#I just. couldn’t get myself to be interested in doing anything they wanted to do

[cthulhus-curse]

The Lion & The Lamb

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,229

Warnings: Fuckboy!Wanda, Breeding, Collars, Daddy Kink, Eventual Fluff, Face Slapping, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Leashes, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: After a chance encounter with your first girlfriend, Wanda feels the need to stake claim over what is rightfully hers.

“So, I was thinking we could go see a movie after finals.”

There was a hopeful tone in your voice as you spoke. It was, as always, seemingly ignored. Normally you’d appear crestfallen, but after having spent months in such a manner, you simply shrugged.

“Oh, uh, sure,” came the bored reply. “Whatever you want, babe.”

“Maybe I could even go to one of your soccer games?” you asked, knowing what the answer would entail.

“If you’d like to, sure.”

You sighed before focusing on your food once again. It was partly your fault, you admitted. Towards the start of your junior year at university, you had gotten involved with your roommate who you spent the first two years crushing over. While it was not an ideal situation that you were in, only being able to involve yourself in sexual endeavors with the woman, it was more than you would have hoped.

Wanda was known to never fully commit. You were sure she had slept with most, if not all, of her soccer team at one point. She could do what she wanted and the two of you had been clear as to what your relationship entailed, but you couldn’t help the hint of jealousy that came out at the thought of others being so close with your friend.

She only eyed her phone as you studied her – the way in which she wore her snapback backwards, her shirt with the sleeves rolled up past her shoulders, which showed off her toned, muscular arms, and gray sweats along with Vans shoes made you drool. The two of you had chosen to spend time before finals, the calm before the storm, stuffing your faces at a local restaurant – you remembered it was Wanda’s favorite, but she did not even notice. It filled you with disdain to know she could hold you in her arms and make you feel the greatest pleasures in life, but not even bat an eye when it came to a more interpersonal relationship, whether platonic or not.

As you bit your bottom lip as a means to keep yourself grounded, the waitress finally came to your table.

“Hi! My name is Natasha and I will be taking care of you two ladies today. Can I get you guys started with any drinks?” came a voice that you recognized so well.

Turning around, your eyes widened. You were met with a sight you had not seen in years. There stood a redhead with a notepad, smiling at Wanda before turning to you. In a manner that made your heart soar, she only beamed wider when noticing your appearance.

“Y/N?” she questioned with bewilderment. “It’s been so long!”

“Hey, Nat,” you greeted while sitting up straight. “Holy shit, it’s been years! How are you? Nice haircut by the way.”

“Thank you! I’m alright though, just working my way through life until I save up enough to move to California,” Natasha chuckled – you vividly remembered how, during the time in which the two of you had been together, she always dreamed of escaping the cold claws of the east coast and moving to a much warmer atmosphere. “And how are you? You look amazing, detka.”

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed how Wanda visibly tensed at the pet name. She would call you that from time to time while writhing on top of you. Nobody had ever referred to you in that manner from her knowledge. If anything, she never appeared interested in knowing about your past relationships or really anything to do with your personal life.

“I’m doing well. I got finals in a few weeks and I am trying to treat myself before potentially getting a brain aneurysm from all the studying.”

The two of you shared a laugh. It felt as if no time had passed since you were high school students kissing under the bleachers of the football field, away from prying eyes. Natasha had been your first love; it nearly broke your heart when your relationship only turned to shambles as you went off to college and she remained in the work-force. It was not the same when you couldn’t see one another at all times. Still, you found yourself missing her while staring into deep green eyes that never failed to hypnotize you – in that moment, it felt as though there was nobody else but the two of you, although the gnawing image of Wanda still appeared in your brain.

“I’m Wanda, by the way,” came the dirty blonde’s voice through gritted teeth from the other side of the table. “Nice to meet you.”

You recognized the condescending look which she threw at Natasha, one that was typically reserved for the idiotic professors who she almost always clashed with. There was a hesitant wave thrown your ex’s way – a bit too much if you said so yourself.

“Oh, likewise,” Natasha simply replied before turning back to you. “Are you two…?”

“Nope. We’re just friends and roommates,” you quoted Wanda’s words whenever someone asked the same question.

It was strange to watch Wanda’s behavior. You swore her fingernails dug into the table as she kept herself from commenting. Her mouth formed a straight line as she practically stared daggers at Natasha.

“Y/N and I used to date back in high school,” Natasha commented as she let her eyes gaze over Wanda before returning them to you. “Here, I’ll give you my number. We really should catch up and go for a coffee or something. I’d like to know more about how you’re doing.”

After she was finished scribbling away in her notepad, Natasha tore the piece of paper and handed it to you. There was a heart beside the ten digits which warmed your own. You assumed that if Wanda wanted nothing to do with you, perhaps the previous love between you and your ex could be lit up once again.

With a satisfied smirk, Natasha spoke again.

“Now, what can I get you for drinks?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

The remainder of lunch had been spent in a wave of awkward silence between you and Wanda. She only questioned you about Natasha twice, asking how long the two of you had been together and what your feelings for her were currently – all you did was respond with ‘I don’t know’ to the latter.

Once you were done and ready to split the food, Wanda stopped you. She paid for everything, even if it was rather expensive given the status of the restaurant. The sly smirk along with the head tilt she gave Natasha as she came over to pick up the check became ingrained in your brain.

There was even more silence that followed on your way to your shared dorm. It surprised you to feel Wanda’s hand over your own suddenly. She held it tight as the two of you walked around town en route to the campus. Rather than take notice of your questioning gaze, the woman simply held her head up and carried on.

When you had finally arrived at your dorm, ignoring the questioning gazes from the others who noticed your interlaced hands, Wanda urged you inside. She locked the door behind her, taking off her snap-back before throwing it to the side not caring where it landed.

“Take off your clothes, baby,” Wanda ordered softly. “Go get your collar and leash, okay?”

You recognized that exhausted tone, only did not know where it had stemmed from. Still, you were not about to question Wanda’s actions. Even if the dorm room was small, you still made your way to your side while simultaneously tugging at your shirt, all while searching for the required items.

From behind, you failed to notice Wanda mirroring your actions. She carefully pulled at her clothes, letting them fall over the floor before her bed, which she kneeled by. Her hands went under it, dragging a box that lay beneath out of the dark. When opening it, she smiled – once and for all, Wanda would let herself own only you and nobody else.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said with slight giddiness, smiling at the way the pink faux-leather collar squeezed your neck while the similarly-colored leash fell down your body.

“Crawl to me, Y/N,” Wanda said. “Come here.”

When you got down on your hands and knees, you took in her appearance. She was sitting over the edge of her bed still yanking at the harness over her hips with a dildo standing proudly. You could tell it was the special one she only used several times on you, causing your heart to nearly skip a beat. As you took in the naked beauty who then went to pull her hair into a messy bun, you were frozen in place.

“Don’t make daddy repeat herself,” she announced with a much more dangerous tone. “I need my obedient girl today.”

Before you began moving, you nodded. There was no hesitation that came out as you crawled towards your roommate, a serious look over your face as you attempted to study her. She was clearly upset. That along with her silent hostility towards Natasha at the restaurant made you wonder if she was truly jealous as you suspected.

“You know you’re mine, right?” Wanda asked, her voice seemingly small as you kneeled before you. “You can answer, angel.”

“I know, daddy.”

A hand went to your cheek, softly cupping it. Wanda let her thumb graze around your flushed skin, smiling as you shyly attempted to hide yourself. As much as you loved the unabashed roughness she tended to show at times, such tender acts filled you with joy.

Wanda tugged at the leash, forcing you towards her as she took your lips with her own in a searing kiss. It was rough, somehow different from any other she had planted over your mouth. Ever since having seen Natasha, her emotions had been heightened.

“You’re daddy’s pretty toy. I don’t want anyone else to have you, ever,” she explained as she took small breaks from your making-out session. “And I never want anyone else. I just…I need you.”

“I’m here, daddy,” you replied. There were tears nearly forming at the words she spoke. Even if you were unsure whether she meant them or not, they made your heart swell. All you ever wanted since first meeting Wanda was to be hers – her only toy. “Tell me what I can do to please you.”

One last kiss was placed over your mouth, firmly planted as Wanda lingered there for a few seconds. She let your foreheads pressed together while listening to your mirrored ragged breaths. Never had you been through such intimacy with her.

“Come lay down, princess. Let me use you for a bit,” Wanda announced as she leaned back. She grabbed your hands and helped you up, smiling as you carefully went towards the bed. “Daddy’s going to fill you up with cum until you’re a crying mess okay? I need to make you mine and ruin you for anyone else.”

“Yes, daddy,” you giddily replied, beaming at the idea of potentially being Wanda’s.

Wanda shifted over the bed, her eyes roaming all over your body. She put her hands over your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart. At the sight of your already drenched cunt, she hummed approvingly.

She moved closer to you, letting the creamy dildo side against you. It was grabbed carefully as she did not want to set off the fake cum by squeezing hard. The tip swirled against your slit, garnering large amounts of your juices over it. While you were wet, it was not enough to keep you from being hurt by the roughness she wished to exert.

“Be right back,” Wanda uttered before moving away.

It felt like a lifetime went by before she came back from kneeling over the floor. In her wake, she carried a bottle of lubricant. When she finally settled between your legs once again, you felt at peace. Drops of the lube were squired over the silicone cock before Wanda’s free hand went to spread it across the length. It wasn’t until it glistened with the liquid that she threw the bottle to the other side of the bed.

Wanda gripped the dildo again before letting it touch your entrance. Rather than swirl it all across letting you grow used to such a feeling, she began easing herself in. There was slight caution to her movements only to be replaced quickly by her trademark self.

Her cock spread your pussy apart. Velvety walls moved to welcome the large toy before wrapping themselves around it. Even after having had it used on you various times throughout the semester, you still moaned loudly whenever Wanda filled you up.

“God, you’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows. She pushed her hips forth before you were able to reply, only yelping loudly instead. “If you wanted me to make you mine, all you had to do was ask. Not whore yourself out for someone else. So stupid.”

All you could do was lay there, taking each thrust with the utmost joy. A hand went to tug at your leash, bringing your face forth while simultaneously choking you. Wanda’s eyes were dark and similar in appearance to those which had begrudgingly stared at Natasha throughout lunch. With her face dangerously close, a free hand went to cup your cheek.

“Tell me who owns you,” Wanda roared. She brought her hand down over your cheek, slapping it with might as you hissed in return. Those little sounds never ceased to make her smile. “Who’s the only one that can fuck you this well? Who owns your pussy?”

“It’s you, daddy!” came your cry as she hit your face again, holding the leash steadily in order to keep you from squirming away. “You own every inch of me. I promise you I am nobody else’s.”

“That’s a good answer,” Wanda whispered. She gave you one last slap for good measure, only it was softer. “Now open your mouth.”

When you gave into temptation, Wanda soon hovered her mouth above your own. She spit at you, grunting as she drove the toy deeper into your cunt with force.

“You’re such a good whore, Y/N. Just look at how well you take daddy’s cock. Your pretty pussy is practically begging to be fucked, eh?”

You didn’t trust yourself speaking, so instead you were sure to nod with vigor. Your hips began grinding against the dildo in an attempt to get off quickly. With your arousal at its peak, it would not be long until you turned into a mess in Wanda’s arms.

With closed eyes, you held into Wanda for support. Your hands landed over her bare upper arms, squeezing them and groaning. She flexed them slightly, forcing you to open your orbs and stare at the sight before you. Her muscles were clearly visible — you always did love when she used all her strength to pick you up and throw you over the bed before ravaging you.

“Awww baby, you’re adorable,” Wanda laughed as she sat back. Still holding the leash, she brought her other hand down your body, letting it ghost over your lower stomach where a small bulge appeared whenever she pushed the dildo into your depths. “What a stupid cock whore you are. I bet Natasha couldn’t ever make you feel this way, eh, detka? You’re my loyal little bitch.”

“Mhm daddy,” you breathed as her fingers pressed against your body.

Wanda dug her cock as deep as she could, giggling at the much larger bulge shown. The palm of her hand held it down, making you scream out in a midst of immense pleasure.

“You’re close, aren’t you? You’ll soon be daddy’s breeding bitch.”

At that, you nodded with tears already forming in your eyes at your overwhelming arousal. Still pressing down on your body while simultaneously tugging at the leash, Wanda tilted her head. You were the most adorable toy she had seen — always ready to please her whenever and however she wished.

“Come for daddy, baby girl. All over my cock, okay?”

“Yes, daddy,” you murmured, letting your head fall back, enjoying how the collar choked you, as you fell apart.

Dismay took over your being as Wanda removed the toy from your pussy as you moaned through your orgasm. The leash had been left over your naked body as well which visibly made you pout. It was only made better as a hand went to keep your thighs open while the other squeezed the dildo with might.

It wasn’t long until a squirt of fake cum shot through your cunt, filling you up slowly. The white substance was thick as it quickly poured into you. Wanda always loved stuffing the toy with all the could as a means to please you further.

Once you were all nice and full, the woman’s cock slid back inside. It was held there frozen in place as you recovered from your orgasm, your chest still heaving up and down as your body shook.

“I’ll help get you cleaned up in a second, detka,” Wanda mumbled as she leaned down. She pressed her forehead against your own in a manner that was unheard of from such a self-proclaimed cold-hearted person. She sighed, closing her eyes before breathing in the stench of sex that filled the dorm. “You did so well. Thank you for always trusting me enough to touch you like this.”

“And thank you for always being so good to me,” you replied with a tired smile, frowning as Wanda only shook her head in retort.

“I just…I’m sorry. I’ve been really shitty ever since we started doing this. It’s just sex like we both agreed to and, yeah, you know it’s been going on with others for me, but I don’t want that anymore,” Wanda admitted with apparent embarrassment at having to showcase such emotions that were seemingly alien to her. “So, do you want to be my girlfriend? Like, actually I mean. I don’t want anyone else to be honest. Just you, Y/N.”

You remained silent, your eyes wide as you heard the words that spilled from your friend’s mouth. All which you had dreamed of ever since setting your eyes on the blonde woman was becoming reality.

“Fuck, I know I’m an idiot. I can’t expect you to say yes after I’ve spent all these years fucking around literally,” Wanda said with a mix of guilt and disgust at her behavior, especially since all she had ever wanted was you. “Seeing firsthand that someone else can potentially have you too makes my blood boil. You’re my detka, nobody else’s. You can take some time to think about it too. I want you to be o-”

You did not hesitate to squeeze her arms, groaning at their muscular appearance, before pulling her close. Lips interlocked for what you knew would be a core memory throughout your life. You held her close, afraid that if for a moment you were to let go, Wanda would be gone as soon as she came.

“I would love that so much,” you admitted when pulling away to grasp for air while leaving your foreheads touching. “I really want to be yours, Wanda. Always.”

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 1, 2021 4:15 p.m. grant's house

[juhani] hello? grant, can i call you tomorrow? it’s late.

[grant] no, you can’t. i know it’s 11 o’clock where you are right now, and i don’t really care. you answered, so you’ve trapped yourself.

[varpu, faintly] juha, if you don’t talk now, he will never call you back.

[juhani] i want to speak with you, of course i do, it’s just–

[grant] fantastic, because that’s what we’re doing. we’re talking! i have 30 years of stuff to get off my chest, and i'm sure you have your own piece to share. not sure where to start, but.

[juhani] may i ask you a question? what did you overhear at dinner the other night? are you upset i'm moving? is that it?

[grant] i mean, that stung a little after the whole “i’ll be around to build a relationship with you,” thing, but i gave you my express permission to go home, so it’s whatever. we are both adults, so i am not going to fault you for making adult decisions that improve your life. i'm more upset by you claiming you didn’t tell me about your plans or include me in the moving and wedding stuff and whatever because i'm difficult.

[juhani] that’s not what–

[grant] oh, come on. don’t kid yourself. you said it yourself, anything involving me is like pulling teeth. i heard it loud and clear.

[juhani] well, when i tell you things, you never react well. it always goes precisely like this conversation is going.

[grant] really? never? because i remember being pretty positive about your proposal and about you contacting me in the first place and about coming to dinner to acquaint myself with varpu’s kids and about meeting varpu a while back…

[grant] what i react poorly to is you leaving me out, you calling me difficult, you complaining about me in front of impressionable people, etcetera.

[juhani] i don’t want to leave you out.

[grant] that’s what varpu said, too, but i didn’t believe her, so why would i believe you?

[juhani] i have no idea how to interact with you. i've apologized to you, told you i regret the events of your childhood. nothing works.

[grant] do you regret it? because it kind of just feels like you’re doing the same shit again. abandoning me for your own self-interests. oh, and this time you’re replacing me with a brand new family you treat better.

[juhani] i'm not repl–okay, what would you prefer me do when you push me away? you told me i was difficult.

[grant] when did i say that? i mean, that's true, sure, but i would not say that to you. what i probably said that you’re misconstruing is that talking to you is hard because i'm not comfortable around you.

[juhani] and how long will it take you to be comfortable around me? i don’t know what else you want me to do. truly, i don’t, and it is not pleasant to be rejected endlessly.

[grant] well, i'd have to forgive you, but i don’t. if forgiveness was meant to happen, it would not be instant. you’d have to keep trying with me, even if i piss you off, even if i push you away. you’re my fucking father, it’s your job. you show up for your kid even if they’re horrible or annoying. you never turn your back on them. but, you know, you didn’t show up for the first 22 years you were around, so you’d have to try extra hard now to change my mind.

[grant] but honestly, i will never be comfortable around you. i've realized that over the last few days. i did actually think if you just kept trying, i'd relax and be less on edge, but nope. you could become an honest-to-god saint tomorrow, and i'll still be furious because nothing will make me understand why you couldn’t have been a decent person when i was a kid. like, when i needed you.

[grant] and i don’t get why you weren't. i don't. i'm serious. i can’t comprehend it. clearly, you have it in you to be a decent person. you love varpu's kids. you're fatherly towards them. you take them on vacation, you invite them to house and wedding venue tours, you tell them about and include them in your hobbies, you remember details about them, you smile at them without being forced, you go to their weddings and don’t flip out about them being queer even though you were viscerally disgusted with me when you found out–

[juhani] you shouldn’t bring them into this. it isn’t fair. and i've taken you on vacation before, for one.

[grant] i am being petty, but i think it's fair because i'm not shitting on them specifically. and yeah, okay, you took me on vacation once. you took me to finland exactly once, but i never met your family, and i remember nothing other than the plane rides.

[grant] and you shouldn’t do this. we don’t need to split hairs. you don’t need to crawl through that list of grievances and “well, actually” me as many times as you can manage. one vacation changes nothing. that does not erase all the times you sat there like a lame duck and ignored me or mocked me or let my mother abuse me. there is nothing for you to pat yourself on the back about.

[grant] nothing.

[juhani] so, what are you upset about now?

[grant] why?

[juhani] why what?

[grant] why are you like this? why were you a terrible father? why have no heart for me or my sisters? why did you save all your love for someone else’s kids?

[grant] oh, and how about cerise? you sure didn’t care about your bastard kids either, did you?

[grant] shit. i'm sorry. that just kind of came out. that’s not how i wanted to, you know, pepper that into this conversation. i was going to save that for the end.

[juhani] how do you know about her?

[grant] doesn't matter. it's a long story.

[grant] on that note, what is up with the secret daughter? how’d that happen? is she the only one, too, or should i be on the lookout for any other siblings? and hey, you only divorced my mother in the last few years, so you were cheating. how many times did you fuck around on her, and why would you? you wouldn’t divorce her because you were afraid of her, but apparently it's no big deal to cheat.

[juhani] grant, how can i answer you if you don't allow me to talk? cerise’s mother michelle is a doctor. your mother and i were both at a conference in detroit about healthcare outreach, and…

[juhani] i know it seems contradictory, given how long i stayed with your mother, but i was unhappy in the marriage. i met michelle there at the conference, and she was kind and intelligent, and i suppose the rest of the story should be obvious to you.

[grant] goddamn, man. i hate my mother, but that’s bold: sleeping with another woman right in front of her face.

[grant] did she ever find out?

[juhani] eventually. you remember how she was with the finances. she tracked all the money going in and out of the household. you couldn’t have one cent go missing without being accused of something, and she’d always blame it on some incident with her brother and start ranting about him.

[juhani] look, the agreement with michelle was that i'd stay out of her life and send child support, and she wouldn’t interfere with my family either. i used to lie and tell your mother the child support funds were going somewhere important, but she didn't believe me very long. she did finally question me and find out the truth.

[grant] and?

[juhani] in hindsight, her reaction reminds me a lot of the one she had when you lashed out at her during your graduation dinner. very little left her speechless, but that did. initially, i should clarify. she would go on to never let me live cerise’s existence down.

[juhani] and to answer your question, as far as i know, cerise is the only other child.

[grant] as far as you know?

[juhani] i cannot rule out further surprises.

[grant] jesus christ. my grandmother is right, all men are dogs, but you most of all.

[juhani] does it upset you that much?

[grant] again, i don’t like my mother, but if i needed any more proof that you’re more spineless than a sea sponge, this is it. you were so unhappy with my mother that you’d cheat on her, but you’d not divorce her when your kids were vulnerable.

[grant] you disgust me. you slept around and thought with your dick before you spared a single thought for the kids you let my mother abuse. or for yourself! fuck you. if you’re going to be that selfish, at least be selfish enough to prioritize yourself and leave the woman making you that miserable!

[grant] and now i don’t believe you when you say you wouldn’t leave her back then because you were scared of her. do you seriously mean to tell me it’s less terrifying to cheat on her than to just walk out of the house and never come back?

[grant] i did that, you know? when i'd had enough of my mother, i told her as much and then never spoke to her again. and guess what? wouldn’t you be so stunned to find out she’s never tracked me down, never tried to call or email to reel me back in? she left me alone after i told her to go fuck herself!

[grant] and technically, you know it's possible to leave her, too. what did you say about the divorce? that she just rolled over and let you do it and was fine with you just coughing up all the assets and dipping?

[grant] exhibits A, B, and C that she’s a coward, too. she thinks she’s the boss, but if you fight back hard enough, she gives up. you could have left her at any point in time.

[grant] god. oh my god. you stupid, spineless motherfucker. i thought i'd maxed out on anger. apparently not!

[grant] you really could have been a better father. you could have had your whole little life overhaul decades ago, and you could have saved the entire family so much pain. you, me, elizabeth, kelly…

[grant] i should have suspected as much, and i guess i did, but it's shocking to realize over and over just how useless you are as a father. i think it can't get any worse and then it does. you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.

[grant] this is why i can’t forgive you. you didn’t have to mess up so badly. but no. whatever you got out of the relationship was enough to convince you to sit there and watch my mother ruin all of us, and even thought you weren't happy with her, you got by with fucking other women and only regretted staying a billion years later when you noticed you had nothing of substance left in life but my mother. and that’s a pretty depressing way to live, isn’t it?

