#I live in New York I know what I’m talking

[magsinhiding]

Is there anything more annoying than a Yankees fan?

[seilon]

no like when I say any answer on the queerest city poll that’s not San Fran is wrong I mean it is factually and historically WRONG

[sourkitsch]

Why do people always think I’ll find 9/11 jokes funny. Like I had classmates who’s parents died.

[heytherecentaurs]

Brennan’s talked before about how as a poor young adult he lived in New York and struggled with food security. He tells a story of going to frozen yogurt places for free samples and a cheap dumpling spot because it was a lot of food.

His opinions on food and his described behaviours around food make a lot of sense in that context. He may be successful now and can be assured he can eat again when he’s hungry, but it appears he has legitimate trauma around his experiences with poverty because what he’s humorously describing is a trauma response. His mind hasn’t gotten rid of the anxiety of ��I’m eating now so I better make it count because I don’t know when I will again.”

Because he’s a comedian he manages to frame it as a joke, but there’s certainly an underlying sadness. It also informs Evan Kelmp’s characterization. Capitalism is the root issue here and poverty is state-sanctioned economic abuse.

Anyway, I hope he’s doing well and taking care of himself.

[luckykiwiii101]

ENTER THE GOD STATE

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ィ⠀Anything they can do, you can do better⠀࿐

p.s. if “God” makes you uncomfortable you can just switch that out with “creator” instead! long post ahead!!!

NOTE: God self/real you/true self/Inner self/I AM are ALL the same thing so don’t get confused.

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ィ⠀TABLE OF CONTENTS⠀࿐

WHAT IS THE GOD STATE (AKA, I AM STATE)?

RID THE IDEA OF THE 3D & TIME

DETACHING FROM YOUR 3D “SELF” & CONCEPT OF TIME

HOW TO ENTER THE GOD STATE

Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. And before you start talking, I know what you’re thinking.

“The God State???” sounds intimidating…to everyone but God. And with humans comes along failure, emotions and frustration. Now i’m not saying that you aren’t human. Yes, you are physically human (only if you want to be), but you are so much more than that.

Luckily for you, I exist, and i’ll show you how to identify with your god self in a New York minute!

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ィ⠀WHAT IS THE GOD/I AM STATE?⠀࿐

But first of all, what is the “god state”? Ask yourself, “who am I?” A lazy bum who doesn’t want to give themselves their dream lives? Surprisingly incorrect. Now who are you really? Who is the one aware of that blank space when you’re “sleeping”? Who is the one desiring? And who is the one giving?

I want you to close your eyes. Focus on the darkness behind your eyes. In your mind, repeat the phrase “I am”. Don’t condition anything to it. Simply just, “I am”. Focus on just being aware. Focus on just being. Just being. Being. You are simply just aware. And that is the I am. Before you are anything, you are “I am”. e.g. I AM beautiful. I AM intelligent. I am comes before everything. That is who you truly are. And you choose what to condition it to. Instead of choosing “I am ugly.” You can choose “I am beautiful.” And this “I am” is what we call the inner self. It is not a new concept to learn. You are familiar with it. It is simply just the you who has it all. I AM is the only power that exists, which is you. You cannot separate yourself from I AM. I AM = aware of being. And all you are, is aware. Pure consciousness. That’s all you are. And when you condition something unwanted to I am, you give that unwanted thing power.

In short, the best way to describe the “I am” state is the void state. The I am state and the void state are the exact same thing! That omnipotence “in” the void state is YOU! YOU are the one giving! When you affirm or whatever for your desires in the void state, it’s not the void state that holds the power, it is YOU who holds the power. YOU are the void state. Faceless and formless. Devoid of the concept of 3D and time. And that’s why you can be anything you want to be. That is the real you. Not this 3D you. That’s why when you’re “in” the void state, whatever you decide you have materialises instantly, because in that state, you are no longer bound by human limitations. You are just purely you.

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ィ⠀GET RID OF THE IDEA OF THE 3D & TIME⠀࿐

The key to entering the God state is to get rid of the idea of the 3D and time. By this I mean, to stop expecting something to happen, and to stop counting the days since you’ve started persisting, and feeling discouraged when it’s been a week and the 3D shows you nothing. You need to realise that time is simply just a concept made by humans. It doesn’t exist. At all. You can have anything you want right NOW. And you do.

I know that eventually you want to experience having your desires in the 3D. But first, you experience having them in the 4D. But the whole point is that you ALREADY have it. Now. Not later. And too many of you hold the idea of getting it later in the 3D, without even realising. You should be able to go back to imagination and feel fulfilled no matter what.

In the God state, all that exists to you is being omnipotent (all powerful) and having everything you want NOW in imagination. There is no concept of the 3D & time in the God state. And that is what makes it so powerful. You know that that God self is the real you. The inner self. And that is who you fully identify with. Not time. Not the 3D.

When you get rid of this silly idea of time and the 3D, you realise your power and the true meaning of having it now, and not waiting for anything. You become indifferent to the 3D. You don’t have what you want in the 3D? Didn’t even notice because that’s not the reality that I identify myself with. That doesn’t matter because it has nothing to do with you, because you don’t identify with it, because you know better than to identify with something that isn’t you. You are not waiting for anything because you are God, and you already have everything you could desire.

This point keeps FLYING over your heads because if you TRULY understand how powerful you are and the FACT that you already have it, you simply wouldn’t be procrastinating and doubting yourself. Because there is NOTHING to do and there is NOTHING to doubt. All of that nonsense comes from your human self (outer self) and you keep accepting it as final! If you have the urge to check the 3D for results, you do not understand. If you’ve been asking where your manifestation is, you do not understand. If you give yourself time crunches, you do not understand. If you are asking bloggers for help, you do not understand. If you expect something to happen, you do not understand. If you are waiting for something, you do not understand. If manifesting requires effort, you do not understand. If manifesting is mentally draining, you do not understand. If you’re feeling impatient, you do not understand. If you’re feeling discouraged, you do not understand. If you forgot to persist for a day and then spiral, you do not understand. If you get worried when you “fall out” of the state, you do not understand. If you think its possible to fall out of the state, you also do not understand. If you view manifesting as a process, you do not understand. If you think that manifestation is not instant, you do not understand.

You will never stop being God. You cannot fall out of your desired state when you acknowledge that you are God. That’s like saying you’ve lost your own consciousness. You are consciousness itself. You cannot lose it. You can’t fall out of it. You will always have it. You are it. Your consciousness is EVERYTHING. That means that you ARE your desires. There is absolutely NOTHING outside of you. Every little thing that you dare to put on a pedestal other than yourself (the audacity!) is WITHIN YOU! That huge mansion the size of Monaco? It’s within you. That celebrity s/o? Within you. Desired appearance? Within you. Fairy wings? Within you. Teleporting to planet mars? Within you. Waking up with a completely new life? Within you. Everything and anything you could possibly imagine? Within you. Oh don’t tell me that wasn’t obvious! So you may ask yourself…“why does it feel so far away?”

