide the excitement in his voice. “I don’t want you to be, like—if the rope makes you uncomfortable…”

“Damien,” you’d purred, wrapping your arms around his neck, whispering against his cheek, “Please.”

He grinned, then, nodding.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Yeah.”

Damien had spent so long on the knots that you’d almost fallen asleep. But the result was too high in quality to go unnoticed.

You felt pretty, bound for him in the surprisingly strong linen rope. The knots made patterns over your body, and his hands brushed over them, watching the texture indent your skin as he admired his handywork.

“Good with your hands.” You closed your eyes, appreciating his touch as he trailed his palms over your sides.

“Don’t I know it.” Damien hummed, tugging at one of the knots to see if it would come undone.

It didn’t. He smiled.

“You feel alright?” He met your gaze, “Not uncomfortable…?”

“I’m…” you searched for the proper words, “Do I look pretty?” You smiled softly, eyes pleading.

“Always,” he grinned, “You’re beautiful.”

“Even tied up like this?” You pressed.

“Especially tied up like this,” he huffed a brief laugh, raking his eyes over your form. He dipped his face down, kissing you gently. “You want me to untie you?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, thinking.

On the one hand, you’d gotten what you wanted; he’d tied you up and showed you how it felt, how it looked to be confined within the thin strands of rope.

You’d never said you wanted it to be sexual.

…You figured it was just implied.

“Hey,” you must’ve made a face, pouted or huffed in a way that caught his attention, because he called your name to snap you back to attention. “I’m gonna untie you, princess.” He smiled, the apples of his cheeks a faded pink.

“No—” You jerked your shoulder back abruptly, and Damien raised his hands in surprise. “I mean—no, I don’t…”

You looked up at him hesitantly, almost embarrassed to be enjoying yourself despite the mutual satisfaction you knew you were both getting out of this.

He leaned forward, cupping your face and rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

“What?” His voice was quiet, but the gentle nature of his tone did nothing to hide his exhilaration. “You wanna stay like this?” He leaned in, brushing his lips to yours as he spoke. “You like being tied up for me?”

You breathed, almost a gasp, at the sudden shift in his approach to you.

It wasn’t as if you were foreign to his ability to switch on a dime, go from smiling and giggly to suddenly domineering; but it was different when your limbs were tied together, and the power imbalance was completely skewed in his favor.

You liked it.   

“Yeah…” You whimpered, hoping a verbal response would be all it took to convince him to press his lips to yours for a real kiss, rather than just the ghost of one.

“So, what should we do?” He smirked, “Can’t fuck you with your legs closed like that. I could untie your ankles…”

“No, don’t—don’t,” you whined, dead set on staying completely restricted. “Just want…kiss me. Please? And…touch me.”

Damien was on you as soon as you finished your sentence, waiting for the moment you told him what you needed so that he could give it to you.

He caught you in a deep kiss, poking his tongue through your lips and swallowing the excited moans that fell from you. You writhed in your constraints, and he grabbed at your skin, avoiding the knots that covered you in favor of the soft flesh beneath it.

He pulled back from your lips, placing his hands on your tits and squeezing sharply. The stimulation made you cry out for him; your skin, sensitive from the way the rope pinched you, was only further overwhelmed by the way he dug his fingers into you, kneading your breasts. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking over the bud and smiling against your skin.

“D—fuck,” you tried to reach up, desperate to touch him while he licked stripes over your chest, but you quickly remembered that the rope completely hindered your ability to do so. “Fuck!”

He scraped his teeth over your nipple before moving to the other one.

“Let me—please, let me—fuck my face.” You were panting, need laced through your body like the rope that wound around you, and you wanted to taste him.

Damien groaned against your chest, nipping the plush skin before raising his face to match your line of sight.

“Yeah?” He kept his hands on you, caressing your sides.

“Yeah…” You whimpered, “Please, Damien.”

“Fuck,” he undid his fly, pulling himself from his boxers. “Come—” he held your shoulders, manipulating your trapped body to lean you forward.