[juhani] i stayed because i thought we deserved each other.

[grant] with that attitude, maybe you did.

[grant] listen, i'll admit this, no problem. it’s no one’s fault that she is the way that she is. it’s not even yours. she’s abusive, and what she does to other people is her fault and her responsibility. she’s excellent, too, at convincing you to just go along with it and never question her. it's not that hard to get caught in her trap at first, and she will try her very best to break you. but at some point, you have to question anyway. at some point, you have to recognize you deserve better and do something about it.

[grant] but you didn’t. not until it was too late for it to mean anything.

[grant] i would never think i've done everything right, but in the end, i've respected myself enough to make better choices and do something about the situation i was in, and i've had to do that because the adults in my life weren’t responsible or organized enough to fix things before responsibility fell into my hands.

[juhani] you are a braver and a better man than i.

[grant] i'm glad i am, but do you know how exhausting it is to be brave all the time?

[grant] i am because you weren’t. it is entirely because you failed. you weren’t brave enough to give a fuck about yourself or your kids, so i've had to be brave my entire life. brave enough to survive my childhood, then brave enough to leave. and guess what? i don’t want to be brave. i just want to exist. and back then, i just wanted to be a kid.

[grant] just a kid.

[grant] i wanted to come home from school and play with my pokemon cards and hear my mom and my dad say, “hi honey! how was your day? we love you!" i didn’t want to live in fear of what horror would befall me each and every day.

[grant] fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. you stole my childhood. you stole elizabeth’s childhood. you stole kelly’s childhood.

[grant] you and my mother, but you could have done something. you could have given us our childhoods back. you could have done something! you should have done something!

[grant] you didn’t have to do everything right even. parents mess up, i know that, but you could have at least tried. the bar was on the floor. i would have over the moon living in a single parent household with a father who at least showed up to my hockey games if he wasn’t busy at work and gave me a hug every once in a while.

[grant] and you know what, you did more than steal our childhoods. because you couldn’t stand to sacrifice your comfort long enough to take care of your kids, we all have to live in permanent hell. i have to spend the rest of my life freaking out when someone walks up behind me or speaks too loudly or–god forbid–touches me! it took me years to finally learn not to flinch when someone high fives me! and kelly–i don’t know what she deals with, but i know her life can’t be peaceful.

[grant] again, i am not blaming you for what my mother did–i know she was not kind to you either– but i do blame you for not even trying to stop her or get away from her. you were an adult with power, and you didn't use an ounce of it. actually, you did use it, just not for good. you threw me specifically under the bus because it was easier to let my mother use me as a punching bag than you.

[juhani] you’re right.

[juhani] you’re right, grant.

[grant] i have nothing else to say, short of "fuck you" again. i think i'm done yelling at you.

[grant] no, wait, one last thing. what did you even see in my mother in the first place? what was so enticing about her that you’d stay with her so long and ditch your college sweetheart for her?

[juhani] i don’t know. i don’t know anymore.

[grant] i guess it was two people drawn to each other's misery.

[grant] great. well, that’s all, folks.

[grant] good luck with the new family. maybe you can make it right with someone else and enjoy a totally fresh start because you will never make it right with me, and i will never let you forget what you did to me and my sisters. and don’t lose varpu again, by the way. she is, like, far out of your league–so far it's not even funny–and you are lucky to have this second chance with her and to have a good relationship with her kids.

[grant] also, just so it's clear, i don't want to speak to you anymore after this. don't call me, i won't call you either, except in one circumstance. i'll consider it on the day my mother kicks the bucket. we can toast to the end of that chapter of our lives and hope that the haunting ends. because surely you have to feel a little haunted, too, right? i have a sinking suspicion that’s why you reconnected with me. you don’t care about me. you care about that fresh start, about making yourself feel better about wasting your life and fucking up everyone around you.

[seilon]

man im really fucking bad at hanging out with people no wonder i have like two friends

[iamthetruestrepairman]

I have the autistic collector / wants stuff impulse but I’m so scared of people knowing my interests that I never even use my “for fun stuff” money to buy anything. I’ve never bought anything related to anything i enjoy ever and it gnaws at me a little

[jackleopard]

I went to a school to test some kids today for my thesis and the teacher who received me and talked to me while we waited for the headmaster was the nicest person 💕💕💕

[ghostickle]

.

[halfricanloveyou]

ok so i watched the new superman show. thought it was just okay romance wise, nothing very exceptional. the animation was weak in a few areas, i think they should have just gone all out and animated it like an anime, like in the myx episode. loved that battle sequence too!! the rest of the animations with the fight scenes were kind of clunky imo.

character wise i think they’re all pretty predictable and fall into the same boring stereotypes. tenacious and ambitious/spunky ‘tomboy,’ goofy comedic relief third wheel black friend, OP main character who’s main trait is being both responsible for all conflict and saving people from said conflict…yeah. it’s literally danny phantom but instead of being ‘sassy’ clark kent just has anxiety.

HOWEVER…taking into account the episode with the loving and kind gay gorilla and his robot-body-but-human-brain-scientist-husband, clark kent being quite possibly the most peggable fictional character to exist, casually depicting lesbian moms, and most importantly being very obviously and overtly anti US government means i objectively have to give it a 10/10 and say it’s the best tv show i’ve ever seen in my life.

also…it’s definitely a kids show (like probably ages 10+) and i can only assume it’s on adult swim because the people at cartoon network are fucking cowards. let cool stuff back on prime time air and stop shoving it all to after hours!!! sometimes midnight is too damn late!

[luvyeni]

COMPUTER FREAK 𝕼. ( 제이크 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 제이크 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. loser!jake. reader is a coder but not much of coding is talked about. handjobs. unprotected sex. sub!jake. word count. 4.1k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … this couldn’t be happening right now; he had to be stuck in some fucked up nightmare. there’s no way his computer did this — not while he was doing that.

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i don’t write sub often but when i do it’s like i go a bit crazy 😗… enjoy!

jake really had it all; he was smart, he passed every test he took. he was handsome, many girls would love to be with him; not like they had a chance though. he wasn’t interested in them. he was interested in you, the computer savvy girl who moved into the apartment he shared along with heeseung, jay sunghoon about a year ago.

but jake was terrible at talking to girls; especially you. he’s never been around a girl who’s both nerdy like him, but also fucking hot as you. when you first moved into the apartment he did his best to avoid you, knowing he’d never be able to hold a full conversation with you — but then he felt bad , because you were extremely nice to him , you even made him cookies to show your appreciation… you were even a good fucking baker, was their anything you couldn’t do.

“yn you have to put on some shorts.” jay said as you sat down. “i have shorts on.” you lifted up the shirt , they all averted their eyes. “be for real , you people are the last guys i’d ever flash.” you sat down. “i’ve smelt what that damn bathroom smells like after one of you's been in there.” you grimaced , pushing your glasses up on your face. “ you fixed the wifi?” heeseung asked. “you mean plug it back in? yes and if you call me at 12 in the morning to do it again im going wash my pink thong with all your white clothes.”

“he’d like that i think , he’d get to touch your panties.” sunghoon teased and you rolled your eyes. “no you know who would like it.” heeseung smirked pointing past you; which made you turn around. “good morning jake.” you smiled. “go-good morning yn.” he sat down. “go-good morning yn.” heeseung teased him , he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “now that the family is all together time for our morning meeting.” jay said. “you mean jays nagging time.” everyone laughed at your joke. “im gonna put you on the streets yn.”

“i pay my fair share of utilities; so no you can’t kick me out.” you smiled. “well then i’ll rent your room out , good luck with a new roommate.” you shrugged. “i’ll just share a room with jake, you don’t mind jake?” you turned to him. “hu-huh?” he stuttered. “we-well i mean.” he stressed to find the right words. “you say that now until you find a hard sock in the closet you’ll be sharing.” him and sunghoon snickered. “shut up.” the boy said softly from beside you. “heeseung you proudly show your fleshlight on the night stand?” you said. “it’s my room isn’t it.” your nose scrunched up in disgust. “you’re a pervert.”

“i am man yn , men do men things.” he shot back. “you’re hardly a man.” you stood up. “how about i follow you back to your room and show you how much of a man i am.” you pushed your glasses up , fake gagging. “i respect myself , no thank you.” you walked back to your room. “she knows she wants me.” the guys at the table shook their heads. “does she really?”

jake stood up , putting his cereal bowl in the sink. “i have to go to work,” he said. “do you have to work late today? i have a package being delivered and I need someone to be here and sign it.” sunghoon said. “yn doesn’t work today , she’ll be here.” sunghoon sighed. “she was here last time they came but she was too busy coding to pay attention.” he rolled his eyes. “she’s a coder , that’s her job.” heeseung said , he was another coder , just as passionate as you. “you can’t just pull away from it to open a door.”

“especially if just porn , i opened the box , that’s disgusting.” jake didn’t even entertain his friends , ready to leave. “she was trying make a code for a sims mod she wanted , it wasn’t that important and stop opening my damn mail.” jake spoke up. “i’ll be home.” and with that he was out the door.

his work day was exhausting; he just wanted to go home and sleep. he opened the door; kicked off his shoes at the front , stopping to get water from the fridge , before making his way to his room. “sunghoon is that you?” he heard your door open , sticking your head out. “oh hi jake.” you stepped out of your room , you were dressed in the same shorts from this morning— but instead of a long shirt , you have a cropped tank top on. he had to fight himself to not look at your boobs , but it was hard when they were so full and plump and he just wanted to lay his head on them , touch them… fuck them. “jake?” you waved your hands in front of his face. “h-huh?”

you chuckled; your boobs slightly bouncing. fuck , you didn’t have a bra on. “i asked how was work? did you eat?” he coughed awkwardly, his softened cock stirring in his pants. “o-oh yeah , i had some ramen.” he said. “you need to start eating more healthy , those ramens aren’t good for you.” you grabbed his shoulder. “if you want i can make you lunch to take , heeseung pays me to do it , but you don’t annoy me half as much , so it’s no need.” he nodded. “th-thank you.” he stuttered out , desperate to get to his room , not to sleep anymore , but for other reasons. “okay , it will be in the fridge with heeseungs in the morning.” you turned to go back into your room. “and if sunghoon comes , tell him the package did come and i got but im holding it hostage until he gives me the 100 bucks he owes me for hacking into his instagram account because his dumbass forgot his password.” he nodded and you closed your door.

he basically sprinted to his room; locking the door behind him. “fuck.” he cursed , his hard cock desperate to be touched. sitting down in his gaming chair , pulling up his screen on his pc , hand already palming his needy cock. “sh-shit.”

here’s where jake might be a pervert; he’s tried so hard to just go to twitter and watch the random porn there — but he just couldn’t , it had to be specific; he’s perfectly curated a playlist full of porn and pornstars… ones that look as close to you as they could , because in his eyes no one could look like you , but they could look similar to you. but not only that , they sounded like you too…

this started a few months ago; he stumbled across a video and he couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the video; the pornstar looked like you. glasses , same build — and tits just as big as yours. not only that , she sorta sounded like you; but he knew it wasn’t you. she didn’t have same cute nose you had; and her voice was just a smidge deeper and of course no one else might’ve noticed , but he did. that was the first night he past out in his chair , covered in cum; his dick sore for the constant tugging of it. he came to that video more times than he liked to admit that night.

he then started a quest of finding videos just like it; saving them to his computer, all of them ranging from pov to cumshots; professional to amateur, hell he even had solo and couple porns , but they all had a common denominator — they resembled or sounded like you. he was yet to find one of titty fucking yet; but he was looking. “mmh , which one.” he groaned , clicking his favorite , cock now free from his underwear , slowly stroking it as he went through the playlist. “let’s do a real old one.” he clicked the video , sitting back in his chair.

the video is only 1 minute and nine seconds long; but it’s the perfect video — the closest he was ever to getting a direct look like of you; the glasses were identical , everything was… including the boobs. “oh fuck.” he began stroking his cock , just as the model began stroking the cock of her partner. it was a pov , his favorite. because then he could imagine it was him , and you were stroking his cock for real. “oh fuck that feels good.” he moaned.

he bit his lip to cover a moan; he couldn’t risk you hearing him or anybody in the house for that matter because then they’d never let him live it down. he began to speed up, the video replaying over and over as he hunched over in his chair , so close to a desperate relief. he watch the guy cum all over the girls glasses , which he dreamt of doing to you on numerous of occasions; your pretty smile as he covered you in ropes of cum. “fuck yn im gonna cum.” he moaned — then his computer stopped.

his hand immediately stopped; hissing as he ruined his own orgasm. “what the fuck?” he said , hitting the side of the screen; he knew it would do nothing but he still gave it a try. then he realized his worst nightmare has come true; his screen froze, with the porn still on it. this couldn’t be happening right now; he had to be stuck in some fucked up nightmare. there’s no way his computer did this — not while he was doing that.

he quickly unplugged the computer; waited for a bit — he was desperate; he even blew on the plug in hopes it worked. ”please.” he plugged it back in— and no , the screen was still the same, and on the worst part as well , right when he came on the girls face. he couldn’t believe his screen was stuck on this , what else he couldn’t believe is that he still wanted to finish.

he stuck his head out of his door; praying your door wasn’t open. he almost jumped for joy as saw that it wasn’t, he just had to make it to heeseungs room. he quietly knocked on the door , heeseung emerging right after. “what im on my way out.” he said. “no , wait come here.” jake said. “follow me to my room.” heeseung looked at his friend. “you’re good looking but i am a man who loves pussy.” jake rolled his eyes. “just come.” he pushed the door open. “make sure the door is closed.” he panicked. “what is it?”

“don’t laugh.” he started. “if you laugh i don’t know what i’ll do but it will be very drastic.” he said , heeseung grew tired. “come on, show me i have a hot hook up in about 30 minutes, something you’d know about if you did hide in here on your computer doing god knows what.” jake plugged the computer back in , the frozen screen popping back up into frame. “yo dude , what the fuck?” he exclaimed , jake covered his mouth. “don’t shout i don’t want her to hear.” he pointed to the door. “ew gross.” he pushed the boys hand away. “i clearly see what you do with those hands , never touch me again.”

“please help me.” he said. “it’s stuck and it won’t go away.” he whined. “get rid of it for me.” heeseung sighed walking over to the computer , bending down. “whoa , this looks like yn.” he said. “holy shit , if it wasn’t for the subtle differences i would think this was her…” heeseung trailed off. “is this why you’re watching this , because it looks like her?” heeseung smirked. “bro you’re a freak honestly.” he said turning back to the screen. “but respect.” he shrugged. “do you have any others.”

“is that important? can you get it off?” jake asked , already embarrassed. “no.” the boy stood straight. “this is out of my area of expertise,” he said. “heeseung please try.” the boy begged. “you know who might be able to figure this out.” no please don’t say her. “yn , she just helped jay unfreeze his computer too , his didn’t have porn that looked like her on it , but I’m sure this won’t freak her out that bad.”

he couldn’t possibly ask you; you’d probably stop talking to him. think he’s so weird, he thinks he’s weird. “you do school work on here so you’re gonna need her to do it , just pray she has a sense of humor.” he said walking out the door. “and if you get your computer working , send that to me.”

he dreaded doing this; how could he ask you this? he felt his heart in his ass as he knocked on the door. “yn?” he waited. “come in.” he heard your sweet voice , pushing the door open. “hi jake , what can i do for you?” you turned around in your pink chair , legs crossed in the seat. “um we-well i co-could use your help.” he said. “in what?” you chirped , god he was so sick , even in his time of desperation, he couple only think about sinking his cock in between your plush toys , and fucking them until he covered you in his cum. “it-its with my computer , it’s kinda hard to explained.” he said — and sure it was. “oh okay , let’s go take a look at it.”

you got up from your seat; walking past him and out the room. “it’s probably nothing i can’t fix.” you opened the door to his room. “it smells surprisingly okay in here.” you made your way over to the computer. “okay , now what’s wrong with it?” you said , searching. “oh wait it’s not even plugged in , let– wait not.” it was too late , you had already plugged it in; the dreaded screen popping up , you were face to face with what seemed like your doppelgänger — in such a compromising position. “um okay.” you said.

“yn im so sorry , it’s not what it looks like.” he said. “well what it looks like is me.” you said. “except my boobs are much nicer than those.” his eyes widened , did you really just say that? “she even has my glasses , are my glasses porn star glasses?” you were taking this extremely well. “yo-you’re not upset?” he said , you chuckled. “jake we live in a confined space and see each other every day, honestly i wouldn’t be concerned in the slightest if this wasn’t me but one of the guys.”

“can you fix it?” you laughed, he was confused. “did you ask heeseung?” he nodded. “wh-why are you asking?” you pressed the ctrl key , then the alt key and then finally the del key. “because it’s so simple to fix this.” you said clicking restart. “you didn’t need me , you just asked heeseung on the day he was being a dick.” he was even more embarrassed now. “there’s no need to be embarrassed jakey.” you sat down in his seat. “i told you im not upset about the video.” you said. “are there more?” you said his eyes widened. “i mean come on , this video is too accurate , hell i wouldn’t thought you edited my head on to it but that’s obvious you didn’t , so that means you had to go searching for this.” you said. “and this can’t be the only one jake , i know it.”

“show them to me.” you said. “yo-you want me to show you, for real?” you moved the chair back allowing him to move in front of the computer. “show me.” you watched him intently as he clicked on the keys; he could feel the burn from your stare as you watched him pull up the album with almost 100 photos and videos. “oh?” you scooted closer; so close that if even turned his head , he’d be staring directly down at your chest. “my god , why do i have so many pornstar look alikes?” you said. “so-some of them are the same.” he said. “ah i can see that.”

you scrolled through the videos; he watched you trembling, his cock twitching in his jeans , he never had a proper release. “oh is this the one you were watching when it froze.” you clicked on it. “wait yn.” you waited for the video to load. “he’s not the biggest.” you said , watching the model jerk him off. “y-yn.” he was so fucking hard right now he felt like he was gonna cum in his pants. “this video is too forced.” you paused it. “he’s barely even moaning.” you said , you were now turning facing him. “how do you sound?”

was this happening right now? were you seriously asking this? “u-um.” his hand went to his cock , to cover it. “don’t cover it.” you moved his hands. “im assuming you didn’t get to finish?” he nodded ; still thinking he was joking , until he felt your hand on his clothes dick. “y-yn.” he whimpered , you pouted. “oh poor you , you’re throbbing.” you stroked him through his pants. “you like my boobs jakey?”

he nodded and you stopped moving, he let out a whine. “oh don’t be so upset.” you took your tank top off , your boobs bouncing from the impact. “come on , i want you to cum just like he did.” you picked his cock back up; kissing his tip, looking up at him — this was his dream , to have you like this; stroking his cock. “you wanna cum jakey don’t you?” he whimpered , nodding. “ye-yes , please let me cum.” you cupped his balls which made him moan loudly. “fuck im gonna cum.” you were getting turned on from hearing him moan. “cum for me.” and he couldn’t help it , that set him off. “im cumming!” he shouted , as cum spurted from his tip on to your face, hitting your glasses. “fuck.” you kept stroking him , his legs twitching. “i can’t , i came , i came stop.” he whimpered. “please stop.” you finally gave him a rest , releasing his cock. “so cute.” you brought your fingers to your lips. “you’re so sensitive , you came so much and i barely did anything.”

you stood up , switching places with him. “i-i can go again , i just need a minute.” he huffed , you smiled. “yeah?” you straddled his lap. “is watching another one of these gonna help , or do you want me to help you get hard again?” you kissed the back of his ear. “i can help you.” your hand came to his , bringing it to your boobs. “do they feel nice?” he nodded. “i’ve seen you staring at them before.” you said , moaning as he began to knead it. “fuck that feels so good.” you grinded against him. “they're so sore , you’re making me feel so good.” your fingers tangling up in his hair. “su-such a good boy.” and just like that he was hard again. “oh i see you liked that?” you chuckled. “ca-can i put it in now?” he didn’t want to cum just from you sitting on it. “i don’t know , you really haven’t been a good boy.” he whimpered.

“i-i have.” he said , his hair sticking to your forehead. “really?” you moved again. “good boys don’t jerk off to their roommate without permission do they?” you said , he shook his head. “that’s right , only perverts do.” he was about to blow his load. “y-yn pl-please let me put it in , wa-wanna feel you.” he begged , you loved it , he was so willing to do anything to cum. “i don’t really think you deserve it , i think you don’t deserve to cum for the rest of the week.” you began to stand up.

no , he couldn’t go that long he was sure , he jerked off almost everyday, he knew this would kill him. “please let me put it in , please i’ll be a good boy i promise.” he said. “i wont cum with out your permission ever again. , please , i’ll do whatev– oh fuck!” he gasped as you sunk down on him. “oh fuck , fuck fuck!” he moaned as he felt the warmth of your cunt. “jakey you’re so big.” you began to move , his head was thrown back , eyes crossed almost as you rode him. “that’s it jakey , you like it?” he nodded. “so-so much , please go faster.”

you grabbed his cheeks forcing him to look at you. “you wanna kiss?” he nodded. “please.” you kissed his lips , bouncing on his cock. he was in heaving right now , if he could feel this for the rest of his life — or at least for the next two minutes, then he could die a happy man. “y-yn im gonna cum again.” he said , looking up at you with wide , tear filled eyes. “can i cum? please can i cum?” he moaned , you kissed his forehead , tugging at the nape of his neck. “good boy for asking , you can cum.”

his hips involuntarily shook as he bucked up into you cumming hard. “fuck.” he wrapped his arms around your waist , as he pumped what felt like the largest load he ever gave. “jakey.” you moaned , he slightly bit down on your shoulder. “can i keep going?” he nodded , he was willing to push forward even though his cock was sore. “ye-yes you can.” you began to speed up. “oh fuck , jakey yes!” you squealed , the boy below you moaning loudly as he felt overwhelmed by your cunt. “fuck im gonna cum.” you moaned , he brought his lips to your nipples , sucking harshly on them. “ah yes!” you tugged his hair. “im cumming.”

he felt you cumming , and he thought he was gonna get hard again. “did you cum?” you nodded. “it felt so good.” you praised , scratching his neck gently. “you’re such a good boy jakey , such a good boy.”

he woke up later from his nap later that night ; tired and hungry, you had really did a number on him. he stumbled his way to the kitchen opening the fridge. “fun evening?” heeseung stood in the hallway. “fuck off , you set me up.” he took the cookie off the plate. “I’m starving.” he said. “im sure , you want some ramen?” he nodded. “and i didn’t set you up , i knew she wouldn’t mind it?”