The two biggest human limitations are the 3D & time, and you are not going to break free from those limitations until you realise that the I AM does NOT experience the 3D & time. In the void state, you do not experience the 3D or time. At all. In that moment you are in your PUREST form. You are faceless and formless. Conditioned to absolutely nothing, just being aware of existing. So where am I going with this? Let me dumb it down for you. The I AM does NOT experience the 3D & Time. REAL YOU = I AM. Therefore, the REAL YOU does NOT experience the 3D or TIME. Got it? Ok now let’s bring manifestation into this. Here’s how the equation SHOULD BE:

1. REAL YOU/I AM: “Hm, I want to manifest xyz. I now decide that I have xyz. Therefore I have xyz.”

2. REAL YOU/I AM: Good thing that I do not experience the 3D or time at all, so I have no limitations and don’t have to look at the 3D for proof or track time. I understand that I only have what I desire in imagination because that is my real reality since I AM the creator of everything. I truly understand that I have my desire right now because I AM. -> (This part MAJORLY corresponds with THIS POST! Read it if you haven’t or chances are that you will not understand the concept of having it NOW).

3. REAL YOU/I AM: *Experiences having xyz instantly because limitations do not exist in the I AM, and there is no 3D & time to tell me otherwise because it doesn’t exist in the I AM *

4. REAL YOU/I AM: *3D conforms after persisting in desired assumption(s)* Cool…wasn’t expecting or waiting for anything. I really am limitless. It didn’t even bother me that I didn’t see movement in the 3D or time, I just knew I had my desire(s) right now because I AM and that’s all that matters.

And here’s how your outer self treats manifestation:

1. OUTER YOU: “Hm, I want to manifest xyz. I now decide that I have xyz. Therefore I have xyz.”

2. OUTER YOU: *2 days pass* The 3D still hasn’t conformed. It’s okay! It will conform soon. *2 more days pass* I still don’t have my manifestation. Where is it??? It’s already been four days!!!

3. OUTER YOU: *spirals because the 3D didn’t conform, and the magical 3 days have already passed* *fails to understand that the 3D is only a reflection of the 4D* *views manifestation from the outer self and acts surprised when they are blinded by limitations*

4. OUTER YOU: What am I doing wrong? Let me read more posts and ask bloggers for help.

See how that doesn’t make sense..? When you are manifesting, and you view it from your outer self, consider yourself an idiot. As Edward Art said before, “the outer man sees nothing but limitations.” And when you view manifestation from that outer self, you are surrounded by nothing but those limitations (3D & Time). But when you view manifestation FROM your INNER (God) Self, you don’t experience any limitations at all.

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ィ DETACHING FROM UR 3D SELF & CONCEPT OF TIME⠀࿐

I’m not talking about derealisation or anything like that. I am talking about tapping into your true self. It’s not some sort of magical “click” that you’ll feel. Or maybe for some of you it might. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you KNOW who you actually are. Beyond this physical vessel (body).

I hope you realise that the only reason i’m telling you to unidentify with these things is because they genuinely have nothing to do with you. They aren’t you. And it’s hard watching you imbeciles sabotage yourselves over something that has nothing to do with you. I’m not trying to get you to convince yourselves that you have your desires. I’m getting you to understand that you already do! It’s the most important understand of all. I’ve seen blogs saying “be delusional”…how about you start being the opposite and believing in what’s actually real. The only time you’re being delusional is when you’re taking the 3D for an answer. And as you know by now, the 3D doesn’t exist to a purely conscious being, in other words, you.

“The 3D doesn’t exist to a purely conscious being, in other words, you.” This may be the second most important understanding of all, after creation is finished. Because the whole point of the law of assumption is that your 3D self is NOT the one experiencing your desires, it is the INNER SELF who has it! The INNER self does NOT experience the 3D AT ALL!!! So WHY on GOD’S GREEN EARTH would YOU (GOD) fool yourself by the delusions of the 3D when you KNOW that it isn’t you. You are NOT supposed to be experiencing your desires in the 3D, and you HAVE to come to terms with that. All of your desperation to have your desires in the 3D comes from the OUTER SELF who DESIRES to experience it in the 3D!! All of your FULFILLMENT of already having your desires in the 4D comes from THE INNER SELF (REAL/GOD SELF) who ALREADY POSSESSES IT, BECAUSE YOU ARE IT!! YOU ARE YOUR DESIRES BECAUSE THERE IS SIMPLY NOTHING OUTSIDE OF YOU!!! Therefore nothing is out of reach (don’t you find comfort in the fact that all your desires come from within you, and you are the only one who can grant yourself with them?), and there is no waiting for anything, because there is NO concept of time in the I AM except NOW! Therefore you can only have your desires NOW. Hence, the fact that “waiting” simply doesn’t exist. To wait, is to be illogical, and a fucking dumbarse too.

You realise the 3D is YOUR creation right?! Like, YOURS. Your actual CREATION. The world is LITERALLY your oyster, whether you like it or not. The 3D has been bending over backwards for you ever since you were born. Listening to you. Reflecting you. Reflecting what you condition to your I am-ness. You are supposed to be viewing manifestation as your REAL self. That is why it is so easy. You WILL struggle if you view manifestation from your OUTER self, who is ruthlessly surrounded by limitations and “contradictions”. It would be heartless to ask you to just ignore that, and blame you cause you can’t. Since the 3D & time do not exist to the REAL you (pure consciousness/I AM), there is nothing to contradict your new story. Unless you let your outer self take the wheel, and drive right off a cliff. Read that again, there is nothing to contradict your new story. There is nothing to contradict your new story. There is nothing to contradict your new story. Why? Because the real you is devoid of the concept of the 3D & time. It doesn’t exist to you. Yes, it exists to the 3D you (your physical body), but you don’t identify with that anymore. (It would be pretty pathetic to view yourself as nothing but your body wouldn’t it…) Therefore, the 3D & time do not exist to you, there is only now. You can only have your desires now. Right now. Not later. Now. In imagination. Now. When you are manifesting, you are not supposed to be viewing it from your 3D self because that is not the one who has it.

Do you FINALLY understand what you’re doing “wrong”? You can do no “wrong” in the god state. Whichever way you want to manifest is the correct way AS LONG AS you feel that you have it. You may not feel too great about it at first but I promise you’ll get there. You just accept these limitations and roll with it. I’m not telling you to IGNORE. I’m telling you to unidentify. And if you’ve read my previous golden posts, you’d understand that those are two very different things. If you apply this post that you’re reading right now, to my full guide post on manifestation, you will truly realise your God self. And you will truly understand how painfully easy manifestation is and you’ll have a good laugh at your old self for thinking it was difficult or required effort. God doesn’t need effort. Some may tell you that “you’re the only one stopping yourself” but they’re wrong. It’s everything that isn’t you that’s really “stopping” you, the only part you play in that, is by letting them and choosing to identify with it. All the real you is doing, is rooting for you.