He hesitated.

“Can I…” He looked confused, “Would you feel alright lying on your side? Like—you can stay…you know, but it’s easier to—”

“Do what you want,” you smiled at him, “Anything. Any way.”

He let out a long breath, thrilled by your words. The glint of lust in his eye brightened.

He moved you, carefully, onto your side, letting you acclimate yourself to the position. The rope twisted against your skin, and your thighs ached, but it was a satisfying feeling all the same.

“Gonna be gentle.” He brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“Don’t even think about it.” You smirked, unabashed by your interest in having him wreck you.

Damien grinned. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

“Mm.” You rolled your eyes before looking up at him and opening your mouth.

He hummed, pressing his thumb to your tongue when you stuck it out over your bottom lip.

“What do you say?” He finally gave into the unholy urge, wrapping his other hand around his cock.

“Pl—e,” your soft whimper of was deadened by the thumb he still had pressed to your tongue.

“Good girl,” he praised, removing his hand from your mouth, and stroking your cheek. “Keep your mouth open.”

You did as you were told, letting out a soft gasp when he slapped the head of his cock onto your tongue.

“That’s it.” He swiped the tip over you.

You moved your neck forward, trying to bob your head over his cock, but he grabbed the rope that went around your back and tugged, halting your attempts.

“Be patient, baby,” he muttered, focused on the way your tongue felt on him and the way the rope strained under his hands, “Just a little longer.”

You whined but acquiesced nevertheless; he’d give you what you wanted, you just had to let him draw it out first.

“Open wide.” He finally tired of teasing, pressing his thumb to your jaw and applying minimal pressure to coax your mouth open wider.

He pushed into you with a moan, watching the way you instantly hollowed your cheeks and pressed your lips over his length, trying to take him further.

“Fucking—yeah,” Damien’s eyes fluttered shut momentarily before he forced them back open, eager to watch you. “So fucking pretty. You look so pretty tied up for me like this.”

You looked up at him, aware of but not caring about the drool that puddled near the corner of your lips as you moved over his cock. You whimpered around him as if you were trying to speak, and he pulled back.

“What?” The rise and fall of his chest was so intoxicating from the angle you were in, curled up beneath him. “Too much?”

“More.” You licked your lips, chasing the taste of him.

He groaned, eyes darting over your mouth as you traced your lips with your tongue.

“Christ, alright,” he feigned vexation, tugging again at the rope that fell over your back. “Come on, princess. Open.”

You parted your lips again, and the moment you opened your mouth wide enough, Damien thrusted into you.

You gagged on him, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, but any discomfort was drowned out by the thrill of being used in such a perverted way, in such a sinful position.

“This is what you wanted?” Damien growled above you, one hand fiddling with the knots on your back, the other cupping the back of your head; both were beneficial for leverage, and he used it to his advantage, dragging you over his cock and watching tears prick the corners of your eyes. “When you showed me that picture? Hm? When you asked me to tie you up—this what you had in mind, princess?” His head was tilted towards his shoulder, watching intently as your spit spilled over your chin.

You spluttered, choking on him, and completely unable to do anything about it; your hands were bound, your mouth was full—but even if none of the limitations had applied, you still wouldn’t stop him.

On the contrary, you only ever wanted to encourage his depravity.

“You’re fucking drooling, baby—you’re so fucking desperate,” he was panting, pulling you over his cock at the same pace his hips moved forward. You swallowed around the intrusion, and he whimpered. “You—shit—you’re so—such a slut.”

You couldn’t help but smile around him, happy to be able to pull whiny sounds from him when he was the one who held all the control.

“I can’t—wanna cum down your throat.” Damien’s resolve was breaking, and you stuck your tongue out to swirl over the underside of his cock as he fucked your mouth. “Fuck—” he swallowed a moan.

You did it again, swiping your tongue beneath him with every frenzied thrust of his hips.