“how do know?” he said. “because she’s fucking obsessed with you bro.” heeseung said. “he’s right.” they both turned to where you were standing in his shirt. “you’re just haven’t been paying attention.” you said , sitting in his lap, his eyes widened. “too busy watching porn that looks like her.” heeseung waited for the water to boil. “but that’s okay , that means you can make it up to me right?” you smirked feeling him get hard again. “ye-yeah.” you stood up. “good boy.” you made your way back to his room. “oh that was gross.” heeseung gagged , but jake didn’t care. “just leave the ramen out on the stove.” he followed behind you. “please keep it down I have homework.”

“there you are.” you waited on his bed. “come here.” you moved your pointer finger; he moved towards you. “good boy.” he crawled on to the bed , your legs spreading for him to sit in the middle. “what do you want?” you asked. “to-to taste you , i really want to taste you.” he could almost taste it on his tongue. “go a head.” you pushed his head down , where you were already bare and ready for him. “you know what to do.” you moaned feeling him lick your clit. “oh fuck.”

“such a good boy.”

©️LUVYENI

[evie-sturns]

21 - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you recieve a unusual call from chris, you realise he’s got blackout drunk on his 21st birthday. you’re forced to go pick him up and take care of him in his interesting state..

contains: fluff, mentions of alcohol, bestfriend!chris, mentions of throwing up (no detail whatsoever), a lot of chaos

————————————🔸————————————

11:36pm

i yawn as i shuffle around in bed, my warm covers wrapped around me as i scroll through instagram,

suddenly my phone starts to ring,

‘incoming call from ‘chrizzzzyy’

i pick up the phone, pressing it to my ear as chris instantly starts,

“you know you’re so beautiful, like soo gorgeous.” he mumbles into the phone, his words slurred.

there’s faint chatter in the background, along with heavy music.

“chris? you okay?” i ask, my eyebrows knitting together with confusion.

“i need you- like how a baby bird needs its mama” he groans, followed by a loud laugh.

i giggle, “chris what is wrong with you!”

the realisation hits.

chris turned 21 today, i couldn’t make it to his party due to work, but for fucks sake, this kid is drunk.

“oh my god- chris you got drunk? i thought you said you wouldn’t!” i say frantically,

“uh factually i am not drunk- i think you’ll find.” he fumbles over his words,

“can you come.” he follows up.

i scoff, “christopher- it is midnight, where are you?”

he pauses for a moment, before i hear him chatter to someone else,

“yo- where am i, my girl wants to know” he mumbles to a friend i assume,

he shortly gets back to me “i’m at home, but i want to be at your home.”

i nod with a small huff, “god, i’ll come get you now, just wait on the curb and don’t go on the road whatever you do.”

he almost giggles, “you sound like my mommy.”

i groan before hanging up,

i heave myself out of bed, knowing i’m about to have to collect my best friend in his state.

i grab my keys and fix my hair before walking downstairs, creaking open the door.

the cold night hair hits me hard, i shiver as i jog up to my car, swinging open the car door.

i instantly speed off down the street.

-

10 minutes later i arrive at his street, the pebbles crunch under my tires as i slowly drive to his house.

chris shoots up from his sat position on the side walk, giving me a huge grin.

i pull up beside him, reaching over and opening the door.

“hey baby.” he grins, flopping down in the passenger seat,

“chris.” i warn, reaching over and buckling him in.

“how much have you had to drink?” i ask, looking over at him.

he hesitates before shrugging, “shit- ‘prolly like 20 or something.”

i pause, “20 of what.”

he shrugs again, “couldn’t tell ya sweet cheeks.”

i throw my head back, with a small laugh.

“come- come sit on my lap” he grins, his eyes half shut, patting his lap.

“chris! i am not your girlfriend.” i remind him, his face drops

“you’re- you’re breaking up with me!?” he raises his voice

“we were never dating” i point out, his eyes water.

“are you seriously gonna cry?” i laugh,

he nods with a small pout, “my girl, my one and only is dumping me-“

i lean over the centre console and give him a hug,

i hold back laughs as i pull out my phone, putting it on 0.5x and holding it up.

“tell me what’s wrong chris.” i grin,

“you- you’re breaking up with me!” his words are slurred as he throws a mini tantrum.

“you’re my babe, my hot little babe.” he sighs,

“oh my god chris”. i laugh, putting my phone down and starting the car,

i roll down the windows for him as i attempt to explain that fact that i am NOT his girlfriend, and never had been.

he sits up on his knees and attempts to make a break for it out the window, he sticks his arms and head out the window.

i reach over and grab his shirt, pulling him back in before rolling up the window

“chris! no!”

he mumbles something vaguely before looking over at me,

“we hooking up tonight right?” he blurts out so causally.

“shit i bet you could give me the best-“ he starts but i clamp a hand over his mouth.

“chris.. anything you say tonight you will regret.” i warn him with a smile.

“but- but you’re so pretty!” he protests,

i pull into my driveway, hopping out the car before walking over to chris’s side.

i open the door and he jumps out, stumbling over onto the grass.

“oh no chris.” i sigh, grabbing his underarms and picking him up.

he wraps his legs around my lower back and burys his head into my shoulder.

i carry him up the driveway with small huffs,

i fiddle with my keys before unlocking the door, chris is practically a koala bear, clinging to me as i heave us upstairs.

i finally enter my room before dropping him on the bed.

i switch on the light and take a good look at him,

“like what you seee.” he grins with a stupid lip bite,

he looks white as a sheet, my eyes widen as i grab his hand.

i run him into the bathroom.

“i’m gonna throw up.” he mumbles,

“oh god oh god.” i whine, helping him into the shower.

i stand outside the shower as i frantically try to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off of him.

i unbuckle his belt and tug it off, discarding it out the bathroom floor.

i unbutton his shorts for him, guiding them down his legs, leaving him in his boxers.

“look- you get your boxers off and just try not to throw up for another minute.”

he giggles as he tugs his boxers down, i slide the shower curtain across and take a deep breath as i sit on the toilet lid.

he reaches a hand out of the shower curtain, holding his boxers.

“just drop them i’m not touching that.” i groan,

he drops them in the pile of clothes before i hear a small-

“oh shit.”

i reach into the shower and turn it on cold, trying to drown out the sounds of chris..

i hear some deep breaths from behind the curtain,

“y/n!!!! i threw up!!!” he calls out,

“that’s okay! just get clean in the shower for me!” i tell him,

he sounds panicked, “hey, the alcohol is better out then in sweetie.” i tell him,

he laughs in response, “you’re righhhtt!”

i scoff, waiting for him to finish up,

my eyes widen as chris goes silent, “chris! you better not be peeing in my shower i swear to god-“ i start but he cuts me off with a loud giggle.

i throw my head into my hands,

“oopsie daisy’s.” he doesn’t stop laughing.

-

after 45 minutes of chris yapping my ear off, i finally got him changed and in my bed.

“and then guess what he said, he said that he was gonna fight me if i didn’t give him my drink, like just admit you’re a alcoholic!” he rambles on about his night.

“lay down for me.” i tell him as he sits on my matress.

he flops down on my mattress, his head hitting the pillow.

i lean over the bed and tug up the covers over him.

i move his hair off his forehead with my hand then place a kiss to his forehead.

he yawns loudly before whining,

“where are you going!”

i scoff, “i’m gonna sleep on the couch chris.”

he huffs, “but we sleep together all the time!”

i roll my eyes, “that’s when there’s no risk of you throwing up on me”

he kicks his legs, “i promise i won’t!”

i hesitate before giving in, jumping into bed beside him.

he smiles stupidly before wrapping his arms around me, tugging me into his side.

i usually wouldn’t let him cuddling me slide, but i guess he’s not gonna remember it tomorrow.

-

10:23am

i stir awake, chris’s arms still wrapped right around my waist.

he groans, waking up aswell.

“why am i cuddling you” he laughs tiredly,

“do you remember anything that happened last night?” i ask, sitting up in bed.

“not really.” he smiles, rubbing his eyes.

i reach over him and grab my phone, opening up the camera roll.

“you had a long love confession to me.” i giggle, his face drops.

“what?” he asks panicked, i give him my phone

he presses play, letting the video play outloud.

“you’re breaking up with me!? you’re my babe, my hot little babe”

-

@jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle @sturnsforlife v @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos

[mattybsgroupie]

— movies ★ matt sturniolo

— CONTENTS: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); boob sucking/nipple play (f receiving); semi-public; sub!matt

— NOTES: hello my darlings!!! SUB MATT IS BACK!!! nothing much to tell about this one, it's super short and super simple, just jerking him off at the movies lmao. not proofread but hope you enjoy anyways! thank you for almost 1,7K i dont deserve all of this love, yall are just fantastic.

when matt and i first started dating, the movie theater was our favorite place. it was dark, comfortable, and no one would disturb us. as we grew into our relationship, date nights were no longer a priority, but we both knew how much we missed it. the innocence, the butterflies in my stomach, the nervousness about holding his hand, the giggly kisses and the awkward confessions.

“are we really doing this again?” matt asked me with the biggest smile on his face, adjusting his sweater. i nodded, glad that i was able to convince him to go out.

“we want… whatever’s next” he said to the cashier as he interlocked his fingers with mine, raising his free hand to his pockets, looking for his wallet. “yeah, this one” he nodded and grabbed the tickets, leading us to our assigned seats.

i didn’t know how long it had been since the movie started. i would often lose myself on matt’s blue eyes, his skin reflecting the red colors of the big screen, his poorly done beard emphasizing his sharp features. i couldn’t resist placing a few kisses on his jaw, receiving chuckles and a squeeze on my hand, almost as if he was warning me to behave because he was actually interested in whatever we were watching. 

until the scenery changed. the lights turned warmer, the music slower and suddenly it was hard to breathe. i felt my chest raising on its own as the sensual atmosphere took over the room, matt’s grip on my hands tightening, silently asking me to take my eyes off of him and pay attention to the erotic scene in front of me. 

we didn’t expect such an explicit act. the actress had removed her bra, flashing her bare breasts to the few people at the movie theater. matt’s mouth fell open in surprise and i audibly gasped, quickly raising my palm to cover my sudden noise.

both of us turned our heads to each other, widening our eyes as we tried to hold back our laughs. “i promise i’m not looking” matt joked, pretending to block his view.

“you can look” i giggled, adjusting myself on the chair and getting closer to matt, letting my hand rest on his thigh. “i know how much you like boobs”

“well” he stopped for a second. “you’re right, but i’d rather look at yours” matt checked me out from head to toe, a grin appearing on his face as if i was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

i decided to be bold. my free hand moved to the hem of my sweater, pulling the cloth upwards and revealing just a bit of skin - enough to get him excited. i mentally thanked him for always choosing the back row, giving us privacy to our heated makeout sessions back then.

“please?” matt whispered, his digits reaching for my exposed tummy. “wanna see your boobs, please”. 

it was definitely risky, but i couldn’t resist his pleading blue eyes, the way his top teeth bit his bottom lip, how his fingers caressed my belly. what seemed like nothing to others was already too much for us, along with the adrenaline of doing the same silly things we did years ago as teenagers in love. i had blew him at that same seat several times, but it was different now. as if we weren’t supposed to be acting that way. and it felt too fucking good to ignore.

i finally gave in, pulling my sweater and revealing my breasts. i wasn’t wearing a bra, making this way easier for matt, who immediately shoved his face in between them, muffling a “thank you” i was only able to hear because it was a habit. he would always thank me for anything i gave, even my boobs. 

his beard tickled my skin as he moved downwards, resting his cheek just above my left tit. he wasn’t going to speak, too busy sticking his tongue out to tease my nipple before latching his lips around it. matt sucked so hard i left out a sigh, bringing my fingers to his hair, caressing his brown locks as i whispered how much of a good boy he was, which certainly didn’t help his impatient self. matt squirmed around on his chair, trying to get comfortable and ignore the growing tent inside his pants.

“need help, baby?” i asked, brushing my digits over his boner. matt nodded desperately, not letting go of boobs until i wrapped my knuckles around his covered length, making him gasp from the sudden contact. “what’s got you like that, hm? was it the movie or me?”

“you” he said, hiding his face on the crook of my neck. “always you”.

“such a good boy for me” i praised, receiving a muffled whine in response.  “nuh uh, keep it down. you don’t want them to hear us, do you?” matt denied with his head, jointing his hips forward, silently asking for me to actually jerk him off. i knew it had hit him too. the nostalgia, the excitement, the risk of doing something we shouldn’t. 

matt dragged his lips across my chest as i finally got a grip of his cock, placing my hand inside his pants and slowly pumping his shaft. he placed his tongue on my nipple once again, sucking it at the same pace i would stroke him. with long minutes of a lazy and steady handjob, matt was far gone — he couldn’t care less about the movie, frantically chasing for his orgasm.

i could feel his chest panting as i heard the heavy sighs coming from the back of his throat. matt was trying so hard to stay quiet and yet, he failed, letting out a cracked moan when i brought my thumb to his leaking tip, rubbing his slit as i tightened the grip on his throbbing cock.

“cum” he whispered to me, not opening his eyes. i pretended i didn’t hear it, my eyes glued to the big screen in front of me. “please, wan’ cum” matt spoke again, replacing the lips on my boobs with his hands, massaging my flesh.

he wasn’t getting what he wanted — my attention and permission. “princess, please” he pleaded, now covering my neck in kisses as he mimicked on my nipples the same movements i did on his slit. i savored the moment for a bit, hanging my mouth open as his kisses turned into love bites.

“hold it” i said, loosening my fist. matt whined at the loss of contact, throwing his head back in frustration. “you look so pathetic, baby” i cooed, running my fingers through his hair before cupping his cheeks. he looked so, so fucked out. “such a needy boy, aren’t you?”

“no” he pouted, blue eyes covered in desperation. “i’m good, i promise i’m your good boy!” matt said, moving his hips upwards, trying to get some relief to his aching cock.

“you’re gonna have to wait until a really loud scene comes up” i told him. “we don’t want anyone to hear this good boy cumming all over himself hm?” i asked with faux sympathy, feeling his length twitching against my hand. he wasn’t gonna be able to hold much longer.

“boobs” matt practically begged. “i will keep my mouth on them and i won’t make any noises” he said, more to himself than to me.

“yeah? you wanna cum sucking my boobs?” i teased matt, who vigorously nodded while adjusting himself one last time. he spread his legs open, waiting for my cue. “go ahead” i encouraged him and he immediately latched his lips around my nipple again, muffling his needy sounds as i jerked him off, my fingers pumping his swollen length rapidly enough for matt to cum seconds later.

matt’s whines turned to whimpers as he reached his high, releasing the sticky spurt over my hand. i couldn’t see it, but i knew the inside of his pants looked like a mess. he panted heavily as he slowly came back from his orgasm, thighs still trembling after holding it for so long.

i kissed the top of his head as i finally removed my palm from him, raising it near my mouth and licking his cum. “don’t do this to me” he said as he watched me, pulling my sweater down. “i’m gonna get hard again”

“good thing we have the whole movie left” i smirked before sealing our lips together in a passionate, hungry kiss. 

after all these years, we were still the same kids who started dating at the back row of the movie theater.

[taeyongdoyoung]

hide and seek

summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k

Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?

He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.

“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.

The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.

The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...

What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.

“Chris, please…”

Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.

Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.

Unless…

He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.

“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.

“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.

The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.

“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.

“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.

You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?

“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”

“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.

“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”

“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”

“It really isn’t…” you confess.

“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.

“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”

“Um, sure, why not?”

You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.

“I’m in.”

“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”

“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”

“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”

Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.

“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”

“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”

“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.

“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”

His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.

“If you find me,” you tease.

“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”

You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.

“Sixty…fifty-nine…”

Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.

Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”

Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.

“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.

You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.

“Last chance. Run.”

But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.

“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…

“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.

“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”

“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”

“Sure, that’s fine by me.”

“Sorry for ruining the mood.”

Chan shakes his head.

“You could never.”

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.

“Scene?”

“Scene.”

“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”

If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?

“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.

Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.

“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.

You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…

As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.

His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.

You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.

“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.

“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.

“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.

Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.

“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.

“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.

“You feel good?”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”

“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”

Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.

“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.

“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.

“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.

“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”

“Action?”

“Action,” you confirm.

Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.

“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.

He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.

Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.

“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.

You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”

You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.

“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.

Wait, what did you just say?

“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.

You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.

Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.

“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”

Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?

“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.

“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.

“Better than your fantasies?”

“You have no idea.”

“So…when can we do something like this again?”

“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”

Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.

Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.

“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.

“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”

“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”

“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”

To be continued…

[onlyhaos]

🧴 · yapper!reader x husband!Vernon , fluff

Your husband loves hearing you talk about literally anything, especially when it’s evening’s self care time

“Baby, hold still, I can’t apply the mask if you move”

You said, as you put on the face cream with a small spatula, your fingertips resting under your boyfriend’s chin.

“Sorry” Vernon mumbled tight-lipped, holding back a smile.

“Do you want to tell me about your day? You forgot to do so today” He spoke in a whisper, trying to not move his mouth as much as possible.

You smiled at his attempt to stay still, still straddling his lap as you scooped up more cream.

“Today was pretty boring, just like usual. Though my co-worker made me work overtime, as you might’ve noticed, since she forgot to do an important thing in the project that we’re working on right now. But it was okay since you were also occupied with work and weren’t alone at home. Oh- and also..”

And there you went, talking about everything that came to your mind right now.

Whether it was about that show you wanted to watch, the pretty purse you saw on your way home or the food you’d crave for tomorrow evening. Vernon always listened to what you had to say.

He never minded the way you talked about your interest or whatever you wanted to say.

And he’s thankful for you being so talkative, otherwise he would’ve never met you and would never be married to you like in this lifetime.

While he worked as a barista, he’d never seen you in the shop before. What he didn’t know, though, was that you had always peeked through the glass of the cafe when you’d walk by.

Until your friend finally dared you to go inside and talk to him you would’ve never thought you’d step foot into this comfortable and small-spaced cafe.

“And what’s the order?” The kind boy asked, and oh was his voice pretty.

A small gulp and you got over it “A normal latte, please” You answered, taking in the way his pretty eyes looked into yours.

Nodding, he placed the order. “Alright, what is your name? Today’s pretty packed, so I can easily call you over” Liar. Yes the cafe was filled with more customers than usual, but it wasn’t that packed that he had to take names.

“Y/n,” you answered with a warm smile, staying quiet. But as he wrote down your name, you couldn’t stop the words that flowed over your tongue.

“Would you also like my number?” Your eyes widening at your own sentence. You really dared to do it now.

Looking at the boys’ face, you couldn’t tell what his thoughts were. Scared that he might decline, you tried to calm yourself by saying all he can say is no.

But that doubt was quickly replaced by his gentle smile. “Sure, but maybe after I placed the other customers orders, is that okay?” He asked politely.

You quickly paid for your latte, watching as the other customers placed their order one by one. Thank god it was Saturday, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to wait those unbearable 10 minutes.

“Alright, I think I’ll allow myself a small break by letting you give me your number, since I made you wait now” The brown eyed man spoke, introducing himself as Vernon.

Getting ready to leave the cafe, his voice suddenly called out to you. “Y/n, your latte” He chuckled. Wow, his chuckle was even prettier than his warm smile.. no both of those were equally pretty.

Before getting lost in your thoughts, you immediately smiled back, letting out a small awkward smile.

“Right, sorry” Grabbing your coffee you made, or tried to, make your way out of the cafe, but now holding your latte that the cute guy made you in your hand you began talking to him.

Not that he minded, and his co-worker Seungkwan also didn’t. Well, he bickered a bit since he had to take over, but it wasn’t as bad since he knew his friend might finally get a damn love-life.

“Love, you’re telling the story like I wasn’t the guy you asked for his number” Vernon, or different, your husband said as he was now putting the cream mask onto your face.

“It’s such a cute story though, I can’t wait to tell our kids one day.” You said, slightly tired but still giggling.

Both of you, with your face masks on, continued talking in the embrace of your warm bedsheets.

It finally got more quiet as tiredness started seeping into every cell of your body, moving your exhausted body to the bathroom and finally peeling off the face masks it was time to put out the lights of your nightstands.

With a small sigh leaving your mouth, followed by Vernon’s small sigh, your eyes fell shut.

“I’ll always appreciate and be thankful for your love for me, my favorite” You whispered, sure that Vernon was already is dreamland.

So when you finally drifted off to sleep, you didn’t register the quiet response from your husband.

“It’s the least I’ll ever be able to do for you, my pretty” the familiar warm smile following as he, too, drifted off to sleep.

— ౨ৎ

I actually didn’t think it’d end up this long and definitely didn’t plan to tell how they met but I’m pretty proud of this one. Also it’s not proofread, it’s 11:20 pm and I’m deadly tired now😭😭 Much love, and I’m hoping you’ll enjoy this fic and much as I enjoyed writing it for you💓💓

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1854 - could it be love?

chapter summary: You meet Logan, a young man who is briefly stopping by in New York City. Despite both of your better judgments, you quickly realize that perhaps there's nothing wrong with falling in love.

word count: 22.2k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: ahh!! welcome to this new series! i'm very excited to start this journey with all of y'all! just a note, when i say 'character death(s)' in the warnings it means that reader is going to die at the end of every chapter. that's the entire premise of this series, which was inspired by the 11th doctor and clara (iykyk). but first, we have a lot of time to cover before we even reach the first x-men movie so strap in!

i also didn't mean for this to be as long as it is, oops

warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, slow burn, illness, character deaths

series masterlist → chapter 2

You didn’t necessarily love your job, but it was better than other options available for you. You grumbled to yourself as you walked down the sidewalk of New York City, horses neighing and wheels rattling on the brick street.

The bonnet on your head protected you from the sun beating down, keeping you from further heat in your dress. You had many things to do while you were out, get the children some new clothes and toys, buy some groceries, and buy some extra cloth for when you eventually had to sew their clothing.

As you passed by a small shop, you paused, peering in through the window. A few wooden toys sat on the shelf inside, simple and sturdy. Perfect for the boys. You pushed the door open, a little bell jingling as you entered, and you made your way toward the display.

"Can I help you, miss?" The shopkeeper’s voice startled you, but you smiled politely.

"Just looking for some toys," you replied, eyes scanning the shelves.

As you picked up a carved wooden horse, the door opened again behind you, letting in a bit of fresh air and a man’s heavy footsteps. You didn’t pay it much mind until you felt a presence nearby, a little too close for comfort. You turned slightly, catching sight of a tall man with dark hair and an unshaven face, dressed in a rough shirt and worn pants, a bit out of place among the polished streets of the city.

He glanced your way, his sharp eyes catching yours for a brief moment before he looked back to the shelves.

Something about him felt different—dangerous, but not in the way that made you want to run. More like it pulled you in, made you curious.

You turned back to the toys, but your mind kept wandering back to the stranger standing nearby. You couldn’t help but glance his way again.

"Those are good for little ones," the man said, his voice rough but casual. He nodded at the toy horse in your hand. "They hold up well. Tougher than they look."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden comment. "You have experience with them?"

His lips twitched, almost a smile. "A bit. Used to make ‘em myself."