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ィ⠀HOW TO ENTER THE GOD STATE⠀࿐

Now for the big question. How exactly do you enter the god state? Surprise surprise, but it’s actually not something to “enter”. It is something to realise. And after this post, you should be able to pinpoint exactly who you truly are. SO that you can finally start viewing manifestation FROM your real self, instead of your human body surrounded by limitations. Remember, “The outer man sees nothing but limitations.” Now i’m going to carry you through realising your god (true) self. All you have to do is sit back and listen.

STEP 1: UNDERSTANDING

First and foremost, there is NOTHING more important than understanding who you truly are. But i’m sure we’ve clearly established that in this post. So for once, can we move on from this victim mindset? The outer you sees nothing but limitations, but God holds nothing but power. So I ask very nicely, before you proceed with any further steps, make sure you fully understand everything I have told you in this post (You are God/Creator, You already have your desires, your desires are within you, and that the 3D does not exist to a purely conscious being, only to the outer you (physical body). With these understandings, also comes with the understanding that there is nothing to get or wait for, so when you scrap the idea of the 3D and time, you won’t have a desire for confirmation and conforming of the 3D. This is what happens when the point actually doesn’t fly right over your head. Isn’t that refreshing?

STEP 2: REALISATION/REMEMBRANCE

Realisation? Don’t be fooled or intimidated. This part is extremely simple. All of them are. All you have to do is remember who you truly are. Now that you know what the I AM is from the first part of this post, I want you to feel it. All you have to do is close your eyes. All you have to focus on, is just being aware.

Quote from the first section of this post: “I want you to close your eyes. Focus on the darkness behind your eyes. In your mind, repeat the phrase “I am”. Don’t condition anything to it. Simply just, “I am”. Focus on just being aware. Focus on just being. Just being. Being. You are simply just aware. And that is the I AM.”

Focus on that feeling of just purely existing. Just being purely aware. You are NOT your physical body. When I say “you”, you should know that I mean the I AM. I AM is ALWAYS aware. Tie that feeling of awareness to the feeling of being God. Feel yourself to be all powerful. You will naturally feel inclined to feeling powerful in that state because you are finally acknowledging your real self who is all powerful. To sum up this step, and for further understanding (not optional!! i see you), read my YOU ARE VOID post. I don’t care if you’ve read it before. Read it again. Now that you FEEL yourself to be I AM, let’s move onto the next part.

STEP 3: APPLICATION

Now, for the final part. The part all of you seem to hate most. But the most important part of all. Application. And what does that mean exactly? Putting all the information that you know to good use. The best part is, you don’t even have to lift a finger. The worst part is, you still somehow find a way to procrastinate. But that ends now.

So here’s what’s going to happen. Randomly throughout your day, you will remind yourself of who you truly are, which is I AM. You will do the short “exercise” above, in the second step to remind yourself of who you actually are, beyond this physical body. All you are doing is reminding yourself.

You are not “manifesting” becoming God, you are coming to terms with the fact that you already are. And all you are doing is feeling it. Before you ask, no, you are not “feeling it real” when doing this. You are literally just feeling yourself to be pure awareness which is a fact. The sole purpose of this step is to REMIND yourself that you are God, so that you can stop being blinded by human limitations.

The purpose of this? As you are reminding yourself that you are god, you will actually start to “realise” it. Even though after reading this post, you know that you are god, I could understand why some may not yet feel themselves to be god. Our whole lives we’ve been blinded by human limitations left right and centre, especially when in terms of manifestation. You will genuinely laugh in the face of the 3D & time, without a care for it because you know that it is irrelevant to you, because you are so much bigger than it. You are God, and all this is, is your simple creation. You are finally viewing manifestation for what it truly is, from the viewpoint of your TRUE self. Your God self is the one who has the desires, not the outer self. And now you’re finally going to view manifestation from your true self, the one who truly has the desire(s), and the only one who can truly experience having. Also, being in the god state helps you get rid of the idea of having to do methods, put in effort and there even being a “right way” to manifest. All you have to do is know that you are the creator and that you have all your desires. In the god state, everything is effortless.

And as for dealing with the 3D? As long as you stay loyal to knowing who you truly are, everything will be more than okay.

MOST IMPORTANT UNDERSTANDINGS:

If you have magically failed to understand that:

1. CREATION IS FINISHED.

2. THE 3D DOES NOT EXIST TO A PURELY CONSCIOUS BEING, IN OTHER WORDS, YOU.

3. THE ONLY CONCEPT OF TIME IN THE I AM IS NOW, THEREFORE, WAITING DOES NOT EXIST.

4. YOU ARE NOT “THINKING AS IF”, YOU ARE THINKING “AS IT ALREADY IS.” (you literally have it. like genuinely actually have it. it’s literally here in imagination which is your true reality…there is nothing to pretend or desire to have).

5. THERE IS NO “RIGHT WAY” TO MANIFEST. GOD DOES WHATEVER GOD WANTS. DO WHATEVER REMINDS YOU THAT YOU ARE GOD AND THAT YOU HAVE YOUR DESIRES. DO IT YOUR WAY.

6. LASTLY, IN THE GOD STATE, NOTHING FEELS IMPOSSIBLE OR DIFFICULT. IN THE GOD STATE, YOU KNOW WITHOUT A DOUBT.

You may struggle without these understandings. And they are very, very easy to understand. There is no failure to understand, there is only failure to listen & apply.

IF I COULD SUMMARISE THIS POST INTO 11 QUOTES:

✩ “god state = I AM (real you)”

✩ “the 3D doesn’t exist to a purely conscious being, in other words, you.” (There is no concept of the 3D & time in the god state).

✩ “YOU are the void state. Faceless & formless.”

✩ “The two biggest human limitations are the 3D & time, and you are not going to break free from those limitations until you realise that the I AM does NOT experience the 3D & time.”

✩ “The I AM does NOT experience the 3D & Time. REAL YOU = I AM. Therefore, the REAL YOU does NOT experience the 3D or TIME.” (In other words, the real you experiences no limitations).

✩ “when you view manifestation FROM your INNER (God) Self, you don’t experience any limitations at all.”

✩ “I’m not trying to get you to convince yourselves that you have your desires. I’m getting you to understand that you already do!”

✩ “There is absolutely NOTHING outside of you. Every little thing that you dare to put on a pedestal other than yourself is WITHIN YOU!”

✩ “Because the whole point of the law of assumption is that your 3D self is NOT the one experiencing your desires, it is the INNER SELF who has it! The INNER self does NOT experience the 3D AT ALL!!! So WHY would YOU (GOD) fool yourself by the delusions of the 3D when you KNOW that it isn’t you.”

✩ “Tie that feeling of awareness to the feeling of being God. Feel yourself to be all powerful.” (Now you feel yourself to be I AM).

✩ “in the god state, nothing feels impossible or difficult.” (my personal favourite).

SUMMARY: The 3D & time are the two biggest (only) human limitations when it comes to manifestation. Once you get rid of those two concepts, you unlock your God (real) self and realise that you truly and whole heartedly have it now in imagination because it is the only reality. You are I AM. You are the void state. You are nothing but pure consciousness. You are all powerful. You are God/Creator. Drill this post into your brain, read it over and over again until you FULLY understand.