“Good girl, keep—just like that…” He had finally given in and let his eyes close, losing himself in the wet warmth of your mouth. “God, I could—where do you want it, baby, huh?” He peeked down at you with lust-blown eyes.

You moaned around his cock, tears finally flowing freely from your eyes when he got deep enough to knock them from your lash line.

“Could cum down your throat,” he reiterated, “Or on your tits, look so fucking nice covered in me.” He weighed your reactions, finally suggesting the option he hoped would be your preferred choice. “On your face—make a fucking mess of your pretty face.” He moaned at his own words, painting a picture of what you’d look like tied up and covered in his cum.

You made a happy noise, humming from the back of your throat in response to his proposal.

He pulled out of you with a grunt, fisting himself.

“Keep your mouth open, princess—close your eyes,” he waited for you to follow his instructions, and when you did, he offered a deep sigh of satisfaction. “Good girl—let me cum on that pretty face. Stick your tongue out, baby.”

Again, you obliged, listening to the wet sound of his hand stroking his cock, coated in your spit.

“F—head up, baby, come on—” he grabbed the back of your head again, “Come on, just like that, princess, just—fuck, fuck, yeah—” He came with a strangled moan of your name, watching as his cum painted your face.

He panted, tilting his head back and swallowing a sigh before looking down at you.

You grinned up at him, smeared with your spit and his cum; tears dried to your cheeks and skin blotchy from all the excitement.

Damien tucked himself back into his jeans, sprawling out on the bed beside you.

“Okay?” He searched your face.

“More than.” You reassured, trying to inch yourself closer to him.

“Happy?” He threw you a lopsided grin, trailing a finger through his spend on your cheek and pressing it to your lips.

You opened, sucking his cum off of his finger.

“Very.” you released the digit with a pop.

He stared at you, tracing your features with his eyes and taking in how wrecked you looked.

“Take a picture, Dames,” you smirked, “It’ll last longer.”

“I could just leave you tied up like this, you know.” He laughed.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You goaded him.

“Uh-huh—so would you,” he quirked a brow, looking at you knowingly. He sat up, tracing the rope that bound you with his fingers as he began to look for the loosest knot. “Let me untie you, baby.”

You nodded, letting him get to work on undoing the bindings.

“I liked it,” you muttered, “I liked it a lot.”

“I know,” Damien laughed, finally pulling at a knot just right to make it come undone. “But I can’t do much with you in this position.”

“You planning on doing something?” You tilted your head to catch his gaze, smirking.

“Much.” He reiterated with a smile, “But I need to get your legs loose enough to spread them, first.”

[primsheep]

Hell yeah lore for my outer wilds owlk <33 their name is the druid

I wrote so much I may cut this down a bit later but that’s the general idea😭

Copy-pasted text below ⬇️

An inhabitant aboard the stranger. The druid was never quite at ease living in the stranger's artificial biome. But tending to the trees always gave them a sense of peace. The prospect of gaining new knowledge from the eye of the universe excited them greatly. Eventually, when their kind learned of the eye's true nature, they along with the others felt betrayed. The sacrifices of they made was all in vain thanks to a pointless goal, a goal they looked forward to so much. They were left aimless

Unlike the others, they didn't like the idea of the simulated world. It wasn't quite right, how you can defy time and death inside it, it was unnatural, it unsettled them. Upon the project's completion they refused to join, instead choosing to leave for the nearby solar system. They would rather let their curiosity move them forward than spend the rest of their days confined by fear, stagnant, never accomplishing anything. Their spacecraft landed on what will become timber hearth. The planet's surface was barren in their time, so they settled down and set their sights to introduce early plant life with tree samples taken from the stranger. Though it may not be some grand venture, they hoped they could at least do a little good to atone for their kind's mistakes. After all the fear and uncertainty, this was enough. Alone, but finally they have time to think, to grieve. They are long dead, but their deeds influence spread far, and indirectly helped the early hearthians develop to the space-faring species they are now