You looked him over more closely now, intrigued. "You don’t seem like the toy-making type."

His eyes flicked to yours, something amused in the way he looked at you. "Not anymore," he said, then turned his attention back to the shelves.

There was a silence between you for a moment, but it didn’t feel awkward. If anything, it felt like he didn’t mind you being there, like he was used to people drifting in and out of his space.

You finally spoke again. "I suppose these are sturdy enough for two boys, then."

"Yeah. They’ll survive a beating."

You laughed, the sound surprising you. He gave you another look, a bit more interested this time. There was something about him that made you feel seen in a way that was different from how most men looked at you.

You gathered a few more toys, careful not to spend too much, but you couldn’t resist getting something extra for the little girl you looked after. She was sweet, and it wasn’t her fault she was stuck in such a strict household.

The stranger watched you with those sharp eyes, like he could see more than what was right in front of him. You wondered what his story was, but you weren’t about to ask.

As you headed to the counter, he followed, though he didn’t buy anything. The shopkeeper took your coins, and you gathered your parcels, still feeling the man’s presence behind you.

"Thanks for the advice," you said over your shoulder, more as a courtesy than anything else.

He nodded, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Anytime."

With that, you left the shop, stepping back into the sunlight, the weight of your errands still on your shoulders. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted. Like maybe that wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

---

Edwin and Phillip seemed to enjoy the toy you got them, already fighting over who gets to play with it first. They were the eldest, Edwin was 9, Phillip was 7, and Ada was 6. You handed her the toy you got for her, one she got to keep all to herself.

Ada's face lit up when you handed her the small, carved doll. She held it in her hands gently, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"For me?" she asked, her voice soft with disbelief.

You smiled and nodded. "Just for you, Ada."

Her eyes sparkled, and she hugged the doll to her chest. "Thank you!"

Edwin and Phillip were already in the middle of their tug-of-war with the wooden horse, the two boys shouting over whose turn it was.

"I had it first!" Edwin argued, pulling the toy toward him.

"You always get it first!" Phillip shot back, his voice growing louder.

You sighed and stepped in, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Why don't you take turns? If you can't share, I'll have to take it away, and no one gets to play with it."

They both groaned but reluctantly agreed, setting the horse on the floor. Edwin was a bit of a handful, but he could be sweet when he wanted to be. Phillip, the quieter one, usually followed his brother’s lead. At least Ada wasn’t much trouble.

After helping Ada settle in with her new toy, you turned to check on the boys, making sure they hadn’t already forgotten your words. But as you did, your thoughts drifted back to the man in the shop. There was something about him—something that lingered in your mind even now. He didn’t fit in with the usual crowd you saw around here, but he didn’t seem bothered by that.

It was odd, though, that someone like him would be in a toy shop of all places. You tried to shake the thought away, but it kept creeping back, a sense that your brief encounter meant more than it appeared.

Later, after the children had settled down, you found yourself with a rare quiet moment. You sat by the window, staring out at the street below, watching the people passing by. The day was winding down, the sky fading into hues of orange and pink, and yet, the man’s sharp eyes lingered in your mind.

You shook your head, scolding yourself for thinking too much about a stranger. It was just a passing moment—nothing more. You had far more important things to focus on, like taking care of the children and making sure everything ran smoothly for the household. That man, whoever he was, wasn’t part of your world.

But still, something in the back of your mind whispered that you’d see him again. And the thought of it didn’t exactly bother you.

---

The next few days were a blur of your usual routine. The children kept you busy, and you barely had a moment to yourself. But even as you went through the motions of your daily life, you couldn't help but feel that sense of something—or someone—waiting.

It was on a brisk afternoon, a few days after your encounter at the shop, when you found yourself running errands again. The streets were busier than usual, with carriages clattering over the cobblestones and people bustling past in a hurry. You had a long list of things to pick up, and the thought of weaving through the crowded market already had you dreading the trip.

As you made your way through the streets, you spotted a familiar figure standing at the corner near a fruit stand. The man from the shop. He hadn’t seen you yet, but something about the way he stood, slightly apart from the rest of the crowd, watching the passersby with a quiet intensity, made you pause.

You debated for a moment. Should you approach him? Or would it seem too forward?

Before you could decide, his gaze lifted, and he spotted you. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition passing over his features, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, watching you.

You took a deep breath and made your way over, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Fancy seeing you here again," you said, trying to sound casual as you approached.

"Didn’t expect to run into you either," he replied, his voice still rough, but there was a hint of something in his tone. Amusement? Interest? You couldn’t quite place it.

"I was just running errands," you said, gesturing to the market behind you. "You know how it is."

He nodded, his eyes flicking over you for a moment before landing back on the crowd. "Yeah, I get it."

There was a beat of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it almost felt... familiar. Like talking to him wasn’t so strange after all.

"Are you from around here?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head. "Not really. Just passing through."

"Do you always pass through toy shops when you're in town?"

His lips quirked into that almost-smile again. "Only when I feel like it."

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "Mysterious, aren’t you?"

He shrugged, not giving much away. "Maybe."

You were about to ask him something else when a shout came from behind you. You turned to see one of the street vendors, an older man, calling out angrily at a young boy who had clearly tried to swipe an apple from his cart.

Before you could even react, the man next to you stepped forward. His movements were quick and fluid, like he was used to handling situations like this. He reached the boy before the vendor could get too close, gripping the kid by the collar.

"Hey," the man said, his voice low but firm. "That’s not how you do things."

The boy froze, wide-eyed, clearly not expecting to be caught so quickly.

"Put it back," the man ordered.

The boy, trembling slightly, dropped the apple back onto the cart. "I’m sorry!" he blurted out before scurrying off into the crowd.

You watched as the man exchanged a few words with the vendor, calming him down before he turned back to you, his expression unreadable.

"You didn’t have to do that," you said, surprised by how quickly he had handled the situation.

He shrugged again. "The kid’ll learn his lesson. Better this way than the other options."

You looked at him, a little more curious now. He wasn’t just some rough-around-the-edges stranger. There was something deeper to him, something that made you want to know more.

“I don’t think I caught your name the other day,” you settled on, meeting his eyes as the energy of the crowd buzzed around you both.

He gave a small nod, like he was considering whether to answer or not. "Logan," he said simply.

"Logan," you repeated, trying the name on your tongue. It suited him, rough around the edges but solid. "I’m Y/N."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave another slight nod, acknowledging it. The silence between you wasn’t heavy, but it felt like something unspoken passed through the space. Something that told you he wasn’t just another passerby in your life.

"Thanks for helping that kid back there," you said, breaking the quiet. "Not everyone would step in like that."

Logan shrugged like it was nothing, his eyes scanning the crowd again. "Not a big deal."

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. "You do that a lot? Play the hero?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, barely there, but it was enough. "No. Just don't like seeing people get hurt when I can do something about it."

There was a gruffness to his words, but it didn’t feel forced. It felt real. And it was clear that he wasn’t the type to go around explaining himself to anyone. You liked that.

"Well, either way, it was good of you." You glanced down at the parcels in your arms, suddenly remembering the rest of your errands. "I should probably get going, before I’m late getting back."

Logan gave you a small nod, his eyes flicking down to your parcels. "You take care."

You hesitated, a part of you not wanting to walk away just yet. But what could you say? You didn’t know this man, not really, and yet you felt drawn to him in a way that was hard to explain. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, like he had been through more than he let on. Or maybe it was the quiet strength in him that made you feel oddly safe.

"Maybe I’ll see you around?" you offered, not wanting to make the goodbye feel so final.

Logan’s eyes met yours again, and for a moment, there was something softer in his gaze. "Yeah. Maybe."

With that, you gave him a small smile and turned to leave, weaving your way through the bustling street. As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance back once, just to see if he was still there. He was, standing where you left him, watching you go.

---

The following days fell back into your usual routine—taking care of the children, running errands, keeping the household in order. Yet, no matter how busy you were, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. Something about him lingered in your mind, and it wasn’t just because he had helped out that kid. There was something deeper, something you couldn’t quite shake.

You found yourself wondering if he really was just passing through, or if there was more to his story than he was letting on. You didn’t know why it mattered so much, but it did.

One afternoon, as you were helping Ada tie the ribbon on her new dress, she looked up at you with her big, curious eyes.

"Y/N, are you thinking about something?" she asked innocently.

You blinked, surprised. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you’re smiling," she said, her voice soft and sweet.

You hadn’t even realized. "Oh," you said, chuckling softly. "I guess I was just lost in thought."

Ada giggled, her small hands playing with the ribbon you had just tied. "You think about a lot of things."

"That’s because I have to keep track of all you rascals," you teased, tickling her side gently.

She squealed in delight, wriggling away from you, and you couldn’t help but laugh. But as you settled back into the moment, that same thought returned, uninvited. Logan. Would you see him again?

---

It wasn’t long before the answer came.

You were out in the market again, picking up some fresh bread for dinner. The smell of the bakery wafted through the air, warm and comforting. You had just handed over your coins to the baker when you felt that familiar presence—something just outside the edge of your awareness, like a shadow that suddenly moved.

Turning slightly, your eyes caught sight of Logan standing near a fruit cart, his hands in his pockets, watching you. It wasn’t a surprise this time, but your heart still gave a little flutter at the sight of him. You made your way over, the crowd parting as you walked.

"Logan," you greeted, a smile pulling at your lips before you could stop it.

"Y/N," he replied, nodding in acknowledgment. His expression didn’t change much, but there was something almost... pleased in his eyes. Like he had expected you to come over.

"Still passing through?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced around the busy street before answering. "Seems like I’ve been here longer than I planned."

"Any reason for that?" you asked, half-joking but also genuinely curious.

Logan looked at you for a long moment, like he was debating how much to say. Finally, he shrugged. "No reason."

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you let it go. Instead, you gestured to the bread in your basket. "If you’re still around tomorrow, you should come by the park. I take the children there sometimes in the afternoons. It’s quieter than here."

Logan’s eyes flicked to yours, considering. "Maybe I will."

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction from his answer. It was small, but it was something.

"Well," you said, shifting the basket on your arm. "I should get back before the boys tear the house down."

Logan smirked at that, and you felt a warmth spread through you at the sight of it. He wasn’t a man who smiled easily, but when he did, it felt like a reward.

"Take care," he said, his voice low and steady, and you couldn’t help but notice how those words made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected.

As you walked away, the warmth of his gaze stayed with you, lingering long after you’d turned the corner.

---

The next day, you found yourself at the park, just as you had promised. Edwin and Phillip were racing around, laughing as they chased each other, while Ada sat quietly by your side, her doll clutched in her hands.

You tried not to look around for Logan, but you couldn’t help it. Every time someone passed by, your heart gave a little jump, only to settle back down when you realized it wasn’t him.

Just as you were beginning to think he wouldn’t show, you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

"Mind if I join you?" Logan’s voice was calm, but there was something in it that made you smile.

You glanced up, meeting his eyes. "Not at all."

Logan gave a nod, lowering himself onto the bench beside you. He stretched his long legs out, looking completely at ease. The sounds of the children’s laughter filled the air, and for a moment, you just sat in companionable silence.

“Boys giving you trouble?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“They always do,” you replied, watching as Edwin tackled Phillip to the ground. “But I think they’d explode if they didn’t.”

Logan’s lips twitched at that—almost a smile. “Kids’ll do that. Got too much energy.”

You tilted your head, studying him out of the corner of your eye. “You got siblings?”

Logan paused for a second, like the question had caught him off guard. “Yeah. A brother.”

You didn’t press, sensing there was more to the story but knowing better than to pry. Instead, you turned your attention back to the children.

“Do you have any?” Logan asked, nodding toward the boys.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I look after them for the family I work for. They keep me busy, though. Might as well be mine.”

He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment, resting his elbows on his knees.

“And her?” Logan nodded toward Ada, who sat a little apart from the boys, her doll tucked protectively in her arms.

“That’s Ada,” you said, smiling softly. “She’s the quiet one. A little sweet thing, really.”

“She’s got good taste,” Logan remarked, glancing at the doll in her hands.

You chuckled. “That was the least I could do for her. Life’s not exactly fun in that house.”

Logan’s gaze flicked toward you, something unreadable in his expression. “It never is.”

You frowned, catching the weight behind his words, but before you could ask what he meant, Ada wandered over to you. She gave Logan a curious glance but stayed close by your side.

“Who’s he?” Ada whispered, gripping your sleeve.

You smiled. “This is Logan. He’s a friend.”

Logan gave her a small nod, and Ada, ever cautious, just stared at him with wide eyes. After a beat, she leaned in close to you and whispered, “He looks like a bear.”

You tried—really tried—not to laugh, but it slipped out anyway. Logan gave a low chuckle of his own, shaking his head slightly.

“Smart kid,” he murmured.

Ada, encouraged by your laughter, gave a shy smile. Then she wandered back toward the boys, apparently satisfied with Logan’s presence.

“She’s got you figured out,” you teased, grinning.

Logan’s expression softened just a bit, and he gave a small shrug. “Kids see things plain.”

You leaned back on the bench, letting yourself relax. It was strange, how easy it felt to be around him. You didn’t know much about him—hardly anything, really—but something about Logan made you feel like you didn’t need to fill the silence with useless conversation.

“Do you ever stop moving?” you asked suddenly, curious. “You said you were just passing through, but it seems like you’ve stayed a bit longer.”

Logan didn’t answer right away. He stared out at the park, his expression thoughtful.

“Sometimes,” he said finally. “Not often, though.”

“That sounds lonely.”

His jaw twitched slightly, and he turned his head to look at you. “You get used to it.”

You held his gaze for a moment, sensing that there was more beneath the surface than he was letting on. But instead of prying, you just nodded, accepting his words for what they were.

“Well, if you ever feel like staying in one place for a bit, you know where to find me,” you said lightly.

Logan’s eyes flickered with something—something you couldn’t quite name—but he gave a small nod, like he was filing that thought away.

“Appreciate it,” he murmured.

Before you could say more, Edwin and Phillip came barreling toward you, out of breath and covered in dirt.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Edwin shouted. “Phillip said he could run faster than me, but I totally won!”

Phillip scowled, wiping mud off his cheek. “Only because you pushed me.”

“You pushed him?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at Edwin.

Edwin squirmed. “Not that hard.”

Logan snorted quietly, drawing both boys’ attention. They looked at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Who’s that?” Edwin whispered loudly, leaning closer to you.

“That’s Logan,” you said. “He’s a friend.”

Edwin tilted his head, squinting up at Logan. “You look tough.”

Logan’s lips twitched. “I get that a lot.”

“Can you fight?” Edwin asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up. “Like—like really fight?”

“Edwin!” you scolded, but Logan just gave a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “A bit.”

“Whoa!” Edwin’s jaw dropped, clearly impressed. Phillip, more cautious, stayed quiet but kept his eyes on Logan like he was trying to figure him out.

“Alright, enough of that,” you said, gently ushering the boys away. “Go play before I make you help with dinner.”

Edwin groaned but dragged Phillip along, the two of them running back toward the trees.

You glanced at Logan, shaking your head. “You’ve got yourself some new fans, it seems.”

Logan huffed softly. “Kids are alright.”

There was a pause, and then you asked quietly, “You really do keep moving, don’t you?”

Logan looked at you, his expression serious. “Yeah.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. There was something in his eyes that told you he’d seen more than most—more than you could probably imagine.

“Well,” you said softly, “if you ever get tired of running, you know where to find me.”

Logan held your gaze for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, with the barest hint of a smile, he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

---

You saw Logan more often than not. Truth be told, you enjoyed his presence. He was different than the other men you had met, not as harsh, didn’t look down on you, or see you as an object.

One day, while walking around the market with a small basket, filled with a few apples and some bread, you looked at a carriage, rolling along the brick road with a horse in front.

“I never learned how to ride a horse,” you said, glancing at the carriage as it rolled along the cobblestone street. The words came out before you even knew why you said them, maybe just filling the space between you and Logan.

Logan, walking beside you, gave you a sidelong glance. The faintest trace of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “That right?”

You shrugged, shifting the basket in your hand. “Never had a reason to, I suppose. And it’s not exactly something you pick up living in the city.”

He made a low noise in his throat that could have been agreement. For a moment, the two of you walked in companionable silence, the sounds of the market buzzing around you—vendors calling out, the clip-clop of hooves, the soft rustle of autumn leaves underfoot.

“Wouldn’t take much to learn,” Logan said finally, his voice easy. “Reckon you’d be good at it.”

You shot him a skeptical glance. “How would you know?”

Logan gave a lazy shrug. “Just a guess.”

There was something in his tone, though—something soft and amused that made your cheeks warm. You glanced away, pretending to be very interested in a stall selling ribbons, though your attention kept drifting back to Logan.

“You know how to ride, then?” you asked after a moment, keeping your tone casual.

He nodded. “Yeah. Picked it up when I was a kid.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious despite yourself. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Here and there,” he answered vaguely, though not unkindly. You got the sense that there was a lot more to the story—things he wasn’t ready to share. And maybe things you weren’t quite ready to ask about. Not yet, anyway.

“Would you teach me?” you asked on impulse, surprising even yourself.

Logan glanced over, one brow raised, and for a moment, you thought he might laugh. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave a small nod, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Sure,” he said simply.

A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it.

“When?” you pressed, feeling strangely excited by the idea.

Logan thought for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the road ahead. “Next Sunday,” he decided. “There’s a place just outside the city. I know a guy who’s got a couple of good horses.”

You felt a flicker of doubt—after all, you had responsibilities, and it wasn’t as though you could just abandon the children for the day. But Logan must have noticed your hesitation because he gave you a reassuring look.

“Bring the kids,” he offered. “They can run wild while you learn.”

That made you laugh softly. “You really think I can keep up with them and learn to ride a horse?”

Logan’s lips twitched. “I’ll handle the boys if they get out of hand.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“I’ve handled worse,” Logan said with a grin that made your stomach do an odd little flip.

You opened your mouth to respond, but just then, a vendor called out, advertising fresh apples, and you were drawn toward the stall. Logan followed at a leisurely pace, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

You picked a couple of apples, inspecting them before adding them to your basket. As you handed a coin to the vendor, you glanced at Logan again.

“Next Sunday, then?” you asked, as if you still needed confirmation.

Logan gave a small nod. “Next Sunday.”

Something about the way he said it—calm and certain—made you believe it would actually happen. And for the first time in a long while, you found yourself looking forward to something.

---

The boys were already running rampant in the large field, their shouts of laughter echoing across the open space. You could see Edwin trying to race Phillip again, their legs kicking up dirt as they charged back and forth. Ada, ever the quiet one, sat nearby on a stack of hay, her doll in her lap, watching them with a little smile on her face.

You stood near the horses, feeling a flutter of nervous energy in your stomach. Logan was beside you, calm as always, holding the reins of a chestnut mare with an ease that made it all look far simpler than you knew it was. He glanced over at you, his dark eyes catching yours, and you could see the trace of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You sure about this?” Logan asked, nodding toward the horse.

You swallowed, staring up at the mare. “Sure. How hard can it be?”

Logan gave a quiet laugh, clearly not convinced. “We’ll see.”

He held the reins steady, motioning for you to come closer. You did, taking a deep breath as you placed your hand on the saddle. The horse shifted slightly, and you jumped back a little, making Logan chuckle again.

“She’s not gonna bite,” he said, his voice low and amused.

“I know that,” you muttered, embarrassed but trying not to show it. “I just wasn’t ready.”

Logan gave a small shrug, stepping around to stand beside you. “C’mon. Foot in the stirrup. I’ll help you up.”

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. Grabbing hold of the saddle, you placed your foot in the stirrup just like he’d told you, and then you felt Logan’s hand on your waist, firm and steady. With one swift movement, he lifted you up onto the horse, and suddenly you were sitting much higher than you’d expected.

You gripped the reins tightly, your heart racing a little.

“There,” Logan said, standing back with his arms crossed. He looked up at you, giving a small nod of approval. “Not bad.”

You glanced down at him, a bit breathless. “I’m on the horse, but that doesn’t mean I can ride it.”

Logan smirked. “One step at a time, darlin’.”

He moved around to grab the reins, keeping his voice low and calm as he spoke to the mare, guiding her gently in a slow circle around the field. You held on, trying to keep yourself steady in the saddle. It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, but every time the horse took a step, you felt your stomach flip a little.

Logan kept walking beside you, close enough that you could hear him, though his voice was quiet. “You’re doin’ fine.”

“I feel ridiculous,” you muttered, glancing over at the boys to make sure they weren’t watching. Of course, they were, but they seemed more interested in their own games than in you wobbling around on a horse.

“You look fine,” Logan said, and there was something in his tone that made you glance at him sharply.

His eyes flickered up toward yours for just a moment, and you felt that familiar warmth in your cheeks again. You looked away quickly, trying to focus on staying upright.

“You’re just sayin’ that,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Logan chuckled. “No. If you looked ridiculous, I’d tell you.”

The confidence in his voice made you smile despite yourself. You loosened your grip on the reins just a little, letting yourself relax. The horse moved steadily beneath you, her pace slow and even, and after a few moments, you realized it wasn’t so bad after all.

“You ready to try it on your own?” Logan asked, his voice easy.

You blinked. “You think I’m ready?”

“Yeah.” He handed the reins over to you, stepping back a little. “Just keep her steady. She’s not gonna take off on you.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath and gripping the reins tightly as you urged the horse forward. She responded, moving into a gentle walk, and you felt a little thrill of pride. Logan walked beside you for a few more steps, watching, but then he stopped, folding his arms across his chest as he watched you guide the horse around the field on your own.

“You’re a natural,” he called out, a grin tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, feeling a bit more confident now. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

As you circled back around toward him, you slowed the horse, bringing her to a stop in front of Logan. He looked up at you, his eyes warm and approving.

“Told ya,” he said. “Not so hard, is it?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Not as hard as I thought.”

Logan reached up, taking the reins from your hands. “C’mon. Let’s get you down.”

This part felt a little trickier, but Logan was there, steadying you as you swung your leg over the saddle and slid down. His hands were firm on your waist again, and for just a moment, you were standing close enough to catch the scent of leather and something else—something distinctly Logan.

“Thanks,” you said softly, looking up at him.

Logan’s eyes held yours for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Then he gave a small nod, stepping back.

“Anytime,” he said, his voice low.

Before you could say anything else, the boys came running over, breathless and wild from their playing. Edwin looked up at the horse, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Can I ride next?” he asked, practically bouncing on his toes.

You glanced at Logan, raising an eyebrow. “You said you’d handle them if they got out of hand, remember?”

Logan sighed, giving you a wry smile. “Yeah, I remember.”

He looked at Edwin, then nodded toward the horse. “Alright, kid. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As Logan helped Edwin onto the horse, you stepped back, watching with a small smile. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the field, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful. You glanced at Ada, who was still sitting on the haystack, her doll in her arms, watching the scene with quiet interest.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let yourself enjoy moments like this.