P.S. I AM is the only power that exists, which is you. XOXO

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[g1rld1ary]

long time no see - aaron hotchner x hs gf!reader

wc: 1395

cw: minor drinking

me: first time writing for hotch so sorry if there are characterisation issues!!!! i love this pairing so feel free to send reqs if u want more from them bc they're cuties <33

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“Aaron Hotchner am I dreaming or is that you?” You called from across the semi-quiet bar of some middle-of-the-road restaurant. You weren’t 100% convinced it was really him, but the upright posture and stern side profile brought back a lifetime of memories.

Aaron turned quickly, almost paranoid, but his face flashed through a thousand emotions as he took in the sight of you. He settled on what looked like joy, though it was always a little bit of a gamble with him, especially after so many years apart. The intricacies of his expressions weren’t intimacies you were entitled to anymore.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, reciprocating your warm embrace, “You look great.”

“As do you, Aaron. This suit is really nice.” You ran your fingers along his lapels. It was a gesture probably too familiar for two people who hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years, but seeing Aaron had already had an effect on you.

“Do you live around here?” Hotch asked again, a hand warm on your bicep even as you’d stopped hugging.

“Just moved back,” You answered brightly, “Spent the last decade or so in New York but, you know, my parents are getting older. Thought it was time to come home.”

“I’m glad. It’s really great to see you.”

“What are you up to now? Still—”

“Hotch!” A voice interrupted, “Our table’s ready. Who’s this?” The man was obviously a few years younger than Aaron which made you question their relationship — coworkers was the most likely answer, but they seemed awfully comfortable together. Behind them, you caught a glance of a larger group all looking at you curiously. You weren’t ashamed to say you were intimidated.

Aaron took a long look at you as he considered how to answer his friend’s question.

“An old friend from high school.” He introduced you both, and you took particular notice of the title Morgan was given.

“SSA?” You asked, “Like the FBI? I thought you were going to be a lawyer, Aaron?”

“Your friend is team leader of the BAU,” Morgan laughed as Hotch’s humble nature started to show, “He’s a bit of a top dog around the FBI.”

“I can see that.” You were impressed, you hadn’t imagined your high school boyfriend would end up as an important FBI agent.

“I was a prosecutor for a while,” Aaron conceded to make you feel better, “But I’ve been with the FBI for a while now, I feel like I’m making more of a difference.”

You shook your head with a small laugh, “You’re as good as you used to be, Aaron Hotchner. Tell me, has he developed any flaws since he’s been at the BAU?” You directed the question over to Morgan, whose interested surprise was clear in his expression. Evidently, he didn’t exactly agree with you, though you could see plainly how much he respected him.

“Let’s just say you wouldn’t want to be an incompetent local cop — I’m pretty sure he knows more insults than the rest of the team combined.”

“Will you eat with us?” Aaron changed the subject suddenly, “Unless, of course, you have other plans.”

You glanced over at the novel sitting in your now-vacant seat and didn’t think twice. You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing over to collect your things and return before the invitation could be rescinded.

You tried to stay calm as you approached the immensely intimidating table of FBI agents, all doing a poor job of acting as if they hadn’t just been talking about you.

“Hi,” You smiled, sitting down in the empty seat next to Aaron. You were immediately bombarded with questions. About yourself, your life, your relationship with Aaron. It was overwhelming, but you liked the energy and you liked seeing Aaron all grown up.

It was clear his team respected him, you could see it in every look they gave him, and you didn’t even need to be a profiler to notice it. You were strangely proud of him despite not having been in his life for the majority of adulthood, but you supposed everyone always had a bit of a soft spot for their first love.

“Why did you two break up?” Doctor Reid, the youngest of the group, asked as you all tucked into your food. You looked at Aaron for a long moment, a million memories slingshotting themselves to the forefront of your brain.

“I hardly remember,” You answered finally, “I’m sure it wasn’t a good reason — it rarely is when you’re young. I daresay I was probably jealous of the college girls getting to see Aaron every day whilst I was in AP Lang.”

“You’re younger?” Elle asked with sudden interest, a teasing smile on her lips. You nodded, picking up your wine glass.

“Two years.”

“My man!” Derek cheered and you were sure he would have tried to dap his boss up if it wasn’t so entirely anti-Hotch.

The dinner, though definitely a little strange, was full of joy and you enjoyed it immensely. The BAU were a group of such lovely people, they were immediately welcoming to you. They did, however, make you feel old.

Spencer was practically a child, only twenty-three, you and Aaron had already been broken up for a few years by twenty-three! Elle wasn’t much older, and Garcia and Morgan acted a bit like twelve-year-olds when together. You were told stories about Gideon, an older agent who’d built the BAU, but apparently he’d flaked dinner.

The meal wrapped up, and you couldn’t stop your gratitude flowing out for the wonderful night you’d had. Maybe you were a little bit wine drunk. Luckily the team all reciprocated, expressing fond wishes to see you again.

“Can I drive you home?” Aaron asked as the table began collecting their things and pulling on coats.

“That would be nice,” You beamed, “Just let me pop to the bathroom or I’ll be pissing in your car seats again. Uh, don’t ask.” Garcia giggled behind her hand as you darted off through the restaurant.

“She seems nice,” Elle said, buttoning up her coat.

“She is nice. It’s nice to reconnect with an old friend.”

“She might be nice but she’s not a friend, man. She looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky.” Hotch shook his head at Derek’s accusation, but there was definitely the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“It’s true,” Reid piped up, “Her pupils dilated significantly when looking at you, she was almost always leant towards you with open posture, and she brushed her hair behind her ear sixteen times during the meal.” He awkwardly reciprocated Morgan’s offered high-five.

Hotch was a perfect gentleman, even when you weren’t dating. He’d given you his arm as you strolled down toward his car in a nearby parking lot and opened the passenger door for you to hop in. When you’d told him the address to your flat he didn’t plug it in the GPS which was inconsequential but hugely impressive.

“Who would’ve thought after all these years we’d be back in the same city, driving around town late at night?” You sighed contentedly, watching lights and buildings pass through the rain-spotted window.

Aaron hummed in agreement, both hands on the steering wheel. You liked to watch them, you always had.

“Let’s not leave it so long next time, hm?” Aaron said as he escorted you up to your apartment door. You didn’t invite him in and he showed no indication of wanting to enter. The night was enough. “It was really great to see you.”

You smiled, a warm, genuine one that had Aaron smiling back. For a moment you saw his eighteen-year-old self in it, the image of him kissing you goodnight after his prom fresh in your mind.

“Aaron?” You called him back and he didn’t hesitate, long strides bringing him back to you in moments. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, pleased by his gentle surprise, “I really missed you.”

[azzibuckets]

sweet [part five]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count: 3.1k

masterlist | sweet masterlist

It’s fleeting, the hardened look that passes over Azzi eyes. If Paige wasn’t so familiar with even the subtlest shifts in Azzi’s body language, she would’ve missed it. The squint of her eyes, the tenseness of her jaw; Azzi’s not just upset, she’s furious. And Paige has always felt bad for the people Azzi’s felt this way towards, the silent anger radiating off a face that was normally bright with a dimpled smile. She’s always thanked God that it was never her, that between them it’s always been a back and forth of shy smiles and blushes.

But now Azzi is staring at her as if she doesn’t even recognize her, and Paige is at an utter loss of what to do. “It’s always just sex with you, isn’t it?” Azzi says wryly. She pushes harshly away from Paige, wiping her neck, as if trying to erase the marks already bruising her skin. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait, Azzi.” But Azzi ignores her, flipping to her side and pulling the sheets tight over her rigid body.

Paige knows there’s no use in arguing. It seems like hours that she stares at the ceilings, scared to even move. Tears gather at the corner of her eyes. Furious at herself, she scrubs them away. And she’s almost asleep, the physical and the mental exhaustion from the day creeping up on her, when she hears sniffles coming from the other side of the bed. And then Azzi is crying, and it takes everything in Paige to not turn around and take the other girl in her arms.

Azzi makes it a point to ignore her the entire time during rehab the next day and on the drive home. As soon as they return to Storrs, she locks herself in her room with Micaela, making it clear that she wants nothing to do with Paige.

But after a week of sleepless nights, Paige has had enough. She can’t stand the thought of living in a world where Azzi can’t even bear to look at her. Knowing Azzi won’t respond to any of her texts or calls, she takes it upon herself to check her apartment, but the younger girl’s room is empty, looking a little bare. Confused, she runs to Werth and checks the gym, the media room, and finally the kitchen, only to find Amari and Caroline the only ones there. “Where’s Azzi?”

Amari and Caroline exchange concerned looks. “She left,” Amari says gently. “She didn’t tell you?”

“Left?” Paige’s head spins. “Where’d she go?”

“Back to Virginia. She said she’s gonna finish out her rehab there.”

“What? Did she tell you guys?”

Amari looks at her, worried. “She told all of us last week, the day y’all came back from New York. We thought you knew?”

The day they came back from New York. “Fuck. How long is she gone for?”

“Probably past the end of season, maybe even the end of the semester,” Amari says, her eyes rounding in worry as she observes Paige’s increasingly frantic state.

“Fuck,” Paige repeats, massaging her temples. “She left and she didn’t even tell me?”

“You kinda deserve it,” Caroline says pointedly, always Azzi’s biggest defender.

Paige tries to muster up a glare at the brunette, but she’s exhausted, and she knows she has no one to blame but herself. “Yeah, I know,” she finally mutters dejectedly.

“So what’re you gonna do?” Amari questions.

Paige slumps into a chair beside them, kicking at the leg of the table. “I don’t fucking know. She doesn’t even wanna talk to me anymore.”

“Then make her.”

“What?”

“Go to Virginia. Apologize and make things right,” Caroline says, her voice hard. “I’m sick and tired of hearing you two pine over each other.”

In a daze, Paige walks the entire way back to her apartment. By the time she unlocks the door, she’s already bought a plane ticket for the same night. She startles when hands touch her shoulder and spin her around. “What’s up? You look pale.”

“Azzi went back home,” Paige responds distractedly, tapping at her screen as she texts Tim asking if he can pick up her from the airport.

“Home?” Ella laughs. “Well, she finally listened.”

That gets Paige’s attention. Looking up from her phone, she squints. “What?”

“I asked her to give you space,” Ella cocks her head. “She said she would, but you guys went to fucking rehab together last week. But now she’s gone, so I guess she really did listen.”

A knot of something painful starts to form at the base of Paige’s head. “You- what? Why the fuck would you ask my best friend to give me space?” she demands.

“Dude, you’re always so fucked up worrying about her. Even now, you look like you just fainted.” Ella regards her coldly. “Excuse me for wanting us to go on one date without you thinking of her.”

When Paige stares at her, her mouth agape, Ella steps even closer, wrapping a hand around her bicep. “Come on,” she purrs. “We can have so much fun now that’s she gone.”

“We’re over.” Ella has the audacity to look surprised.

Paige grabs her purse from the coffee table and pushes it roughly into her chest, causing the girl to stumble back. “Now get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Paige is already in her room by the time the door slams shut. She stuffs things haphazardly into her backpack as her mind reels. Azzi had left. Azzi had thought Paige didn’t care about her. The mere thought of Azzi thinking she could ever be a burden makes Paige feel sick with fury. God, she had said all those things to Azzi, just for her best friend to think she was doing her a favor?

••

“Thank you for picking me up on such short notice.” Paige fiddles nervously with the straps of her backpack. “I’m not sure if coming here was a good idea but-”

“Paige,” Tim interrupts her train of thought, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. “You know you’re always welcome. But, just a warning…Azzi might not be the happiest that you’re here. But give her some time, and she’ll cool down. She always does.” Tim’s unwavering confidence should give Paige a boost of the same energy, but it only shakes her up more. Everyone’s expecting them to make up like they always do after every petty fight, but what if they can’t make it through? What if this is it? Paige has never fucked up like this, never hurt Azzi so much that the younger girl felt the need to put multiple states between the two of them.

When Tim pulls into the driveway, Paige asks for a moment. The older man gives her a comforting hug before heading up to the house first, giving her space. Taking a deep breath to try and calm her racing heartbeat, she fluffs up the flowers, attempting to make them look prettier. She adjusts and readjusts the envelope placed in the middle of the petals. She runs her hands through her hair and scrubs at the stain at her sweater but to no avail. Paige is going to apologize to Azzi, and she’s going to make it right. Rolling her shoulders, she steps out of the car and marches to the front door.

Before she can even reach for the handle, the door swings open. Paige blinks.

“You’re here,” Jon sighs in relief, throwing his body at her. Paige balks for a moment before returning the hug.

“Were you watching me?”

Jon smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, but you were taking so long. Why were you looking in the mirror so much? You look fine.”

Paige blushes and pushes him away. “Stop stalking me.”

Jon beams at her again, before his smile drops suddenly. “Uh, just so you know, her girlfriend’s here too.”

And just like that, all the confidence Paige has spent the last fifteen minutes gathering disappears. Paige clears her throat, not sure if she heard him right. “Micaela’s here?”

“They were calling for a long time yesterday night. And she showed up this morning.” Jon pauses, looking at her meaningfully. “With a suitcase.” Then his smile is back, just as bright as it was before. “I talked to her a bit. She’s cool. But you’re Paige.” He pushes her towards the staircase. “Go.”

Azzi’s door is opened a crack, and Paige peeks through. Micaela and Azzi are on her bed, Azzi snuggled in her arms. They’re watching something on the TV. Micaela kisses the top of Azzi’s head, and Azzi looks up at her and laughs.

Fuck. Paige can’t do this. She backs away from the door. Micaela, she treats her so well. She puts Azzi first. And Micaela hasn’t hurt Azzi like Paige has. This is the biggest Paige has seen Azzi smile in months - her best friend is finally happy.

In that moment Paige decides that she needs to let Azzi go. She sets her bouquet of flowers down outside the room as quietly as possible. She takes the envelope, crumples it up and puts it in her pocket. She was stupid for ever thinking that flowers and a letter would make up for all the shit she’s put Azzi through.