As Logan guided Edwin around the field, you found yourself watching him more than the horse. There was something about the way he moved—strong, sure, like he belonged here, like he was more comfortable in this quiet, open space than anywhere else.

And as he turned, catching your eye for just a moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d found something here worth staying for.

---

“You ever think about gettin’ outta the city?” Logan asked, his voice low. “Findin’ somewhere quieter?”

You glanced at him, a little surprised by the question. “I’ve thought about it. But… I’ve got responsibilities.”

Logan nodded slowly, his eyes distant as he stared out at the horizon. “Yeah. Responsibilities.”

The way he said it made you wonder if he was thinking about something—or someone—far away. You’d learned quickly that Logan wasn’t one to talk much about his past, and though you were curious, you didn’t push.

You turned a jar of honey over in your hand, Mr. Thomas had asked you to buy them another jar while you were out. “If I didn’t have responsibilities, I’d like to live out in a cabin, away from everything else. Sometimes things here are noisy. I’d just like to… I don’t know, exist without worryin’ about anything.”

Logan, standing beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets, gave a small grunt of agreement. "Sounds nice."

You glanced at him, curious. "You ever think about it? Leaving the city behind, finding a quiet spot somewhere?"

Logan paused for a moment, his gaze distant. "Yeah. Sometimes."

The simplicity of his answer hung in the air between you, and for a second, you wondered if he'd actually let himself think about settling down. It seemed unlikely, given how much he kept moving, but there was something in the way he said it, something almost wistful.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy who stays in one place for too long," you teased, shifting the basket in your hand as you handed the vendor a coin for the honey.

Logan shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Guess not."

You both fell into a comfortable silence as you continued walking through the market. The streets bustled with people, but somehow, with Logan by your side, it all felt a little less overwhelming. You didn't have to fill the quiet with pointless chatter. He wasn’t like the others in the city—constantly rushing, looking for something to gain. He just… existed, like you wanted to.

As you passed by a small stall selling flowers, you slowed down, your eyes catching on a bouquet of wildflowers that reminded you of something you'd see out in the countryside. Logan noticed, his eyes following your gaze.

"You like those?" he asked, nodding toward the flowers.

You smiled softly. "Yeah. They remind me of… I don’t know, freedom, I guess."

Logan gave a small chuckle. "Freedom, huh?"

You shrugged, suddenly feeling a little silly. "I know it sounds strange. It’s just… being stuck in the city all the time, I don’t get to see much of the world outside these streets."

He didn’t laugh or brush it off like most people would have. Instead, Logan looked at you for a moment, his expression serious.

"Maybe one day," he said quietly, "you’ll get that cabin. Find some peace."

There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat, but before you could respond, a commotion erupted a few stalls down. Edwin and Phillip came barreling toward you, laughing and out of breath, their hands full of something they clearly weren’t supposed to have.

"Y/N!" Edwin shouted, holding up a small sack of apples. "Look what we got!"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "And how exactly did you 'get' those?"

Phillip, ever the quieter one, shifted nervously on his feet. "We didn’t steal them! Mr. Turner gave them to us after we helped him with his cart."

You glanced over to where Mr. Turner, a kind old man who often sold apples at the market, was smiling and waving in your direction.

"Alright," you said, sighing with relief. "But you’d better not be causing any trouble."

Logan chuckled under his breath, watching the boys with amusement. "They’re just having fun."

"Yeah, until someone gets hurt," you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile at their excitement.

Edwin, noticing Logan for the first time, grinned. "Hey, Logan! You ever been in a real fight?"

Logan smirked, glancing at you before turning back to the boys. "A couple."

Edwin’s eyes lit up. "Tell us about one!"

"Edwin," you warned, shaking your head. "Logan doesn’t have time to tell you all his stories."

But Logan didn’t seem to mind. He crouched down to the boys’ level, his expression serious as he spoke in that low, gravelly voice of his.

"Alright, but just one. There was this guy… big, tough-looking fella, thought he could take me down. We were out in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles. He comes at me with this huge stick, thinking that’ll be enough."

Edwin and Phillip leaned in, wide-eyed, hanging on every word.

"So, what happened?" Edwin asked, barely able to contain himself.

Logan’s smirk deepened. "Let’s just say, he learned real quick not to mess with me."

The boys erupted into laughter, completely captivated by the idea of Logan taking down some big, burly guy.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. "You’re gonna give them ideas, you know."

Logan stood, shrugging casually. "Kids need a little excitement."

"Not too much," you muttered, though you were grateful for the way he interacted with them. Most men in the city didn’t have the patience for children, especially not boys as wild as Edwin and Phillip.

As the boys ran off again, Logan glanced over at you, his expression softening just a bit.

"They look up to you," he said quietly.

You looked down, shrugging. "They’re good kids. Just need someone to look after them."

Logan was quiet for a moment, watching the boys as they disappeared into the crowd. Then, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him, he turned back to you.

"You ever think about having your own?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You hadn’t really thought about it—not seriously, anyway. Your life was too full of other people’s children, other people’s problems.

"I don’t know," you said slowly, glancing up at him. "Maybe someday. If I ever get that cabin, I might think about it."

Logan nodded, but didn’t say anything more. He just walked beside you, the two of you falling back into that easy, comfortable silence.

It wasn’t until later, as you lay in bed that night, that you found yourself thinking about his question again. The idea of a quiet life, away from the noise and chaos of the city, didn’t seem so impossible anymore—not when you imagined Logan there with you.

---

One night, after you had put the boys to sleep and were in Ada’s room to read a story to her, she asked you a question. “Why aren’t you like mama and papa?”

You raised your head from the book you were reading to her, “what do you mean?”

Her lips formed a small pout, “mama has papa, but you don’t have anyone.”

You blinked, caught off guard by Ada’s question. Her innocent curiosity made your heart ache, but you kept your voice steady.

“Well, sweetie,” you started, trying to find the right words, “sometimes, people are just on their own for a little while. It doesn’t mean they won’t find someone. Maybe they just haven’t yet.”

Ada considered this, her small brow furrowed in thought. “But you’re so nice. Why doesn’t anyone love you?”

The simplicity of the question stung more than it should have. You chuckled softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s not that simple, Ada. But thank you for saying that.”

She didn’t seem satisfied with your answer, her tiny face still scrunched up in confusion. “Don’t you get lonely?”

You hesitated, glancing out the window at the darkening sky. The truth was, sometimes you did. Even though you were surrounded by people—taking care of the children, managing the house—you couldn’t deny that feeling creeping in every now and then.

“I have you, don’t I?” you finally said, smiling down at her. “And Edwin and Phillip. You three keep me pretty busy.”

Ada giggled softly at that, settling into her blankets. “I guess. But I think you should find someone, like mama did.”

You gave her a light kiss on the forehead, smoothing down her hair. “Maybe one day, kiddo.”

Ada yawned, her eyes drooping as sleep crept up on her. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Ada,” you whispered, watching her drift off. You stayed there for a moment longer, thinking about her words, before quietly slipping out of the room.

The house was silent as you made your way down the hall, but your mind was anything but. Her innocent question stirred something inside of you, a longing that you hadn’t let yourself fully acknowledge. It wasn’t like you to dwell on what you didn’t have, but maybe… maybe Ada was right. Maybe there was something missing.

But it wasn’t something you could focus on right now. You had responsibilities. This family depended on you, and that was enough for now. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

As you reached your room and closed the door behind you, you caught sight of the bouquet of wildflowers Logan had quietly bought earlier in the day. You hadn’t noticed him purchase them at the market, but when you returned to the house, they were there on the doorstep, a small note attached that simply read, Thought you’d like these.

You smiled to yourself, gently picking up the flowers and placing them in a vase by the window. You hadn’t thought much about having someone of your own, but as you looked at the flowers, you couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like.

And, for the first time in a long while, the idea didn’t seem so far away.

---

The next few days passed quietly, with Logan visiting you at the market more frequently, though neither of you mentioned the wildflowers. There was an unspoken understanding between you—neither of you rushed things, but the connection was undeniably growing.

One afternoon, as you sat outside with Ada on your lap, reading her a story, Logan appeared at the gate. The children spotted him first, of course, and Edwin ran over, grinning ear to ear.

“Logan! You’re back!” he shouted, tugging at Logan’s coat. “Did you bring us any stories?”

Logan gave a soft grunt, glancing over at you with a smirk. “I might have one or two left.”

You shook your head, amused. “They’ll never leave you alone if you keep telling them stories, you know.”

Logan crouched down, ruffling Edwin’s hair. “I don’t mind,” he said, his gaze softening as he glanced at Ada in your lap. “How’re you doin’, kid?”

Ada looked up from the book and smiled shyly, giving him a small wave. “Hi, Logan.”

He smiled, the sight of the children always easing something in him, though he didn’t let it show too much.

As the kids ran off to play, Logan took a seat beside you on the bench. The two of you sat in silence for a while, watching the children chase each other across the yard.

“They’re good kids,” Logan said finally, breaking the quiet.

“They are,” you agreed. “They’ve got a lot of love to give, and not always enough people around to give it to.”

Logan turned his head slightly, his eyes studying you. “That include you?”

You looked down, fidgeting with your skirt. “Maybe. I spend so much time looking after everyone else, sometimes I forget there’s more to life than just… this.”

Logan didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly. Then, his voice low, he asked, “You ever think about finding something more?”

You turned to him, surprised by the question. “I don’t know if I’ve let myself think that far ahead,” you admitted, your heart beating a little faster under his gaze.

Logan looked away, his jaw tightening slightly as if he was holding something back. “Maybe you should.”

The weight of his words lingered in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt a pull—a possibility of something beyond the life you’d built here. Something you hadn’t allowed yourself to dream about until now.

But before either of you could say more, the children’s laughter echoed through the yard, and the moment passed. Still, the feeling stayed with you long after Logan left that evening.

---

The sky had taken on that soft orange hue of evening, the kind that made the whole world feel suspended between day and night. You and Logan walked side by side along the Hudson River, the sound of water gently lapping against the shore mixing with the distant hum of the city. It had become your routine over the past few weeks, these evening walks—quiet, almost intimate, even though neither of you said much.

Today, though, something felt different. Logan had been quieter than usual, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the fading sunlight. Every now and then, you’d catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, as if there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

Logan nodded, though his expression didn’t quite match the motion. “Yeah, just… thinkin’.”

“About?”

He stopped walking, turning to face the river. You followed his gaze, watching the way the sun’s reflection danced on the surface of the water. After a long moment, he spoke.

“I’ve never really… had this before,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Y’know, just… bein’ with someone like this. Feels kinda strange.”

You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, close enough that your arm brushed against his. “Strange in a good way?”

Logan let out a short, almost nervous chuckle. “Yeah. In a good way.”

The two of you stood there, side by side, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. You could feel the warmth of his presence, his arm just barely touching yours, and it sent a small thrill through you. You hadn’t been sure at first if what you felt for Logan was mutual—he was quiet, reserved, hard to read—but moments like this, when the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, made it clear. There was something unspoken between you, something neither of you had dared to put into words.

After a while, you turned to face him, studying the way his brow was furrowed, like he was deep in thought.

“Logan,” you said softly.

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a kind of intensity that made your heart skip a beat. For a moment, neither of you moved, the air thick with something unsaid.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out and took his hand, your fingers slipping into his. Logan stiffened at the touch, his eyes flicking down to where your hands were joined, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he stepped closer, his fingers curling around yours, holding on a little tighter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before either,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s gaze softened, his usual guarded expression cracking just enough to let something more vulnerable show through. He hesitated, like he was trying to find the right words, but then decided words weren’t necessary.

Instead, he took a small step forward, his free hand coming up to gently cup the side of your face. His touch was warm, rough, but there was a surprising tenderness in the way his thumb brushed lightly against your cheek. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, his eyes flicking between yours as if asking for permission.

When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance.

The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But the second your lips met his, something inside you seemed to melt, and you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. Logan responded in kind, his grip on your hand tightening as he pulled you closer, the space between you disappearing entirely.

For a moment, it was just the two of you—the sound of the river fading away, the world narrowing down to the warmth of Logan’s lips against yours, the feel of his hand cradling your face like you were something precious.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing a little heavier, your foreheads resting against each other as you stood there, wrapped in the soft glow of the setting sun.

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a small, almost sheepish smile. “Didn’t think I’d be kissin’ you tonight.”

You laughed softly, still a little breathless. “Neither did I.”

He pulled you closer, resting his chin on top of your head as he held you against him. The two of you stood there in the fading light, wrapped up in each other, the world beyond the river momentarily forgotten.

---

Logan thought back to your conversation about living in a cabin more than he cared to admit. The thought of it seemed nice, peaceful, and dare he say it perfect.

After a few weeks of being together, Logan had made a decision and scrounged up any money he could before buying a modest ring from a jeweler. He wasn’t going to propose yet but carrying the ring in his pocket felt right.

He had been coming over to the Thomases’ sprawling estate more often, whether it was walking with you from the market to the large house or even just stopping by of his own will. At first, it had been an occasional thing—a quiet visit here, a quick walk there—but lately, Logan found himself looking for excuses just to be around. You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the way your eyes lit up when you saw him made him feel something unfamiliar, something good.

One late afternoon, Logan leaned against the garden gate, watching as you knelt by a row of flowers, tending to them with your usual care. He couldn’t help but admire the sight—your sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled from the breeze, a small smile on your lips as you worked. It made something in his chest tighten. He fingered the ring in his pocket, feeling its weight. He had no plan to use it anytime soon, but carrying it felt right, like a promise to himself.

You glanced up, catching his eye, and smiled, wiping your hands on your apron as you stood. "Back again, Logan?"

"Guess so," he replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thought you might need a hand."

"Well, I could always use one," you teased, stepping closer to him. "But you don’t strike me as the gardening type."

Logan chuckled, reaching out to take your hand, pulling you a little closer. "Not much of a gardener, no. But I can stand here and look good while you do all the work."

You rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t let go of his hand. The easy banter between you had become natural, and the affection between you had grown, unspoken but undeniable. After a moment, you tugged him toward a bench under a nearby tree.

“Sit with me for a minute,” you said softly. “I’ve been out here all day.”

He followed, sitting beside you as the evening breeze rustled the leaves above. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun began to set. Logan glanced at you from the corner of his eye, the warm light catching the curve of your face.

“You ever think this is enough?” he asked suddenly, his voice quiet but clear.

You looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”

Logan hesitated, his fingers still laced with yours. “Just… this. Bein’ together. Doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.”

You smiled softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I think it is enough,” you said after a moment. “I like this, Logan. I like us.”

His heart beat a little faster at your words, and without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it felt natural, like something he’d been wanting to do for a while. You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes, your lips curving into a gentle smile.

“You keep that up, and I’m never gonna let you go,” you teased, though there was something softer, almost serious, in your tone.

Logan smirked, pulling you closer until your legs brushed against his. “Don’t see a reason to.”

Your fingers traced absent patterns on the back of his hand, your touch light and thoughtful. “You know, I used to wonder if I’d ever feel this way about someone,” you admitted softly, your eyes focused on your hands. “If I’d ever meet someone who made me feel… like this.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, watching you, feeling the warmth of your words settle deep inside him. He’d never thought he’d find someone who made him feel like this either—like he didn’t have to keep moving, like maybe he’d found something worth staying for. He wanted to tell you that, to say what he was feeling, but the words stuck in his throat. So instead, he squeezed your hand, hoping you’d understand what he couldn’t say yet.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The connection between you, the pull, was undeniable. Logan leaned in, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, tender, like both of you were taking your time, savoring the moment. When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and for a second, the world outside the garden didn’t exist.

“I could stay like this forever,” you whispered, your breath warm against his lips.

Logan’s hand tightened on yours. “Maybe we will,” he murmured back, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

You smiled, your eyes soft as you leaned in and kissed him again, slow and sweet. When you pulled back this time, you didn’t say anything, just settled into his side, your head resting against his chest as the two of you watched the sky shift into shades of pink and orange.

The world outside may have been complicated, full of responsibilities and noise, but here, with Logan beside you, it felt simple. Peaceful. Like this was all that mattered.

---

One late afternoon, you were sitting on the porch with Ada and the boys, telling them stories while they played at your feet. Logan leaned against the fence, watching you from a distance, his heart swelling at the sight of you surrounded by the children, laughing and carefree.

“You look like you’re thinkin’ about somethin’ serious,” your voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. You stood up, walking over to him, a teasing smile on your face.

Logan shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just thinkin’ about how you handle those kids like it’s nothin’.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Trust me, it’s something. They’re a handful.”

Logan smiled, reaching out to take your hand. “You’re good at it. I like watchin’ you with them.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his compliment, and you glanced down, trying to hide the small smile playing at your lips. “Well, you’re not so bad with them yourself. Edwin won’t stop talking about that story you told him.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Kid’s got a wild imagination.”

You leaned in closer, your fingers playing with the hem of his sleeve. “Maybe he gets that from you.”

He smirked, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “Think so?”

“I know so,” you whispered, your breath brushing against his neck.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of you, standing in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Logan’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin before he leaned down and kissed you, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of your lips against his.

When he pulled back, your eyes were half-closed, your expression soft and content. “Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What are we doing?”

He looked at you, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your cheek. “Doin’ what feels right.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah. It does feel right.”

The sound of the children’s laughter broke the quiet moment between you, and you both turned to see Ada running toward you, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could. “Y/N! Y/N!” she shouted, her face flushed with excitement. “Come play with us!”

You laughed, pulling away from Logan just enough to crouch down and catch Ada in your arms. “Alright, alright! I’m coming.”

As you stood, you glanced back at Logan, your eyes lingering on him for a moment longer. He gave you a small nod, his lips quirking into a smile, and you turned back to the children, running off with them into the yard.

Logan watched you for a while longer, his hand slipping into his pocket where the small ring rested. It wasn’t time yet, but someday, maybe he’d ask. Someday, when the moment was right.

For now, this was enough.

And for the first time in his life, that was all Logan wanted.

---

“Mrs. Thomas is sick. She wanted me to pick up some things for her before the doctor comes to check her out,” you explained, adding a sprig of thyme to your basket and handing the vendor a coin.

Logan stood beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets, watching you with a casual ease that had become second nature to him. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked, though his tone wasn’t heavy—just curious.

You shrugged, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Probably just a cold. She’s been coughing a bit, but Mr. Thomas thinks she’ll be fine.”

Logan’s jaw ticked slightly, his eyes following the movement of your hand as it tucked the hair behind your ear. “You sure you should be around her if she’s sick?”

You smiled at his concern, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “It’s part of the job, Logan. Besides, I’ve been with her every day. If I was going to get sick, it would’ve happened by now.”

He frowned, not entirely convinced, but let it drop. You were stubborn like that—always brushing things off when they concerned you.

As you moved from stall to stall, picking out fresh herbs, bread, and tea, Logan trailed beside you, a silent presence at your side. It was comfortable—natural, even. You could feel him close, his arm brushing yours now and then, and though neither of you said much, it was the kind of quiet that felt good.

When you handed the grocer a coin for a small loaf of bread, Logan’s voice broke the easy silence. “You want me to walk you back?”

You glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Trying to sneak more time with me?”

Logan grinned, his hands still tucked in his coat pockets. “Maybe.”

Your laugh was soft and warm, and Logan swore it was one of his favorite sounds.

“You don’t have to, but I won’t say no if you want to,” you teased, shifting the basket on your hip. “The Thomases live all the way across town, though.”

Logan rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Don’t mind.”

With that settled, the two of you set off toward the Thomases’ estate, falling into step beside each other. The streets bustled with the usual afternoon crowds—vendors hawking their goods, carts rattling down cobbled roads, children darting through the streets. Yet somehow, it felt like the two of you existed in your own little world, insulated from the noise of the city.

“You been working much?” you asked after a moment, glancing sideways at him.

Logan nodded. “Yeah. Couple of odd jobs here and there.”

“Same ones?”

“Mostly.” He paused, as if debating whether to say more. Then, with a smirk, he added, “Not much call for a guy like me who’s no good with flowers.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy. “Well, I’m sure someone will take pity on you eventually.”

He bumped his shoulder against yours gently. “You already did.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. “Lucky you.”

The walk was long, but neither of you minded. You pointed out things along the way—shops you liked, shortcuts you’d found, little bits of the city you’d come to know well in your time working for the Thomases. Logan listened, his attention fixed on you, and though he didn’t say much, you could tell he was soaking up every word.

When the two of you reached the tall iron gates of the Thomases' estate, you hesitated, lingering just a bit longer with Logan at the edge of the garden.

“Thanks for walking me,” you said softly, your fingers brushing over his for the briefest second.

“Anytime,” he murmured, catching your hand before you could pull it away. He gave it a squeeze, his eyes lingering on yours. “You alright?”

You nodded. “I’m fine, Logan. Just worried about Mrs. Thomas, I guess.”

He studied you for a beat longer, his thumb absentmindedly brushing the back of your hand. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

You gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand in return. “Yeah. I will.”

Neither of you moved at first, as if caught in a moment you weren’t quite ready to let go of. Logan’s gaze flickered to your lips, and for a second, you thought he might kiss you—right there at the gate, with the late afternoon sun warming your skin and the scent of lavender drifting from the garden.

But instead, he leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to leave you breathless.

“See you soon,” he murmured against your skin.

You swallowed, your heart thudding in your chest. “See you soon,” you whispered back.

Logan stepped away, his hands reluctantly slipping from yours, and you watched as he made his way back down the path. He didn’t look back, but somehow, you knew that he felt the same pull you did—the one that always seemed to draw you closer, no matter how far apart you were.

With a soft sigh, you turned and pushed open the gate, your basket swinging gently at your side as you made your way toward the house. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn.

You didn’t know it yet, but the weight of that moment—of Logan’s hand in yours, of the way his kiss had felt against your skin—would stay with you. It would become one of those memories you’d carry in the quiet hours, long after everything had changed.

But for now, it was just another afternoon. And that was enough.

You slipped inside the Thomases’ estate, greeted by the familiar smell of baked bread and lavender from the garden. The children’s laughter echoed faintly from upstairs, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the unease you felt about Mrs. Thomas.

As you moved through the grand hallway, the weight of Logan’s lingering kiss on your temple stayed with you, soft and comforting. His presence, though absent now, always seemed to cling to the air around you like the warmth of a hearth after a long day.

“Y/N!” Edwin’s voice called from the top of the stairs. You looked up to find him peering down at you, his unruly curls falling into his eyes. “Can we go to the park after tea? Phillip says he can run faster than me, but I bet I’ll beat him this time.”

You smiled up at him, though your thoughts were still on Mrs. Thomas. “We’ll see about that, Edwin. But let’s check in on your mother first, alright?”

He nodded, though his face fell a little, understanding the importance of that moment.