“Where are you going?” Paige is halfway out the front door when a firm voice stops her.

“Home.”

“Come in and close the door.” Paige wants to tell Katie that she isn’t her mother and that she has no right to tell her what to do. But Katie has been there for her when her own mother hasn’t, has welcomed her into her home for months at a time and still checks up on her every week over text. So she closes the door and faces the older woman, unable to look at the eyes so similar to the ones she’s fallen in love with.

Katie beckons for her to sit, and she follows suit. “As her mother, I don’t think I’m supposed to say this,” Katie says slowly. “But don’t give up, Paige.”

“She’s literally sitting in there with her girlfriend.” Paige’s bottom lip trembles. “I’m too fucking late, and I can’t even blame anyone but myself.”

“I know it feels like there’s no solution. But-”

“With all respect, you don’t understand, Katie.” Paige cuts her off. “I don’t think we can ever go back to the way we were.”

“And that’s the problem. You’re so focused on trying to return back to normal but is that what you really want? Maybe it’s good you guys can’t ever be the same again. Maybe it’s good you two take the risk to become something more.”

Paige stands up, resolute this time as she reaches for her duffel. “I can’t,” she says. “I can’t ruin this for her.”

“Stay,” Katie urges. “If not for Azzi, at least for yourself. I just checked the weather. There’s going to be a blizzard. It’s not safe for you to travel.”

Paige is about to open her mouth to protest before a familiar voice rings out. “Mom?” Azzi bounds down the stairs, a smile on her face. Micaela is close behind, reaching for her waist and laughing. But then Azzi’s eyes shift to where Katie’s looking, and she sees Paige. Her face drops immediately, and the action is enough to send Paige’s stomach hurdling. “Paige?”

Paige lifts a hand, forcing a weak smile onto her face. “Hey.”

Katie glances between the two of them. “Azzi, sweetie, Paige is here to stay for a few days,” she says lightly.

Azzi scoffs, disbelief etched onto her face. “Like hell she is.” She walks up to Paige, jabbing a finger in her face. “You can’t just show up at my house and expect everything to be fine, you asshole.”

“She can’t go home right now,” Katie says gently. “The snow’s six feet thick outside. It’s not safe.”

“We’ll find a way to make it work,” Micaela says softly, grabbing Azzi’s wrist in an effort to calm her down. “Let’s go, Az.”

Paige burns. No one calls Azzi that but her. Azzi glares at Paige one last time before following her girlfriend back upstairs. Katie’s eyes follow them, worried, until she heaves a sigh and faces Paige again. “Come on, hon,” she says. “You can stay in the guest room.”

Before now, Paige has never stepped foot in the guest room. It’s always gone without saying that whenever she stayed over, Azzi’s room became hers. Their clothes would mix in heaps on the floor until Paige would return home with a suitcase full of items half hers, half Azzi’s. The scent of lavender in the room would, for a few weeks, be overtaken by the more woodsy scent of Paige’s cologne. Now, the guest room is clean and airy, and it smells like lilacs.

Paige doesn’t like it.

But she sets her stuff down and texts the group chat to let them know she won’t be home for a few days.

Dinner is a silent affair, with Tim trying but failing to crack jokes to lighten the mood. Paige occupies herself with Jon and Jose, asking them about their basketball season and school, while Azzi talks in low tones to Micaela from across the table.

Paige is picking at the food on her plate when Micaela’s voice brings her out of her thoughts. “So, Paige, how long are you here for?”

Paige swallows her broccoli a little bit too quickly and coughs. “However long it takes for the storm to die down and my flight to clear.”

“And what were you here for?”

To finally confess to your girlfriend that I’m in love with her. Paige stabs another broccoli with her fork. “Just had some stuff to do in the area.”

“No use paying for a hotel when we have an extra room here,” Katie pitches in, saving her from having to lie even more. And while it’s clear neither Micaela or Azzi believe her, they don’t prod any further, leaving Paige to finish her food in silence.

••

“Can’t sleep?”

Paige turns around, surprised to see Micaela standing there, her expression clear. She leans back against the counter, tipping back her drink. “Something like that.”

“Mind if I join?”

Paige’s first instinct is to say no, but she realizes with a start that this is the girl Azzi loves. And if Azzi loves her, and she loves Azzi, there must be some part of her that can get along with Micaela. So she nods. “There’s grenadine and lemonade in the fridge.”

Micaela rummages through the fridge before returning with a concoction of her own. They stand in silence for a while, each of them sipping their own drinks, until Micaela says, “I’m not stupid. I know something happened between the two of you when you went to New York.”

Paige stares down at her glass, tracing its rim with her thumb. “Look,” she finally responds. “I fucked up with Azzi. I hurt her, a lot. I didn’t wanna come to terms with my feelings because I was a pussy. But don’t make that same mistake. I see you with her,” Paige pauses. “And she looks like how she used to. Before her injury. And if you’re the one who can bring her back to that, then I’m gonna help you.”

Micaela nods, taking everything in. “You still love her.”

“I don’t think I’ve admitted that to myself yet.” Paige finishes off her drink. “She was - is my best friend before anything else. I know that she knows I’ll die for her even if we never end up talking again. And I think I can be okay with that. That as long as she knows that I have her back, that there’s someone who’s always on her side, then I’ll be fine.”

Micaela tilts her head, studying her carefully. “Thank you,” she says softly.

Paige turns away, her eyes burning. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for Azzi.”

••

Paige stays true to her word. She sends Micaela Azzi’s rehab schedule and at-home therapy treatments. She carefully compiles a list of her comfort movies and shows and texts them to Micaela. When Azzi has a particularly rough day at rehab, Paige spends the entire time she’s gone building a pillow fortress on the couch in the basement. When Azzi’s in a mood, she likes feeling like a child again - it makes her worries a little smaller, a little easier to deal with. So Paige lays out blankets, fluffs up pillows, and buys popcorns and caprisuns from the store.

When Azzi comes home and hugs Micaela, raving about how cute it is and how much she appreciates it, Paige lingers near the stairs of the basement. The sound of Azzi’s giggles, even if not aimed at her, put a smile on her face.

She looks up as Tim passes by. He fixes her with a stern look. “Just so you know, I don’t approve of anything you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” Paige tries to look innocent.

“You’re only going to hurt yourself doing this, Paige,” he warns.

Paige bites down on her lip, the skin there already tender from all her worrying. “As long as she’s happy,” she says stubbornly.

“Stop hiding,” he says lowly. “Show her you love her.”

But Paige can’t.

So she continues to love Azzi from afar. She makes sure there’s always multiple ice packs in the freezer. She prays every night before bed that God will take Azzi’s pain away and speed up her recovery process. She texts Azzi’s old high school friends, letting them know she’s back in town and to drop by to say hello when they can.

It’s 12 am and she’s cutting up strawberries when she hears steps and heavy breathing from behind her. Turning around, she’s surprised to see Azzi glowering at her.

“I found out.”

“Found out what?” Paige’s mouth is dry. This is the first time Azzi’s addressed her directly since the day she arrived, and to say she’s nervous is an understatement.

“Everything.” Azzi clenches her jaw. “The pillow fortress? The ice packs? The fucking strawberries you’re cutting that will magically end up in my lunch bag with Nutella tomorrow?”

Paige drops the knife on the counter, as if that would make her look any less guilty.

“Why do you have to make things complicated?” Azzi says, her voice hoarse as if she’s been crying. “I think I’m finally over you and then you show up to my house and you start making me feel things for you that I shouldn’t feel.”

Paige takes a cautious step forward. “Why can’t you feel them?”

“I have a girlfriend. And aren’t you scared? Right now we can still go back to being us. We can be friends. But this-” Azzi’s voice cracks. “We’ve caused each other so much pain and we’ve never even been together that way. Imagine if we actually dated and we broke up. God, Paige, that would fucking wreck me. At least when we’re friends I can rest with the fact that you’ll always be there somehow.”

“So you don’t even wanna try?” Paige’s tone is incredulous.

“Do you have any idea how much power you have over me?” Azzi chokes out.

Paige closes her eyes briefly. “I would never hurt you.”

“How can you say that?” Tears leak from Azzi’s eyes. “How can you say that when you already have?”

“Azzi.” She reaches for her hand. “Let us try. You know - you know I love you? I know I’ve been an ass, and I’ve fucked up over and over again. But I can’t-”

“Stop.” Azzi shakes her off, walking backwards as if even being near Paige is physically hurting her. “Please don’t make this hurt more then it has to.” She crosses her arms over her chest, withdrawing into herself as she shivers. “I thought I finally found it. Micaela - she’s perfect. Was perfect. Doing all these things that only one person before has ever done for me. Then we get into an argument and I find out that you’re behind all this shit? That my girlfriend has been lying through her teeth this entire time? God. When am I ever gonna find someone that actually cares about me?”

“Azzi, I just need one chance. Please.” Paige watches Azzi back away, and every fiber in her being is screaming at her best friend to stop running away her. “I care about you. And I found out what Ella said. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Fucking hell, you’ve never been a burden to me, Azzi. How could you ever think that?”

“It’s not gonna work out, Paige. It won’t.”

“So that’s it?” Paige spreads her arms, lets then fall helplessly by her side. “You’re just gonna give up before we even try? Like a fucking coward?”

“You have no right calling me a coward,” Azzi laughs bitterly. “Not when you used me for sex and dipped whenever the conversation got too serious.”

“You’re the one who always left first, not me,” Paige grits out through her teeth. “You’re the one who suggested being friends with benefits. You are just as much guilty as I am.”

“Well, I regret it.” Azzi’s words come tumbling out before she can stop them. “I regret everything.”

“You regret everything?” Paige repeats back, shaking her head in disbelief. “I might be an asshole, but you’re even worse than I am. I can’t even believe you right now.”

“Go home.” Azzi turns her back, and her body shudders, as if she’s sobbing. “I don’t want you here. You should’ve never came.”

“Gladly,” Paige spits out. “I fucking hate you for this.” And as she stands there, chest heaving with the arrows she’s thrown, chest hurting with the hurt of everything said and unsaid, she knows that she’s lying. That she could never hate Azzi, as much as she tried. But everything hurts too fucking bad, and Azzi is looking at her as if she’s the worst thing in the world. And when Paige goes home and looks at herself in the mirror, she thinks that maybe Azzi isn’t too far off.

••

Azzi walks into the guest room. She lies on the bed, inhaling the faint scent of Paige still lingering in the air. She turns on her side, burrowing her face into one of the pillows when she hears something crinkle. Confused, she reaches into the bedsheets and finds a worn, crumpled card. Her heart skips a beat when she flattens it out and sees familiar handwriting scrawled messily across the paper.

Dear Azzi,

I talk a lot. But I think you know me well enough that I show my feelings best through actions, not words. I’ve said hurtful things to you. I don’t know how to verbalize myself in a way that makes sense.

But I care about our relationship, so I’m writing this letter to try and finally put into words correctly the way I feel about you, because it’s the least you deserve - something honest, and something real from me. I know if I try to say this all in person, I’ll fuck it up somehow. So here is my letter, to you, that I’ll probably read and rewrite a million times.

I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. But I do. And I know now that no one has ever made me feel what you do.

I know now that you were frustrated with me because you thought I never saw you beyond a friend with benefits. But I swear that everything I’ve done, everything I’ve hurt you with, was because I was trying to protect myself from the pain of realizing that you have always been more than just a friend. It has never been because I saw it as “just sex.” I saw it as more, I wanted it as more, and I was too immature to deal with it in a way that was kind to you. I’ll regret that forever.

I have never not loved you. I don’t think I will ever stop loving every single thing about you. And I keep repeating myself, but I really am sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give you everything that you deserve, but still, I want to try. Hence why I’m coming here like a sap with all the flowers and shit tryna win you back.

But if somehow everything goes wrong and we never end up speaking again, just know that I’ll think about you every night before I sleep, just like I do now. Just know that I’ll always give us a second chance. I think we are inevitable. (I hope i spelled that right)

And if hopefully everything goes right and you forgive me and I somehow am able to be a part of your life after everything, then I promise I’ll work every day to show that I am serious about us. No other person, no other distractions, nothing else. Just you.

But no matter what happens, whatever decision you choose, as long as you’re happy, I’ll find a way to be happy.

Love,

Paige

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (08)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 6.5k

Aliyah's Notes: i fucking hate this so much. i dont like anything about this chapter but the next chapters are gonna be yummy. hope u enjoy this trash :)

You stepped through the threshold into Rafe’s penthouse, and you were immediately struck by the space—clean, modern, and surprisingly immaculate. The quiet hum of New York City below faded, giving way to a silence you didn’t expect. The place felt polished, with clean lines and a minimalistic aesthetic that was entirely different from the messy and chaotic persona Rafe projected.

The living room opened up to an expansive view of SoHo’s city lights, stretching out in glittering rows beneath the vast windows. Soft, ambient lighting spills over sleek furniture—a large sectional couch in dark charcoal, a glass coffee table with a few tasteful magazines stacked in one corner, and a matching armchair positioned just right. Everything was so... neat. Even his shoes by the entryway were perfectly lined up.

You hesitated just inside the doorway, suddenly hyper-aware of the tension still knotted in your chest. After everything tonight, the walls of this calm, organized space almost seemed to close in around you, amplifying the turmoil still spinning inside your head.

“You can come in, you know,” Rafe’s voice broke the silence, snapping you back to the moment. He was standing beside you, watching as your eyes roved around the room. “Promise, there’s no trapdoor waiting to drop you,” he added, his attempt at humor softening his tone.

You managed a weak smile, stepping fully into the apartment. “Yeah, of course, no—uh, I guess I just… expected it to look different,” you admitted, letting your fingers drift over the cool surface of the console table by the door. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere.

“What did you expect?” He grinned, kicking off his own shoes and motioning for you to make yourself comfortable. “Mountain of pizza boxes? A shrine to myself?”