Making your way to Mrs. Thomas’s room, you found the air heavier, a staleness clinging to it that made you pause at the door. You knocked softly before entering, the creak of the door barely disturbing the quiet. Mrs. Thomas lay in bed, propped up by pillows, her face pale and drawn. Her once vibrant eyes were duller now, and the small cough you had heard earlier seemed more persistent, rattling in her chest.

“Mrs. Thomas,” you said gently, approaching her bedside with the basket of fresh supplies. “I’ve brought some thyme and tea. The doctor will be here later this week.”

Mrs. Thomas offered a faint smile, though it barely touched her lips. “Thank you, dear. You’re always so thoughtful,” she said, her voice raspy. She shifted slightly, wincing at the effort it took. “I’m sure it’s just a little cold.”

You forced a smile, though something inside you tugged with worry. “Of course. Just a little cold.”

After a few more moments, you excused yourself, promising to return later. The house felt stifling, the sense of something being wrong making your chest tighten. Logan had been right to be concerned. But you brushed it aside, focusing on the children.

A few hours later, after Edwin had indeed beaten Phillip in a race through the park, and Ada had insisted on collecting wildflowers for her mother, the three children were settled with tea. You were cleaning up the kitchen when a familiar knock came at the back door.

Opening it, you found Logan leaning against the frame, that easy smile already softening the tension in your shoulders.

“Thought you might like some company,” he said, stepping inside and pulling you into a gentle embrace. The warmth of his arms around you instantly melted away the weight of the afternoon, and for a moment, you simply leaned into him, breathing him in.

“Good timing,” you murmured into his chest. “The kids are winding down for the night. Edwin’s convinced he’s going to be the fastest man in the world.”

Logan chuckled, his chest vibrating against your cheek. “Is that so? Guess I’ll have to challenge him one day.”

You smiled, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “He’d love that.”

There was a beat of quiet as Logan’s hand came up to brush a stray hair from your face, his thumb lingering just under your jaw. His gaze softened, searching yours for something. It was moments like this—small, tender—that reminded you just how much you’d come to care for him in these past few weeks.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Just… worried about Mrs. Thomas. I don’t know, Logan, she seems worse than she’s letting on.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, his hands slipping down to rest on your waist. “She’s tough, right? She’ll pull through.”

You nodded again, though the doubt lingered. “I hope so.”

Logan leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, the weight of his presence anchoring you. “You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

“I will,” you whispered, your hands resting on his chest.

He pulled back just enough to catch your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It was familiar, the way his mouth moved against yours—steady, comforting, with that undercurrent of longing that always seemed to simmer just beneath the surface between you two. When you finally parted, his thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze still locked on yours.

“I hate leaving you here,” he murmured, the frustration clear in his voice. “Especially with her sick.”

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine, Logan. Go home, get some rest.”

He gave a small grunt, clearly not thrilled with the idea of leaving, but he knew better than to argue when you got like this—determined and stubborn.

With a sigh, he leaned in once more, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “Alright. But I’m checking in tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you teased, though the warmth in your chest grew at his protectiveness.

Logan gave you one last smile before turning to head back out into the night, his coat swaying as he disappeared into the shadows. You watched him go, the familiar tug in your chest pulling at you again, but this time it wasn’t just affection. It was worry—a gnawing sense of unease that had been creeping in since that afternoon in the market.

You stood there at the back door for a moment longer, staring into the empty street, wondering if Logan could feel it too—the quiet, unspoken fear that something was about to change.

---

The next few days passed quietly, the routine of the Thomases’ household carrying on as usual—though the coughs from Mrs. Thomas’s room seemed to grow more frequent, more strained. You tried not to think too much of it, telling yourself it was only a cold, that the doctor would sort it out when he came to visit. But there was a part of you, small but insistent, that couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at your thoughts.

The children kept you busy, of course. Edwin was endlessly energetic, challenging Phillip to races and daring Ada to climb the low trees in the garden, much to your chagrin. Ada, sweet and delicate, clung to your side like a shadow, her small hand often finding yours as she babbled on about her imaginary tea parties and grand adventures. In their presence, it was easy to forget the worry in the back of your mind—at least for a little while.

But then, in the quiet moments—like when you helped Mrs. Thomas to her bed after one of her coughing fits, or when the house seemed far too still after the children had fallen asleep—your thoughts would drift back to Logan. To the way he had kissed your forehead that day at the back door, how his hand had lingered in yours just a second longer than usual, as if he’d sensed it too. That something was wrong.

You found yourself waiting for him. Every evening, as the sun dipped low over the city and the shadows lengthened in the streets, you listened for that familiar knock at the back door. And every evening, without fail, he would come—never too late, never too early, always arriving when you needed him most.

Tonight was no different.

You were sitting at the small table in the kitchen, a pot of tea cooling beside you, when the soft knock came. A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it, your heart lifting in that familiar way as you crossed the room and opened the door.

Logan stood there, his dark hair slightly tousled from the evening breeze, his expression soft but watchful. He gave you that crooked smile that always seemed to make everything feel lighter, as if the world wasn’t such a heavy place when he was around.

“Thought I might find you here,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

You shrugged, the smile still playing on your lips. “Where else would I be?”

He chuckled, moving to lean against the counter, his eyes flicking briefly to the teapot on the table. “You drinking alone?”

“For now,” you teased, pouring him a cup. “But I suppose I can share.”

Logan took the cup from you, his fingers brushing yours in that familiar way, sending a small, warm spark through your skin. He didn’t move to sit, though. Instead, he stayed close, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to read something in your face.

“What?” you asked softly, the weight of his stare making your heart flutter.

“Just checking in,” he said, his voice lower, more serious than before. “You look tired.”

You gave a small, weary laugh, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Logan. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Mrs. Thomas?” he guessed, sipping his tea.

You nodded, glancing at the floor. “She’s getting worse. I’m trying not to worry, but… I don’t know, something doesn’t feel right.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, and he set his cup down, moving to stand beside you. His hand came up to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of your sleeve. “If you need me to do anything—get more medicine, fetch the doctor sooner—you just say the word.”

You met his gaze, your chest tightening at the concern etched into his face. He always made you feel safe, even when you didn’t want to admit how scared you were. You reached up, covering his hand with yours, squeezing it gently.

“I know,” you murmured. “Thank you.”

For a moment, the room was quiet again, the sounds of the city muted by the walls of the house. You could hear the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth, the distant hum of life outside, but here, in this small space, it felt like it was just the two of you. Just the two of you, and the warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

Logan shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully, his other hand coming to rest at your waist. He tugged you closer, his expression softening as he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in that tender way that always made your heart skip. But this time, he didn’t stop there. He tilted your chin up gently, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“C’mere,” he whispered, and you didn’t need any more coaxing.

Your arms slid up around his neck, pulling him in as his lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was soft at first, tender, but there was a quiet intensity behind it, a sense of urgency you hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the weight of the unspoken worry hanging between you, or maybe it was just that every time you kissed him, it felt like it could be the last. Either way, you melted into him, savoring the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his hands tightened around your waist as if he didn’t want to let you go.

When you finally pulled back, your breath mingling with his, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he let out a long, slow sigh.

“Stay with me tonight,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You hadn’t meant to say it, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them. The thought of being alone with your worries, of facing the uncertainty of Mrs. Thomas’s illness by yourself, suddenly felt unbearable.

Logan’s eyes opened, his gaze soft but searching as he studied your face. “You sure?”

You nodded, your hands still resting at the nape of his neck. “I just… I don’t want to be alone.”

He didn’t hesitate after that. With a soft, reassuring smile, he nodded and pressed another kiss to your temple. “Alright. I’m here.”

---

The doctor had come by some days later bringing by news, Mrs. Thomas had tuberculosis. He gave her at least another month to live.

Mr. Thomas had instructed you to not let the kids near her as often, to make sure they don’t get sick. He didn’t seem to care much about Logan spending the night with you, or letting the kids be around him.

Logan had been spending more nights with you, by your request. It wasn’t something you talked about, just a quiet understanding between the two of you. The nights felt warmer with him beside you, the weight of the world a little lighter when you could lean against him. He never made a big deal out of it either. It was just...natural.

Tonight was no different. You sat by the fire in the small parlor, the children long since asleep upstairs. The flicker of the flames cast shadows across the room, and you caught yourself glancing toward the door, waiting for that familiar knock.

When it came, it was soft, almost hesitant. But you smiled, already rising to your feet to let him in. Logan stepped inside, brushing off the chill of the night as he shook the snow from his coat.

“Snow’s picking up out there,” he muttered, shrugging off the heavy coat and hanging it by the door. “Thought I’d get here before it got too bad.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as you watched him. “I’m glad you did.”

He crossed the room, and without another word, his arms wrapped around you. You melted into his chest, resting your head against him as the fire crackled in the hearth. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand running down your back.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice low. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

You sighed, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s… everything with Mrs. Thomas, the kids… I’m trying to keep it together.”

Logan frowned, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. “You don’t have to do it all yourself. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you said softly. “But I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t,” he repeated, his eyes searching yours. “I’m here.”

That simple statement hit you harder than you expected. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. He responded instantly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss as if he needed it as much as you did. It was slow and tender, and you found yourself pulling him closer, trying to forget the weight of everything else, if only for a moment.

When you finally pulled back, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“You should sleep,” he whispered. “You’re exhausted.”

“Will you stay?” you asked, your voice small.

“Always,” he said without hesitation.

---

The nights blurred together. Logan was there more often than not, sometimes waiting for you when you finished putting the children to bed, other times arriving late after a day spent working. You hadn’t asked where he went during the day, and he hadn’t volunteered the information. It didn’t matter. When he was with you, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

The children, especially Ada, had continued asking why she couldn’t see her mother as often. It had broke your heart to tell her and the boys that their mom was sick, not going any further than that.

“They’ll understand one day,” Logan had said, trying to comfort you as you sat by the fire one evening. His arm was around your shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm.

You nodded, but the heaviness in your chest wouldn’t lift.

“I just want to help,” you murmured. “But I can’t.”

Logan was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low. “You’re doing more than you think, Y/N. Just being here for the kids, for her... it matters.”

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. There was something in the way he looked at you, something deeper than the usual concern. It was a look that made your heart skip, that made you realize just how much he had become a part of your life in such a short time.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before brushing his lips against yours in a slow, gentle kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing that connection, needing him.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Logan’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his touch soothing.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, as if the words alone could make everything right.

And for a moment, they did.

---

You could tell that after a month and a half, Mrs. Thomas didn’t have much time left. Maybe a week at the most. She was so young, barely 30 years old, and already having to face the inevitable. Her coughing had become more violent, her body thinner with each passing day, and the sparkle in her eyes was gone. She was fading right before your eyes.

It had been a long day. The kids were more restless than usual, likely sensing the shift in the household. You’d spent most of the afternoon calming Edwin and Ada while trying to keep Phillip out of trouble. Ada, in particular, had been clingy, holding onto your skirt as you moved about the house, asking you why her mother wasn’t coming out of her room anymore.

You gave her the same answer as always. “Your mama’s just resting, sweetheart.”

But even she seemed to sense something was off.

By the time the sun had started to set, you felt the exhaustion in your bones. You barely touched your dinner, pushing food around your plate before giving up entirely. It wasn’t just the physical tiredness, though. It was something deeper. A strange ache in your chest, one you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the weight of everything—Mrs. Thomas’s worsening condition, the children, Logan...

You hadn’t seen him tonight, and that small part of you that had grown used to his presence felt the void acutely. He had a way of grounding you, of making everything seem less overwhelming, if only for a little while. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were beginning to rely on him more and more.

As you climbed the stairs to check on the children, your steps felt heavier than usual. Fatigue, you told yourself. Just fatigue.

When you entered Mrs. Thomas’s room to help her settle for the night, she gave you a weak smile. “Thank you, Y/N... for everything.”

You smiled back, brushing her hair away from her face as you helped her lie down. “Don’t mention it. You just rest.”

Her breathing was shallow, the sound rattling in her chest. You tried not to let it show on your face, but inside, that gnawing worry had grown into a full-fledged fear. You knew the end was coming soon. You just hoped the children wouldn’t have to watch her fade.

---

Later that night, after the house had fallen quiet and the children were asleep, you sat by the small fire in the kitchen. You stared at the flickering flames, trying to let the warmth chase away the chill in your bones, but it wasn’t working.

You weren’t surprised when you heard the soft knock at the back door. Logan’s timing had always been impeccable, showing up when you needed him most, even if you hadn’t called for him. You rose from your seat and opened the door, letting him in with a small, tired smile.

“Cold out there,” he muttered, brushing the snow from his shoulders before stepping inside. He took one look at your face, and his brows furrowed. “You look exhausted, Y/N.”

You waved him off, shutting the door behind him. “It’s been a long day. Mrs. Thomas is...”

He didn’t need you to finish. He’d been coming by enough to know how bad things had gotten.

Logan crossed the small space between you and placed a hand on your arm. “You should be resting too. When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

You let out a tired laugh, shaking your head. “What is that again?”

“Y/N,” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and concern. “You can’t keep running yourself ragged. You’re no good to the kids if you get sick.”

His words hit a little too close to home. That lingering ache in your chest hadn’t gone away, and now, with him standing so close, it seemed to press harder, making it difficult to breathe. You ignored it, trying to focus on his warm hand still resting on your arm, grounding you.

“I’ll be fine,” you said quietly, leaning against him just slightly. “I just... I need you here. That’s all.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he slipped his arms around you, pulling you close. You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes as his warmth enveloped you. It felt like everything else faded away when you were in his arms—like the weight of the world wasn’t quite so heavy.

“I’m here,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just holding onto him, letting his presence soothe the anxiety that had been gnawing at you all day. His hands ran up and down your back in slow, soothing motions, and you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders sagging as the tension melted away.

But that ache in your chest didn’t fade. If anything, it seemed to settle deeper, a dull, persistent throb that you couldn’t quite shake.

“I don’t know how much longer she has,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Maybe a week. And the kids... I don’t know how to explain it to them.”

Logan sighed, his breath warm against your hair. “You’ll find the right words when the time comes. You always do.”

You weren’t sure about that, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands still resting against his chest. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you could see the same worry you felt reflected in his gaze. But there was something else too—something softer, something that made your heart skip a beat.

Before you could say anything, Logan leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed or urgent—just gentle, like he was trying to tell you without words that he was there, that you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

You kissed him back, your fingers curling into his shirt as you pulled him closer. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you, the world outside forgotten. But when you finally pulled back, the ache in your chest flared again, sharper this time, making you wince slightly.

Logan’s eyes narrowed, concern flashing across his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, brushing it off. “Just... tired, I guess.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it either. Instead, he kissed your forehead softly, his hands still holding you close. “You need to sleep. I’ll stay with you, okay?”

You nodded, letting him lead you to your small bedroom. As you lay down, Logan settled beside you, his arm draped around your waist as he pulled you close. You nestled against him, the warmth of his body soothing, but even as you drifted off to sleep, that strange ache lingered, a quiet reminder that something wasn’t right.

---

Over the next few days, you tried to ignore the fatigue that seemed to cling to you like a heavy blanket. You told yourself it was just the stress, the worry about Mrs. Thomas and the kids. But the truth was, deep down, you knew it was more than that.

Mr. Thomas had been around the house more often, spending almost every moment with his wife before she passed. It would only be a matter of days now. Her condition had deteriorated to the point where she was barely conscious most of the time, her labored breathing a constant reminder of the inevitable.

You moved quietly through the house, keeping the children occupied as best you could. Edwin and Phillip were rambunctious as always, but Ada had grown more subdued. She didn’t ask about her mother as often, as if sensing the unspoken truth everyone was trying to shield her from. You noticed how she clung to your side even more than usual, her small hands gripping your skirts, her wide eyes watching you with a kind of quiet understanding that broke your heart.

It was late afternoon, and the house was eerily quiet. The children were playing in the parlor, their laughter muffled behind the closed doors. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when a wave of exhaustion hit you. Your legs felt heavy, your chest tight. You hadn’t been sleeping well, the stress of Mrs. Thomas’s condition weighing on you, but this was different. Your appetite had been lacking for days, though you’d convinced yourself it was just nerves.

You leaned against the counter, taking a slow, deep breath to steady yourself. It would pass. You just needed rest.

Logan wasn’t due to visit tonight. He had mentioned something about work keeping him late, and you didn’t want to ask him to come by, though the ache in your chest—the one you tried to ignore—longed for his presence.

Shaking off the lingering fatigue, you made your way upstairs to check on Mrs. Thomas. As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard her soft, raspy breathing. You hesitated outside the door, your hand resting on the doorknob for a moment, before slowly opening it and stepping inside.

Mr. Thomas sat at his wife’s bedside, holding her hand gently. He glanced up at you, his face pale and drawn, the exhaustion of weeks of worry evident in his eyes. You gave him a small, comforting smile, though you weren’t sure how much comfort you could offer.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said quietly, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep and emotion. "For everything."

You nodded, moving to the other side of the bed to check on Mrs. Thomas. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and uneven. She didn’t stir when you adjusted the blankets around her. The room was stifling, the air heavy with the scent of sickness, and you fought the urge to cough, your throat suddenly dry.

“She’s peaceful,” you murmured softly, glancing at Mr. Thomas.

He nodded but didn’t say anything. His gaze was fixed on his wife, his hand never leaving hers.

You stayed for a moment longer, but the fatigue creeping up your spine forced you to excuse yourself. As you descended the stairs, your legs felt weaker than before, and a dull ache had settled in your chest. You rubbed absently at your throat, trying to shake off the discomfort. It was nothing, you told yourself. Just tired.

The evening stretched on, the children finally quieting down for bed. You tucked them in, lingering for a moment by Ada’s bedside. She reached for your hand, her tiny fingers curling around yours.

“Will Mama be better soon?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. “She’s resting, sweetheart,” you said softly. “Just keep being brave, alright?”

Ada nodded, her eyes already heavy with sleep, though the worry didn’t leave her small face.

Once they were all asleep, you returned downstairs, your body feeling heavier with each step. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting long shadows across the room. You sat by the fireplace, staring into the dying flames, and let the silence of the house settle over you.

And then there was a soft knock at the back door.

Your heart lifted despite the exhaustion weighing you down. You rose slowly and crossed the room, opening the door to find Logan standing there, snowflakes dusting his hair and coat. He gave you a crooked smile, his eyes scanning your face with concern.

“You look tired,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Really tired.”

“I’m fine,” you murmured, though the weariness in your voice betrayed you. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I finished earlier than I thought,” he said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it by the door. “Thought I’d check on you.”

Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You melted into him, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of his body seeped into yours. For a moment, the ache in your chest seemed to ease, the fatigue lifting just a little.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Logan pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he studied your face. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your skin. “I’m here.”

His lips met yours in a slow, tender kiss, and you felt the tension in your body begin to unravel. The warmth of his mouth, the familiar strength of his hands holding you close—it was all you needed in that moment. When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“You need to rest,” he murmured. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I will,” you promised, though you didn’t want to leave his arms just yet. You leaned into him, letting his presence chase away the exhaustion for a little longer.

---

The funeral was only 6 days later, 4 days after Mrs. Thomas’ passing. She was buried at the Prospect Cemetery at a small affair with rich people you had only heard of in passing.

The funeral was a somber affair. Mrs. Thomas was laid to rest under a sky that threatened snow, and you stood a little ways back, holding Ada’s hand tightly. She had been unusually quiet since her mother’s passing, and even Edwin and Phillip had sensed the weight of the occasion, their usual energy tempered by the somber mood.

You glanced around at the crowd gathered—a sea of dark, expensive fabrics, murmured condolences, and familiar faces. Most of the people you recognized only by name or through brief encounters at the Thomas house. They didn’t seem to belong to the world you inhabited, their whispered conversations and distant gazes a reminder of the divide between their lives and yours.

Mr. Thomas stood near the front, his face a mask of stoicism as he accepted words of sympathy. His children had not left your side, and you knew why. They found more comfort in you than in the strangers who seemed to only appear during tragedies. You didn’t blame them.

As the ceremony came to a close, Ada tugged at your hand. "Can we go home now?" she asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the sound of rustling leaves and shifting boots in the cold.

You nodded, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We can, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes.”

You caught Mr. Thomas’s eye as he stepped away from the others. He gave you a weary nod, and you knew it was time to leave. You guided the children back to the carriage, helping them inside before following. The ride home was silent, save for the occasional sniffle from Ada and the creaking of the carriage wheels on the cobbled streets.

---

Back at the house, the quiet felt heavier than before. You could feel the weight of grief settling over everything, and it seemed to seep into your bones, making the fatigue that had been gnawing at you for days feel unbearable. Once the children were settled, you retreated to the kitchen, needing a moment to yourself.

But the moment you sat down, the ache in your chest flared up again, sharper this time. You tried to breathe through it, but the tightness only seemed to get worse. A cold sweat broke out on your forehead, and you pressed a hand to your throat, willing it to pass. It felt like something more than just exhaustion now. Something was wrong, but you didn’t have time to worry about it.

The back door creaked open, and you startled, your hand flying to your chest as Logan stepped in. His eyes immediately found yours, narrowing in concern.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low but urgent as he crossed the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile as you tried to stand. “I’m just tired. Long day.”

But Logan wasn’t buying it. His hand caught yours, and he gently pulled you to him, his other hand resting on your waist. “You’ve been tired for days,” he said quietly, his eyes searching yours. “And you look worse now than you did a week ago.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, leaning into his warmth without thinking. “Just... everything with Mrs. Thomas. I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, just held you there, his thumb brushing slow circles against your hip. “You’re not fine,” he said softly. “You need to rest. You’re running yourself into the ground, and I don’t want—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you cut him off, shaking your head as you buried your face in his chest. “I just... I just want to stay like this for a while. Can we do that?”

Logan’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “We can stay like this as long as you need,” he whispered.

The warmth of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest, calmed the rapid beating of your heart. It didn’t make the ache in your chest go away, but it dulled the edges for a little while. You stayed like that, your bodies swaying slightly, as if rocking back and forth would somehow soothe the turmoil inside you both.

After a long stretch of silence, Logan pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft but serious. “You’ve gotta start taking care of yourself,” he murmured. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I will,” you promised, though you weren’t sure how much of it was for him and how much was for yourself. You could see the worry etched in his features, and it made your heart ache in a different way. “I just... I don’t want to leave the kids right now. They need me.”

Logan sighed, shaking his head slightly. “They need you alive and healthy, not running yourself ragged.”

You knew he was right, but the thought of stepping away—of not being there for them when they needed you most—made your stomach turn.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But I’m all they have right now.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a way that felt both comforting and urgent, as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N,” he murmured. “I’m here. Always.”

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. It was moments like this, in the quiet after the storm, that made everything feel bearable, even when the exhaustion seemed impossible to shake. You didn’t want to think about what came next—the inevitable questions from the children, the grief that would continue to hang over the house like a dark cloud.

For now, you just wanted to be here, with Logan, in this fleeting moment of peace.

---

Over the next few days, that small cough persisted, annoying but easy to brush off at first. You told yourself it was just the cold weather, or maybe the exhaustion still clinging to you. But it stuck around, and soon it wasn’t just a cough. Your chest felt heavier, and there were moments where you had to stop to catch your breath.

You didn’t say anything to Logan the first few nights he visited, not wanting to worry him. It wasn’t like you were coughing up blood or anything, and you figured it would pass, just like the fatigue had started to. But when he saw you rubbing your chest again, his eyes narrowed with concern.

“You’ve been coughing a lot,” Logan said one evening, his arm draped casually over your shoulder as you leaned into him by the fire. The warmth of the flames helped ease the tightness in your chest, but even then, it felt harder to breathe than it had before.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, tucking your legs under you and snuggling closer to him, hoping to avoid the conversation. “It’s just the cold. Everyone’s getting sick this time of year.”

Logan tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “Y/N, don’t pull that. I know you, and you’re coughing more than you should be. This isn’t just a cold.”

You sighed, not wanting to argue, but the exhaustion weighed on you, and fighting him off seemed too tiring. “Okay, maybe it’s not just a cold,” you admitted, glancing at him. “But it’s nothing serious. I’m just run down.”

Logan’s fingers gently traced up your arm, his touch familiar and grounding. He looked at you with that steady gaze of his, the one that made you feel safe. “You need to rest. Real rest, not just five minutes of sleep here and there between looking after the kids.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile, reaching up to touch his face. “I know. But they need me right now, especially Ada. She’s not taking this well, and I can’t just leave her.”

Logan leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re no good to them if you collapse from exhaustion.”

The way he said it—so serious, so protective—it made your chest ache in a different way. You knew he was right, but the thought of taking a step back when the kids were still hurting felt impossible.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, but your voice wavered just enough that Logan picked up on it.

He kissed you softly, slow and gentle, like he was trying to pour all of his concern into that one kiss. When he pulled back, his hand lingered on the side of your face. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself, Y/N,” he said softly. “I’m here.”

You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words, and for a moment, you let yourself believe it—that you didn’t have to do everything on your own.

But the next morning, as you moved through the house and got the kids ready for the day, the cough came back with a vengeance. It left you winded, gripping the counter to steady yourself as your breath caught in your throat. Ada was tugging at your skirt, asking for something, but the ringing in your ears made it hard to focus.

“Y/N?” her small voice called, but everything sounded distant.

You forced yourself to smile, pushing through the wave of dizziness. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” you said, though it was more for you than her. The ache in your chest was sharper now, and for the first time, a flicker of real fear crossed your mind.

That evening, when Logan came by, you didn’t have the energy to hide how bad you felt. The second he walked through the door, he saw it in your face.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice urgent as he rushed to your side. “What the hell happened? You look worse.”

You tried to brush it off, but the cough came again, harsher this time, and Logan’s eyes darkened with worry. His hands were on you, steadying you as you leaned into him, the warmth of his body grounding you again.

“You’re not fine,” he said, his tone more serious now. “I should’ve done something sooner.”

“Logan, don’t—”

“I’m taking you to a doctor,” he interrupted, his jaw set. “No arguing.”

You wanted to protest, but the truth was, you didn’t have the strength to fight him. You were too tired, too worn down, and part of you was scared. So you nodded, letting him pull you into his arms as if holding you close would make everything better.

“I’m here,” Logan whispered against your hair, his voice soft and filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I’ll take care of you, okay? You’re not going through this alone.”

---

The next morning, Logan arrived earlier than usual. He wasn’t taking any chances, especially after the night before. You’d barely slept, your coughing keeping you awake for most of it, and when you did manage to drift off, it was only in short, restless intervals.

Logan helped you into the carriage he’d hired, his hands lingering on your arms longer than necessary, his brow furrowed with worry. He hadn’t said much since arriving, just a quiet “Mornin’” before ushering you outside. His concern was written all over his face, even though he tried to hide it behind a mask of calm.

You leaned back against the seat, closing your eyes as the carriage bumped along the cobbled streets. Each breath felt heavier, the tightness in your chest worsening by the day. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew this was more than just a cold. The cough had settled deep, rattling in your lungs, and even though you tried to convince yourself it was nothing serious, the thought that it could be something more was gnawing at you.

Logan sat beside you, his knee pressed against yours as he kept a protective hand on your leg. Every so often, you’d feel his gaze on you, watching, as if checking to make sure you were still holding on. The warmth of his presence was a comfort, even if you didn’t say it out loud.

When the carriage finally stopped, you opened your eyes and saw the modest sign hanging above the doctor's office. Logan didn’t waste any time helping you down, his arm tight around your waist as you made your way inside.

The waiting room was quiet, the air thick with the scent of medicinal herbs. Logan barely let go of you the entire time, his arm never leaving your waist, and when the doctor finally called you in, Logan made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

Inside the small exam room, the doctor—a middle-aged man with silver hair and a kind face—greeted you both with a nod. His expression shifted when he looked at you, though, his eyes softening in a way that made your stomach churn with nerves.

“How long have you had the cough, miss?” the doctor asked as you sat down, Logan standing right behind you.

“A few days,” you said, your voice raspy and weak. “Maybe a little longer.”

The doctor frowned slightly, moving closer to examine you. “And the fatigue? Any weight loss?”

You nodded. “Yes... I’ve been really tired, and I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

Logan’s hand rested on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there. The doctor continued his examination, listening to your chest with a stethoscope, his brow furrowing as he moved from side to side.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back, letting out a slow breath. He met your eyes, and you knew immediately that it wasn’t good.

“I don’t want to alarm you,” he began, his voice gentle. “But given your symptoms and the sound of your lungs, I believe you may have contracted tuberculosis.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight. You felt Logan tense behind you, his grip on your shoulder tightening ever so slightly.

Tuberculosis.

The sickness that had taken Mrs. Thomas. The same one that had been lingering in the house for weeks.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You’d heard the stories—the way it ravaged families, the way it spread so easily. You’d seen it firsthand with Mrs. Thomas, watching her waste away before your eyes.

“How... how bad is it?” Logan’s voice was rough, strained, like he was barely holding himself together.

The doctor glanced at him, his expression serious. “It’s hard to say right now. Tuberculosis can vary greatly in severity. We’ll need to monitor her closely. Rest, proper care, and keeping her away from others as much as possible will be essential.”

You tried to swallow, but your throat felt tight. “What... what do we do now?”

The doctor sighed. “We’ll start with treatment to help ease the symptoms—medicinal herbs, rest, and a strict diet. It’s crucial that you avoid any further exertion. You’ll need to isolate yourself to prevent it from spreading.”

You nodded, but your mind was spinning. The thought of being confined, of having to stay away from the children—it made your chest tighten even more. How were you supposed to care for them when you couldn’t even take care of yourself?

Logan crouched down in front of you, his eyes searching yours as he held your hands in his. “We’ll figure this out, okay?” he said softly. “You’ll rest, and I’ll help with the kids. You’re not doing this alone.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t want Logan to see how scared you really were.

“I don’t want to leave them,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “They need me.”

“I know,” Logan murmured, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand. “But they need you healthy, Y/N. And I need you healthy.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the sight of his worry. He was trying so hard to be strong for you, to keep it together, but you could see the fear in his eyes—the same fear you felt deep in your bones.

“We’ll get through this,” he said firmly. “You’re not going anywhere, okay? Not without a fight.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands as tightly as you could. Logan stayed close, his presence a steady, comforting force as the weight of the diagnosis settled over you both.

---

Weeks passed, and the house became quieter. The children were kept at a distance, the once lively home now feeling more like a tomb as you spent your days in bed, trying to gather what little strength you had left. Logan had taken over your duties, ensuring the children were cared for while also staying close to you.

Your body grew weaker with each passing day, the illness creeping deeper into your lungs. The once mild cough had turned into something far more painful, leaving you breathless and exhausted after every fit. You knew, deep down, that the end was approaching. You could feel it in the way your energy dwindled, the way even opening your eyes took effort.

Logan, on the other hand, refused to give up. He never spoke of what was coming, never let on that he saw the same inevitable truth. Instead, he clung to hope, pushing you to eat, to drink, to rest. His presence was a constant, grounding you even in your weakest moments.

Sometimes you even talked about the future, the one you knew you would never have, and the one Logan hoped you would, with him.

Your coughing fit had died down for now, leaving you in bed with your head resting against Logan’s shoulder. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, and the warmth of his body gave you a sense of comfort, even when the pain in your chest didn’t. You took in a shaky breath and spoke softly.

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” you murmured, your voice still weak. “Maybe two.”

Logan shifted slightly, his chin resting on top of your head. “Yeah? What kind?”

You shrugged, smiling a little. “Doesn’t really matter. I just like the idea of having something waiting for me at home, you know? Something happy to see me, no matter what kind of day I’ve had.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You’d be a good dog mom.”

You looked up at him, a playful glint in your tired eyes. “You think?”

“Definitely. You’ve already got all the practice with the kids.” He paused, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. “Except maybe the dog would be less trouble.”

You laughed, but it turned into a cough, and you quickly brought a hand to your mouth. Logan tensed beside you, waiting until the coughing subsided before speaking again.

“You’re gonna get better, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice firm, but the edge of worry was clear. “We’ll get you that dog. Or two.”

You didn’t respond right away. You wanted to believe him—really, you did—but each day you felt weaker, and it was getting harder to ignore the reality of your situation. But you also didn’t want to drag him down with your fears, so you leaned into him instead, letting the moment linger.

You put your chin on his shoulder, looking up at him, “how many kids would you want?”

Logan looked at you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Kids, huh?” His voice was warm, teasing, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you, like he was imagining it for real.

“Yeah,” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, eyes searching his face. “I know it’s kind of silly to think about right now, but... I like the idea. You?”

He took a breath, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your arm. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Never really thought much about it until you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Until me?”

Logan chuckled softly. “Yeah. Before you, I wasn’t really thinkin’ about things like... a future, you know? I didn’t even know if I’d stay in the city long. But now... now I think about things I never used to.” He paused, glancing down at your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours. “Like kids, and... us.”

Your heart fluttered at that, the weight of his words settling in. He’d never said anything like that before—nothing about the future beyond today or tomorrow. It wasn’t like either of you knew what was coming, especially now, but hearing him say that he thought about you in that way made everything feel more real. More possible.

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “So, how many then? Two? Three?”

Logan laughed quietly. “Two sounds good. Just enough to keep us on our toes, but not so many we lose our minds.”

You giggled, a sound that quickly turned into a cough, and Logan’s smile faded a little, worry creeping back into his eyes. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just held you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from everything bad in the world.

Once the cough subsided, you leaned your head back against his chest. “I think you’d be a good dad, Logan.”

His hand stilled against your arm. “You think?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You’re good with the kids now, even if you don’t realize it. They like you, trust you. You’d protect them... care for them.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you could feel the weight of his thoughts. “I’d try,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

The warmth of his body, the steadiness of his presence—it was enough to make you forget, for just a little while, how weak you felt. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfort of him, of this moment, even though you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like?” you asked quietly. “If we didn’t have to worry about... this.” You gestured vaguely, meaning the illness, the uncertainty, all of it.

“All the time,” Logan murmured. “But we’ve still got time, Y/N. I’m not giving up on you.”

You opened your eyes, looking up at him. “You really think we’ll make it through this?”

Logan’s gaze was unwavering. “I know we will.”

His confidence, his belief in you, in this, made your heart ache in the best way. You wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto that hope, even though the fear lingered in the back of your mind.

“You don’t have to be so tough all the time,” Logan said gently, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “It’s okay to lean on me.”

You looked at him, your chest tight for a different reason now. “I know.”

And you did. Logan was always there, steady and unshakable, even when you felt like you were falling apart. You didn’t have to do this alone, even if part of you still felt like you should.

Logan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. “I’m with you, Y/N,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

You closed your eyes again, savoring the warmth of his kiss, the feeling of his arms around you. For now, that was enough.

But even as you rested against him, part of you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that your time was running out.

---

Logan hated the fact that everything you said was in past tense. How you would’ve liked to learn how to bake bread in that cabin you wanted.

How you would’ve liked to learn how to crochet.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a quiet intensity. You had been talking again, your voice soft and tired, about all the things you wished you had more time to do. It was starting to drive him crazy—the way you spoke in past tense, like you were already halfway gone.

“Would’ve liked to learn how to crochet,” he repeated softly, his eyes never leaving your face.

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. I always thought it’d be nice to make something with my hands. You know, like a blanket or something... for the cabin.”

Logan’s chest tightened. He hated this—hated that you were talking about all these little dreams like they were out of reach. He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re gonna be fine, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “You’ll still have time for all that.”

You met his gaze, your eyes soft but filled with something else—something that made his heart ache. “Logan...”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t get to talk like that. We’re gonna get you through this.”

You let out a soft sigh, your hand coming up to touch his cheek. “You don’t always have to be strong, you know. It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Logan said quickly, though the way he gripped your hand a little tighter gave him away. He wasn’t ready to admit it—to you, to himself—that the thought of losing you scared him more than anything he’d ever faced.

You smiled faintly, shifting on the bed so you could lean into him. “I know you, Logan. You don’t have to pretend for me.”

Logan felt his throat tighten as you pressed closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, trying to hold on to the moment for as long as he could. Your body felt so fragile against his, like you could break if he held you too tight. But he needed to feel you, to remind himself that you were still here.

“Don’t,” Logan said, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t talk like that.” He looked away for a second, trying to regain control of the storm raging inside him. He didn’t want to hear the finality in your voice, didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility that you might slip away from him.

You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you touched his cheek. “Logan, you know as well as I do...”

“No,” he repeated, cutting you off again, his voice gruff but shaky. His hand covered yours, pressing it gently against his face. “I’m not losing you. I don’t care what the doctor says. We’ll fight this. We’ll get through it.”

There was a long silence between you, the air heavy with the unspoken truth. You didn’t have the heart to argue with him, but you knew. You could feel it in your bones, in the way your body was failing you little by little every day. But Logan’s refusal to accept that reality made you love him even more, even if it hurt.

You gave him a sad smile, your eyes locking with his. “I love you, Logan.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. The weight of those words—words you’d both danced around but never truly said—hit him like a punch to the gut. He leaned in close, his forehead resting against yours, his voice barely a whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice breaking just a little.

You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his words wash over you. It wasn’t fair, any of this. You’d only just begun to imagine a life with him, and now that future was slipping through your fingers.

Logan held you tighter, his arms wrapped around you as if he could protect you from everything, even death. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, before pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips. It wasn’t passionate or desperate—just soft, filled with all the love he hadn’t yet had the chance to show you.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your skin. “Always.”

And for a moment, despite the pain, despite everything, you believed him. Because even if the future was uncertain, even if you didn’t have much time left, you had this. You had him. And for now, that was enough.

---

Nothing had worked, and nothing was working.

You had already accepted your fate, but Logan couldn’t—no matter how many times you tried to explain. He kept his focus on you, his stubborn hope unwavering, even though you both knew time was running out.

“You’re gonna be fine, Y/N. You’ll see,” he said softly, sitting beside you on the bed. He brushed a hand through your hair, his touch gentle, but the worry in his eyes was impossible to miss.

You looked up at him, your chest tight—not from the sickness, but from the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment. “Logan... we need to talk about this.”

He shook his head immediately, his jaw clenched. “No, we don’t. We don’t have to talk about anything like that. You’re gonna get better, and we’ll figure everything out.” His voice cracked just a little at the end, betraying the fear he was trying to hide.

You reached for his hand, your fingers trembling as they closed around his. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to spend what little time we have left lying to ourselves.”

Logan looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. “But I can’t... I can’t think about losing you.”

“You don’t have to think about it,” you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. “But we need to be honest with each other. I’m not getting better, Logan. We both know that.”

His whole body tensed beside you, and he turned his head away as if looking anywhere but at you would somehow make your words less real. “I can’t... I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and leaned closer, pressing your lips softly to his jaw. “I love you, Logan. That’s all that matters to me right now.”

His breath hitched, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, holding you as if he could protect you from the inevitable, his arms tightening around you.

After a while, he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I love you too. More than anything. That’s why I’m not giving up.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, your heart breaking for him. “I know you’re trying to protect me... but I don’t want you to carry this alone. I need you to be here with me, in this moment, not fighting something we can’t change.”

Logan’s eyes met yours, and for a second, the wall he’d built around himself seemed to crack. “I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to just... be.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” you whispered, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “You can let go.”

His eyes softened, and before you could say anything else, Logan leaned in and kissed you—soft, but with an intensity that made your heart ache. It was a kiss that said everything he couldn’t put into words: the fear, the love, the desperation to hold onto whatever time you had left.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky. “I don’t know how to say goodbye,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, your hand still resting on his cheek. “We don’t have to say goodbye yet. Just stay with me. That’s all I want.”

Logan didn’t respond with words. Instead, he held you tighter, his arms wrapping around you as if he could keep you with him through sheer willpower alone. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the way his breath hitched every now and then like he was fighting back tears.

For a while, you both stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading into nothingness. There was no cough, no sickness, no uncertainty—just the warmth of Logan’s body against yours and the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand.

Eventually, you spoke, your voice barely audible. “I wish we had more time.”

Logan’s grip tightened slightly. “Me too.”

You felt a lump in your throat, but you forced a small smile. “You know... if things were different, I think we’d have had a pretty good life together.”

Logan’s voice was thick with emotion as he replied, “We still will. Somehow... someday.”

You leaned your head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “Maybe in another life.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel the way his body stiffened, like he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you again—even in another life.

“You don’t have to be alone, Logan,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with all the love you had left. “Promise me you won’t shut yourself off.”

He was silent for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough and raw. “I can’t promise that.”

You smiled faintly, knowing that was the best you were going to get from him. “Just... don’t forget me.”

Logan leaned down and pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a long time. “I could never forget you.”

The room was quiet after that, the only sound the soft rustling of the blankets as Logan adjusted you in his arms, pulling you closer.

You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creeping in again, but this time it didn’t feel so overwhelming. With Logan’s warmth surrounding you, with his quiet strength holding you up, you felt at peace.

---

You had passed away in your sleep that night, in Logan’s arms. He had stayed up, something in his subconscious telling him to keep his eye on you.

And he did, he felt you take your last breath; one that didn’t seem as painful as when you were awake.

Logan held you close, his arms tightening around you instinctively as he realized what had just happened. His mind refused to process it, refused to accept that this was it. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with breaths that felt foreign in his own body. You weren’t moving anymore, not even the faintest stir.

For a long time, he didn’t let go. He couldn’t. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his face buried in your hair, willing his warmth into your body as if that could somehow bring you back.

"Y/N..." he whispered, his voice broken. He lifted his head slightly, his thumb brushing your cold cheek. "Please... wake up."

There was no answer.

Logan swallowed hard, his throat burning, his chest tightening. His hand trembled as it caressed your face, fingers gently tucking your hair behind your ear like he’d done a hundred times before. But this time, there was no playful smile in return. No teasing comment about how messy your hair always was.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

He let out a shaky breath, his other hand clutching the bedsheet, the weight of what had happened finally starting to crush him. He knew this moment was coming—he’d known it for weeks, maybe even months—but now that it was here, it didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how it had come to this, how someone as full of life as you could just... stop.

“Y/N... don’t do this... please,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible as if saying it any louder would make it more true. His hand lingered on your cheek, hoping for even the smallest sign that you’d take another breath.

But nothing came.

He stayed like that for a long time, just holding you, feeling the weight of your stillness.

Logan had never felt so powerless in his life. For all the things he could do, for all the strength in his bones, none of it could save you. His healing couldn’t save you. The realization cut him deeper than any wound ever had.

At some point, he felt his chest tremble, felt the tears start to burn at the corners of his eyes. He hadn’t cried in years, maybe ever—not like this—but he couldn’t stop it now. Not when he’d lost you.

“I... I love you,” he choked out, the words falling from his lips like a confession, like an apology for not saying it enough while you were still here to hear it. He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice breaking again. “I love you so much...”

The room was silent, except for the sound of Logan’s ragged breathing and the ticking of the old clock in the corner, each second passing with an agonizing slowness. He wished he could turn it back, go back to when you were still here—laughing, talking, smiling. Anything but this.

But he couldn’t.

And the weight of that realization shattered him.

For the first time in his life, Logan had no fight left in him. Not for this. Not without you.

i'm not gonna lie, i definitely started crying while writing those last few scenes, even though i knew how it was gonna end

just a little note for everyone (i'll probably add this at the end of every chapter just cause it helped me when writing) in this chapter, logan is 22 years old and reader is around the same age.

tags: @seasonofthenerd @golden-ebony @planetxella @tighrenicotine @wittyjasontodd @cherrypieyourface @tumharisakhi @person-005 @zaggprincess2

[no-144444]

nothing has to change- o.piastri

your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

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You were the World Driver’s Champion, as of 4pm that day. Yes, that could change in the next few races, half the season was still left, but you were proud. 

And so was Oscar. 

He stood at the very front of the barricade, a bright smile on his face as you ran over, wrapping your arms around him and the rest of his family. 

“You did it,” he whispered. “You’re amazing.”

You smiled, pulling your helmet off. “I did it.”

You felt proud of yourself. Proud that you could still excel in a team that didn’t want you. Proud that you had given them the points. Proud that you had let Oscar into your life. Proud that you had proved yourself worthy of RedBull, and much more. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You sat beside Oscar and Nicole at the dinner, across from Lando and Zak (who had invited themselves, much to Oscar’s chagrin). You quietly chatted to Nicole as Oscar made pleasant conversation with Zak and Lando. She noticed how you weren’t really… there. You kept looking at Lando, or Zak, or another team member. You were uncomfortable, nothing like the headstrong, loud girl she’d met yesterday. You were shy, reserved, and a little on edge. 

When you left the table to go to the bathroom, she tapped her son. “Get her out of here.”

He shrugged, sighing. “She won’t want to be rude-”

“Oscar, she’ll do anything you ask her to. Go.” 

He nodded, following you with your bag and jacket in hand. Kids these days. 

“Going to fuck her?” Lando scoffed, too drunk for his own good. A lot of the table stopped and gasped. Lando had never been so… vulgar. Oscar was disgusted. Just because neither you or Oscar worshipped the ground he walked on, didn’t mean he had to make the both of you miserable.

“What is your problem?” Oscar finally couldn’t take it. It was bullshit, Lando was an asshole. 

“It’s clear you’re in love with her,” he chuckled. 

“Fuck off Lando,” he shouted. “You’re such a dick! You’re so self-absorbed you wouldn’t even recognise someone interesting if they actually slapped you in the face. You don’t understand Y/n, and for her sake I hope you never get close enough to. You are a shallow, shitty, infuriatingly untalented asshole, with an ego the size of England. Maybe I’m in love with her, but at least I don’t act like she’s not there to feed my own tiny ego.”

And he turned around to see you standing there, a shocked expression on your face. You looked slightly terrified too, but he just decided to blame the shock. 

“Y/n I-“ he started but you cut him off by grabbing your things from his hands, and turning tail. The entire room was silent for a moment. “Fuck!” Oscar groaned, running out after you. 

He couldn’t have, he didn’t. He didn’t fuck this up. Lando didn’t fuck this up for him. He didn’t. 

He better not have. 

He raced through the streets of a city he didn’t really know, pleading that he’d find you. When he did, it was from a distance. You were sitting in a park. Your head in your hands. 

Lando had fucked it up for him. Slowly, he walked closer, too cautious to startle you. 

“I’m sorry about… back there-” he whispered. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you sighed. “I just… it’s a lot, yeah? I don't exactly see myself as the poster-girl for romance.”

He looked at you. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never really done this before. And I’m awkward and weird, and I’m rude to you-” 

“I don’t mind if you’re rude to me-” 

“You should,” you told him. 

You were both quiet for a moment, and he understood that this was a fork in the road. He could either push you too far, or he’d ruin everything if you felt the same by not speaking up now. The air was charged with an uncertain electricity, and he wasn’t perfectly sure what to do. Oscar was a man of logic, but love was illogical. He liked facts and numbers and a set of rules to follow. He didn’t like feeling uncertain. 

But he was happy to feel uncertain if it meant he kept you. 

“This doesn’t have to change anything,” he told you. “If you don’t want it to, we don’t have to do anything about it. I’m happy to be your friend. I’m not expecting anything.”

You looked at him, and when he saw the unshed tears in your eyes, his heart hurt. He gently reached a hand up and cupped your cheek, carefully wiping them away. 

“I don’t want anything to change,” you admitted. “I really like having you around Oscar.” 

He smiled, though he was slightly disappointed. Rejection from the pretty girl he was in love with was going to sting either way, even if she’d just told him that she actually enjoyed his presence. “That’s fine with me,” he whispered. 

You stared at him, silently asking for reassurance, and he nodded. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be-”

“Don’t apologise,” he reminded you. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I think I do,” you said, looking down again. “I just… I’m not in the headspace to be in a relationship. McLaren is really… it’s a lot for me.”

So you did like him back? He couldn’t really decipher what that meant, but he’d work on it another time. 

“That’s alright,” he smiled. 

You couldn’t be more shocked by his behaviour. Yes, Oscar was the nicest man you knew, but you assumed he’d be mad, or at least a little bit annoyed at you. But he was just the same, kind, caring, lovely Oscar that he always was. 

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After he walked you back to your hotel room, you stewed over your decision for a few hours. Maybe you did want Oscar like that. Maybe you were just self-sabotaging yourself as always. Maybe you were just being more cautious than you needed to be. 

But then you reminded yourself that this was Oscar that you were talking about. The only person in the entire world who supported you. You couldn’t let him get too close, lest he see all of you, and then you were sure he’d be gone for good.

You couldn't lose him. 

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[distantdarlings]

HOUSE PRIDE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Heavy sexual material, degradation, name-calling, jealousy, fem reader, language, dom!Theo--honestly, this is just depraved

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Pyramids - Frank Ocean

---

You pressed your face to your hands, breathing deeply. You couldn’t believe what you were fucking hearing. The pounding in your head refused to subside as he kept demanding an answer.

“Hello? Do you wanna explain why you were practically throwing yourself on Riddle today at lunch?” the brunette demanded, his eyes widened and wild. Your hands dropped and you made eye contact with the boy. You were in disbelief.

“Throwing myself at him? You dick, I tripped and fell on him! That’s just number one! Number two: you are not my fucking boyfriend,” you shouted, “I can throw myself on whoever I want, whenever I want!”

Theo locked his jaw and pursed his lips slightly. A tell of his that meant he was very angry. He didn’t usually speak much after he pushed past this point. More like, just crossed his arms and stared at you, eye bordering on twitching. You scoffed and held your hands out, waiting for a response from him. He said nothing.

“I don’t need you to tell me who to give attention to, Theo. You are not my boyfriend, I am not your girlfriend. I tripped and fell against Mattheo this morning and we both laughed it off, so why can’t you?”

“You just tripped and fell on him and his hands landed on your ass? Oh, whoops, just an accident!” he mocked you. 

“I don’t know if his hands were on my ass or not, he may have been trying to stabilize me as quickly as he could—but besides the point, who gives a fuck if he was touching my ass? It’s not like you’ve been too eager to do anything anytime soon!” you shout, blood rushing through your ears and cheeks. Shit. You did not mean to say that. His head shot back and his eyes widened slightly. You kept the anger imprinted on your face to attempt to hide the embarrassment you were feeling so strongly. Hopefully, he would think this was a super-confident confession written in a rage. Still, he said nothing.

“Oh, forget it! To hell with you, Theo!” you screamed, grabbing your robes and running out of his dorm room. He said nothing and made no move to stop you. Your feet carried you down the hallway and into your own room. 

None of your roommates were here. You figured they were all in different dorms, preparing for the common room party in a few hours. Once every couple of months, some of the Slytherins—usually seniors—will get together and prepare a “house” party. They’re always fun, high-energy, and filled to the brim with Slytherin pride. Merlin, you loved them. 

You had originally declined to go tonight. You had some leftover work that was due on Monday and you almost thought that Theo would invite you to Hogsmeade or something, but you should have known better than that. It seems all he’s concerned about is his reputation. 

You tugged through the buttons on your uniform top and ripped it off your shoulders. You pulled your skirt and socks off, holding the end of your bed for balance. There were a couple of nice outfits shoved in the trunk beneath the bedframe—you figured something in there would do. You reached up and let your hair down from its elastic, allowing it to fall to its natural length. The ends of the waved strands tickled your skin as you yanked the trunk into the open. Inside were a couple of different combinations, all saved up for special occasions. And if anyone asked you, making Theo Nott as jealous as you possibly could was a very special occasion. 

Your eyes fell on a specific top. A long sleeve, skin-tight sweetheart neckline that plunged a little deeper than it should, and a flared, darkened skirt. You reckoned it was simple and sexy. It practically bled Theo’s name all over your body, claiming you as his, though you pretended like you hated that. He never needed to know it, but you secretly loved how jealous he became when you had the smallest interactions with other people. You blow a curled hair out of your face. The fucker could have been running down the halls with a red tapestry taped to his back and you still wouldn’t call him a red flag. He was just what you wanted; what you’d wanted for years. Whether or not he’d ever actually act on your feelings for each other, you belonged to him and he belonged to you. 

You slipped the outfit on, mussed up your hair a bit, and applied a light layer of makeup. With the two tests, three project due dates, and eighteen assignments you’d had this week, you could use a bit of a touch-up. Hopefully, you didn’t sweat it off by the end of the night—though, that was sort of the goal.

You grabbed your wand and slipped it into your back pocket, patting it twice for good luck, and pushed through the dorm door. Down the hallway, you could hear the faint pounding of music. Your heart raced, keeping in time with the deep bass pushing past the walls. Was this a good idea? For a few moments, you stood in front of your door, pondering your options. Your plan for this evening could either end really well or really badly or you could avoid the possibilities completely and stay in like you originally planned. A deep sigh left you as your eyes slid closed. Who cared? This was your life and, you’d said it earlier, Theo was not your boyfriend and you intended on finishing what you’d started with Mattheo earlier this morning.

Deep cool colors swirled throughout the common room, echoing off of every shadow and highlight in the moulding. Everywhere you looked there was another Slytherin scarf or Quidditch team hat. One boy even wore a Slytherin flag around his neck like a cape. You laughed at the absurd outfit. These parties were most definitely one of the best things about being a Slytherin. Say what you will about the house, but they could throw a fucking party. 

You slid through swaying bodies, feeling the bass echo deep in your chest, rattling your ribcage. A couple of your friends were scattered throughout the crowd and slipped in gracefully with their personal friends. As you passed by them, they waved or flashed you a bright smile, all of which you returned. You would come back and talk but, for now, you were looking for someone specific. 

There was a table set up in front of the fireplace, decked out with green and black decorations, and overflowing with tall glasses of firewhisky. Your eyes skated along the length of the furniture until it reached a familiar body. You smirked and grabbed a drink before making your way over.

Enzo stood against the edge of the table, discussing something with one of the “bartenders.” When you stopped in front of him, his lips ceased and his eyes found your chest, then your eyes. His lips remained parted. Sweet, sweet Enzo. 

“Hey, En, I was wondering if you’d seen Mattheo, anywhere?” you smiled. He said nothing for a few seconds before stuttering back to life like an old car. 

“Uh, no, I haven’t seen him anywhere…uh, why do you need—um, I mean, did you need to talk to him?” he stumbled, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets. The boy he’d been talking to—some fifth-year—snorted and rolled his eyes, turning away from the two of you to pour a couple more drinks. You stepped closer to Enzo, feeling his body heat on you. The shoes you were wearing granted you a couple more inches of height, which, consequently, put your hairline just above his. His eyes were angled slightly upward as he watched you. 

You waved him against you. He leaned in. The confidence burning through you tonight was more than you’d felt in a long time. You felt hurt and angry and frustrated. You could fix one of those quickly. You traced the skin above his ear, pushing a small tuft of copper hair back. A small shudder went through his body as you pressed your lips against his ear.

“I just wanted to dance and was looking for a boy who’d dance with me,” you said slowly. “I thought Mattheo would be the best but maybe you could…you know…”

You pulled away and smiled sweetly, placing a deep innocence into your eyes, watching as his lips parted and closed multiple times. You tilted your head to the right, allowing your eyes to switch from his eyes to his lips ever so briefly.

“I haven’t seen Mattheo, I’ll dance with you,” he said, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. You smiled brightly and grabbed one of the hands hanging limply by his side. You felt his warm skin beneath yours as you tugged him toward the center of the dancing mass. You were pretty sure you recognized the song playing and proceeded to work all of its beats throughout your body, encouraging Enzo to join you.

“Come on, En!” you laughed. “You’re supposed to dance with me.” He seemed to shock out of a momentary stupor. You felt good tonight and you hoped it was showing on your face and body. He still didn’t move and you reckoned he was going to take some physical guiding. 

As the song slowed slightly, you grabbed both of his hands and slid them around your hips. His breath shuddered through his lips as you began moving the two of you. You dropped your hands to his belt and guided his hips a bit, biting back a smile. He had all of the facilities for these particular…activities, he was just really nervous. Soon enough, though, his hips were moving on their own.

You turned around and placed your back against his chest. Without prompting, his hands dropped down to your hips, gripping them firmly. He moved you against him to every beat of the song. To be honest, he was placing a little bit of blush in your stomach. One of your arms raised to wrap loosely around his neck.

“That’s it, baby,” you cooed in his ear, cradling the base of his neck with your hand. One of his hands raised to hold your arm against him as the other stayed intact on your hip. A crooked smile found its way onto his lips as the both of you felt every rhythm the other was putting out. Fuck, maybe you’d picked the wrong boy all along. The way Enzo was grabbing your hips and ever so slowly grinding against your ass had your lips parting in a slow gasp.

“Like this?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Merlin, help you.

If anything could have pulled you out of your current situation, it was the burning eyes you felt against you pouring into your skin like a brand. You gasped a bit and looked away from Enzo. Almost immediately, you found Theo’s eyes on the two of you. Enzo noticed your sudden change of attention and glanced up, finding the older’s eyes. Like he’d been branded himself, his hands faded away from you and, almost as quickly, so did he. Fucker. So much for sticking by you. 

You were used to it by now, though. Where you were involved, Theo was, too. Even though you weren’t actually together, everyone knew you were Theo’s. Anytime you were hanging out with another boy, he always found out. Even if it was just for a school assignment. 

His jaw was clenched and ticking. His eyes were lidded and ice-cold, angled right at you. You rolled your eyes and huffed, stomping off through the crowd. He couldn’t get whatever he wanted all the time. He needed to pick. He needed to officially claim you as his, take you on dates, buy you gifts, and all that nonsense or he needed to leave you the hell alone. He couldn’t have it both ways. 

You finally came upon the end of the crowd and the staircase leading to the girl’s dorms. You hurried up the steps, not even caring if he was behind you or ignoring you or with a different girl. 

The hallway was completely empty, everybody down at the party or taking an early night. You rushed across the winding floors, trying your best to get to your room before Theo changed his mind. You just wanted to get out of your clothes and makeup and go to bed. Your dorm door appeared around the corner followed by an immense sense of relief.

Your hand closed around the doorknob and—a hand closed tightly around your arm and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as the perpetrator slammed you roughly into the wall just beside the door. It was Theo. He was livid, his breath coming out in hard slants, and his eyes so darkened they appeared black. You swallowed thickly, your breath rushing out of you just as his was. The two of you heard your hearts pounding in tandem.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, his face inches from yours. Your eyes glanced down from his to his lips, watching the changes in his anger. He waited impatiently for an answer for too long before you realized it wasn’t meant to be a rhetorical question. 

He grabbed your arm once more and pulled you away from the wall. A swift flick of his wand and a fury like no other, and he was pulling you into your empty dorm room. It was almost completely dark by now.

“You want some attention, huh?” he said, casting a flame into the stove set in the middle of the room, his grip on your arm never weakening. He slammed his wand down on your bedside table and pushed you onto your bed. You fell roughly against the mattress, your hands holding you up into a sitting position. He stared down at you wildly, like an angry parent.

“Answer me,” he growled. Your eyes bore the same innocence you’d given to Enzo earlier and you knew that he’d only last a few minutes like this. Already, his facade was flickering and his gaze was softening. 

“I just—I don’t know, Teddy, I—”

“You just, you—you, you…fucking spit it out,” he mocked you. Body betraying your mind, heat pooled in your lower stomach as his face got closer and closer to yours and he got angrier and angrier. If it was anyone else, you’d have gotten embarrassed or angry but with Theo…it was a different feeling.

“All out of confidence, hmm? What happened, baby, you had plenty out there when you were grinding your ass all over Lorenzo Berkshire in front of everyone!”

“What’s wrong with Enzo?” you squeaked, your thumbs rolling over the other.

“He’s not me, you stupid girl,” he roared, his words perking your chest. You pressed your thighs together discreetly, never losing eye contact with him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you.

“Are you serious? Are you fucking turned on right now?” he asked. He had seen you. You didn’t say anything. His hand reached around and roughly gripped your hair, his fingers tugging deliciously on your scalp. He held your head back.

“Answer me, baby,” he whispered, his voice a thousand times different. “Does it turn you on when I shout at you? When you get me jealous and worked up?” The way he was looking down at you had you gulping against the strain being placed on your throat. You nodded.

“God, you’re so fucking pathetic,” he laughed darkly, the sinister tone in his voice echoing in your stomach. His hand let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw tightly. He held your face up so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“Maybe I need to remind you who you fucking belong to?” An eyebrow quirked. You nodded once more, anticipation hitting you like a train. He smirked, releasing your jaw by pushing you back roughly. Your back came into contact with the bed, the material nearly knocking the breath out of you. 

He crawled over you slowly, letting his lips ghost over your exposed cleavage, neck, chin, lips. He paused and allowed his breath to pour into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, the scent of it burning your lips. He pushed his tongue out and gently traced it over your bottom lip. Your lips parted in a gasp at the contact. Just as soon as your mouth had opened, his had covered it, suffocating all breath. You moaned into him, feeling the way his body held you tightly against the mattress. 

You raised your hand to place your fingers beneath his shirt, but one of his hands reached down and grabbed yours with a speed your intoxicated brain wasn’t capable of comprehending right now. He raised them above your head and held them with a grip like a vice, his fingers violent and unyielding. You’d definitely have bruises in the morning. 

You bucked your hips against him, trying to illicit some contact between your core and his. He grunted at the touch before pulling back and roughly turning you over, pressing your chest into the mattress. 

“Don’t fucking do that,” he growled into your ear, still holding your hands tightly above you. “Do as I fucking say. I’m going to pull this skirt up and I’m going to fuck you and you’re not going to say a word but my name. Do you understand me?” You nodded frantically, impatiently waiting for some contact. 

“Keep your hands there,” he instructed as he slowly let them go. You curled your fingers around the edge of the bed to keep them locked in place. You didn’t dare disobey him. 

Behind you, you could hear the clink of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his jeans and dropped it to the floor. The anticipation was killing you, your thighs pressing tightly together for a chance at some friction. The heat between them was beginning to become too much. 

He pressed bruising kisses along the side of your neck, trailing them down your shoulder. His teeth cut along the flesh, ripping blacks and blues into the sensitive skin. You whimpered at the feeling, knowing good and well he just wanted everyone to see whose you were.

His fingers ghosted along the outsides of your thighs, tracing the chills that appeared in their wake. You shuddered against the sheets, waiting to feel everything he was about to do. You couldn’t see any of his movements and, for whatever reason, that amplified the feeling by a million. 

There was a moment of nothing except for the sound of rustling clothing. No part of him touched you and you found yourself becoming more and more desperate by the moment. You reckoned he was removing unnecessary items of his outfit but if he didn’t do something soon, you were going to start pitching a fit. 

Then his thumb pressed against your thin undergarments, right where you needed him the very most. An awfully audible moan left your lips and your spine arched against his touch. Merlin help anyone who walked by this dorm or, worse, tried to come in.

“Please, baby,” you sighed, your fingers clenching tightly against the mattress. His hand roughly grabbed your hair once more, tugging your head back.

“My name only, you dumb slut,” he insulted before pushing your head back into the sheets. One hand held your head to the bed as the other lined his hips up with yours. 

No matter how many times the two of you did this, you’d never get used to it. He was just so much better than any of the other boys in school. And there were a lot of them too. None of them felt like Theo and he knew it, too. He knew that you would always come back to him. He was impossible to leave. His touch and rough, degrading words were addictive and you couldn’t stay away from him. Your friends had told you over and over again that you needed to drop him and completely move on but you just couldn’t. He was the closest thing to a drug you had.

He tucked a finger beneath your undergarments and slid them over to the side. He placed a hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he ordered. You complied. He spread the material over his fingers slowly, coating each one thoroughly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand disappear and reintroduce itself with your core. The tips of his soaked fingers skirted between the slit of your skin, lathering you in his touch. Just as he’d instructed, his name poured from your lips like a prayer. 

He pulled his hands away and quickly replaced them with a dark, warm heat that pressed into you agonizingly slowly, stretching every part of you out.

“Fuck, it’s been a while,” he groaned breathlessly, pushing into you until he bottomed out. His lips curve just above your ear, every moan and whisper touching your mind like a soft hand. As he began to move, they became louder and made less sense to either of you. His name curled around the room. You worshipped him. The reverence you placed on every syllable touched his chest and slid down to his core. He gasped into your ear. You sounded so fucking good.

It didn’t matter if he fucked every girl in Hogwarts, none of them could ever compare to you. 

“Theo, baby, you feel so good,” you screamed, the words vibrating your skin. 

“Yeah, baby?” he breathed. You moaned aloud as he pressed an especially sharp thrust against you. “I know, I know.”

“Please, please, please,” you babbled, your words pathetic and useless. His hips never ceased their brutal pace.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “Are you my girl? Or are you Enzo’s?” He growled the last part, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair. You yelped at the feeling, tilting your head back to relieve some of the pain.

“No, no! I’m yours, Teddy, I’m all yours, please,” you begged. 

“That’s right, baby.” He released your hair. Every movement of his body brought you closer and closer to your end. His hands gripping your hips and pulling himself toward his own, his lips curling against your ear, his weight holding you perfectly in place.

Neither of you would last much longer and you both knew that. Every deep push of his hips drove you further into your pleasure as you began to close around him, gradually coaxing a release out of him. One of his hands dropped down to trace tight circles against you, ignoring the way your hips quaked to get away from the overstimulation. You were done for. 

Every sound pouring from his lips began to mingle with yours a bit closer as he pushed you through both of your final breaths. His hips got slower and his grip loosened on your waist. The loss of his support sent your weakened body falling back down to the mattress. A breathless chuckle came from him as he laid down beside you, his shimmering skin luminescent in the moonlight. You presented him with a tired smile. 

“Could Enzo fuck you like that?” he asked, a proud smirk imprinted on his lips.

“I don’t know—I’ll let you know when I find out.”

[xxblairexxss]

A fresh start

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Angst, fluff

Word count : 4.2k

Part 2

Requested!

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."

Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.

"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"

"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"

"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.

"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.

"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.

"She just joined the team."

"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.

"Y/N!" Joris called out.

"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.

"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"

"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.

"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.

"I can figure that one myself!"

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"Charlie!"

"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.

"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.

"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.

"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.

"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.

"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."

Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.

"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.

"This will be your..." 

Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.

"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"

Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–"  Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."

"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."

"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.

"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."

He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."

"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"

"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid

"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"

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"Mommy, look!"

You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"

"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.

"A moustache? Is that a cat?"

"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"

"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"

"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"

"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.

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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"

"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"

"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.

"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"

Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"

"Adam!"

The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.

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"Mommy!"

You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.

"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.

You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.

"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.

"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"

"Yes!" he squealed.

You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”

"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.

"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"

His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie!"

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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.

"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"

"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.

"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.

"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"

"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.

"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"

"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"

"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."

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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.

"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.

"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.

"No."

"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"

"Mommy only goes on a date with me."

"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.

"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.

"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.

"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"

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"Charlie hurt?" 

"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"

Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.

Until you heard a knock on the door,

"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.

"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.

"Why didn’t you come to see me?"

"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.

"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."

To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"

"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.

"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."

You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"

"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.

"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.

"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.

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"Go! Open the door!"

"I can’t. Give me a second."

"Why?"

"I’m nervous, buddy."

"I’ll open it for you!"

"No, no!"

You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.

"Mommy?" 

"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.

"Go, Charlie!”

"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"

"Y/N. Actually–"

"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.

The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?

And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.

"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.

"Would you go out on a date with me?"

You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“

"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.

"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.

"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."

He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"

"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.

"And what’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles." 

He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."

"How did you get his permission?"

You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.

"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.

"Fine. Just one date."

To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."

"Sure, I’ll send you the address."

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"Be nice to Joris, alright?"

"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"

Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."

"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"

Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.

Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.

"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.

"It’s none of your business. Please leave."

"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.

"Leave, please."

"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.

"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.

"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.

"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.

You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.

"Y/N? Are you crying?"

You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."

"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"

"I–" You sobbed again.

"She wants you to leave, kid."

Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"

"I’m her husband."

You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.

Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."

"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.

"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.

"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"

"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."

"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.

"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.

Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.

"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."

"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.

It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.

But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.

"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.

"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.

"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.

"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.

"How long?"

"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.

"You didn’t report to the police?"

"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.

"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."

"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.

"You still owe me a proper date?"

"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.

"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."

"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.

"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.

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