The corner of your mouth lifted, and despite yourself, you chuckled. “Something like that.”

“Thank you.” He placed a hand over his heart with exaggerated gratitude. “I’ve put a lot of work into fooling people into thinking I’m a responsible adult.”

That got another smile out of you, and for a moment, the silence settled into something comfortable. You took a few tentative steps further into the space, letting yourself take in the polished decor, the subtle hints of personality hidden in the smallest details—a leather-bound book resting on the side table, a worn-in baseball cap hanging from a hook by the door, the faintest scent of coffee lingering in the air.

“Here, let me take your jacket,” Rafe offered, holding out a hand. His voice was calm, and there was a warmth in his eyes as he met your gaze. You hesitated, gripping the edges of your coat a little tighter before relenting, letting him slide it off your shoulders and hang it neatly by the entryway.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No problem.” He gave a gentle nod, gesturing toward the couch. “Why don’t you sit for a minute? Or, if you want something to drink, I can grab you some water?”

The idea of sitting felt almost foreign to you, as if your body couldn’t settle even if you tried. “Water sounds nice,” you said, though your voice wavered as you followed him to the plush couch, perching awkwardly at the edge.

Rafe returned a moment later, handing you a glass of water. You muttered a thank you, taking a slow sip as he settled down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. For a while, the two of you just sat in silence, the soft hum of the city outside the only sound filling the space.

After a beat, Rafe broke the silence. “Wow,” he began, glancing sideways at you, “Tonight was insane.”

You nodded slowly, his words sinking in. For a moment, it felt like everything was too quiet, too still, and your mind began to race, searching for something—anything—to fill the silence.

As if sensing your discomfort, Rafe tried to lighten the mood, leaning back and stretching his arms across the couch. “So,” he started, an easy smile playing at his lips, “not to brag, but I make a mean cup of ramen. Best in New York. You hungry?”

The words landed like a trigger, setting off a wave of anxiety that you’d tried so hard to keep at bay. You felt your throat tighten, your heartbeat quickening as an overwhelming rush of emotions began to build. His casual offer had hit a nerve, and suddenly, the walls of the penthouse felt like they were closing in.

“I don’t… I don’t need anything,” you replied sharply, your voice wavering as your grip tightened around the glass of water. But Rafe’s well-meaning gaze didn’t falter, and the pressure inside you began to build, spiraling out of control.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice still gentle, still concerned, as if he wanted to make sure you were truly okay.

The question, that seemingly innocent offer, tore through you like a wound reopening. It was as if he’d taken a crowbar to a door you’d worked so hard to keep shut, prying it open until every raw, painful memory began flooding in, drowning you. Your breaths came faster, shallow, the room closing in around you as you tried to hold yourself together.

“No, I don’t want anything to eat! Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Your voice rose, sharper than you intended, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of something dark and manic. The walls seemed to close in around you as the noise in your mind grew louder and louder. “I don’t want to eat! I’m fine, okay? I don’t need anything!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned back slightly, hands raised in a calming gesture. “Whoa, hey… I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought… maybe you’d want something, that’s all.”

His words were gentle, but they only fueled the fire. “Everyone thinks I need to eat,” you continued, almost hysterical now, your voice shaking. “It’s always about food, isn’t it? Do they think I’m starving, or that I can’t take care of myself? I don’t need anyone to tell me to eat, or to make sure I’m doing it right, or to ask if I’m hungry every five seconds. I can take care of myself. I don’t need—”

Your voice cracked, and suddenly the weight of your own words hit you, the admission cutting deeper than you’d realized. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that had finally broken free. All of the pressure, the expectations, the shame—it all came crashing down, suffocating you.

Without waiting, you shot to your feet, stumbling as you rushed toward the bathroom. Your breaths were coming in ragged gasps now, your heart hammering in your chest as you slammed the door shut behind you. The mirror loomed in front of you, but you couldn’t bear to look at your reflection, couldn’t face the hollow, haunted expression staring back at you.

Instead, you leaned over the sink, gripping the edges until your knuckles turned white, trying to keep the nausea at bay. But it was too much—the panic, the shame, the weight of Rafe’s eyes on you, seeing everything you’d tried so hard to hide. With a shaky breath, you turned away from the sink and sank to your knees, the familiar wave of nausea rising as the tears spilled over, thick and heavy.

The sound of your own sobs echoed off the tiled walls, and you buried your face in your hands, feeling the last of your composure slip away. It was a battle you’d fought alone for so long, a pain you’d hidden from everyone, even yourself. But here, in this stark, sterile bathroom, the weight of it all felt like too much to bear. The shame, the desperation, the need for control—it all crashed over you like a wave, drowning out everything else until you were left gasping for air.

Your throat burned, and the nausea twisted deep in your stomach, leaving you hunched over the toilet bowl. You gripped the sides of it, trying to will the shame away, trying to breathe through the crushing weight of panic that made it hard to even look up.

Then the door opened, and you froze, shoulders tensing as you felt his presence behind you. You wanted to scream at him to go away, to leave you alone, but before you could, you felt his hands on your back, warm and steady, rubbing gentle circles along your spine.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low and calm, completely different from the usual playful, cocky tone. He crouched beside you, one hand reaching to hold your hair back, careful not to touch your face but close enough to keep it out of your way. It was a kindness you hadn’t expected—a tenderness that caught you off guard, that almost made it harder to keep from crying.

“Rafe…please…just go,” you choked out, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

But he stayed, his hand warm on your back, grounding you as your breaths came faster, rougher. “I’m not leaving,” he said quietly. “I don’t care about seeing you like this. Just focus on breathing. I’ve got you.”

Your shame deepened, the tears spilling over as the familiar cycle took hold, and you couldn’t stop it. But Rafe was right there, anchoring you, holding your hair gently and murmuring quiet reassurances as you retched, his hand never leaving your back.

When the worst of it passed, you slumped forward, feeling completely spent, the last shreds of your dignity scattered. You could barely bring yourself to lift your head, and when you finally did, you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. “You…you should’ve left,” you mumbled, your voice trembling as you wiped at your cheeks with shaky hands.

Rafe ignored your words, shifting so he could reach for a washcloth by the sink. He dampened it with warm water, and before you could protest, he gently tilted your chin, dabbing at your face with a gentleness that almost broke you. “Shh. You don’t have to say anything.”

The warmth of the cloth felt soothing against your skin, and the quiet intimacy of the moment—of Rafe here, with you in your most vulnerable state—left you speechless. He wasn’t supposed to see this side of you. This was meant to be an arrangement, something on paper, and yet here he was, his touch gentle, his gaze filled with an unexpected tenderness that left you feeling more exposed than ever.

Once he finished wiping your face, he reached for a glass of water, holding it out. “Here. Just rinse. You’ll feel better,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

You managed a weak nod, your hands trembling as you took the glass. After rinsing your mouth, you set it aside, still feeling hollow and raw, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Rafe didn’t pull away. He simply stayed close, watching you with a quiet patience that made your heart ache.

Then he reached into the cabinet, pulling out a tube of toothpaste. He unscrewed the cap, squeezing a bit onto a fresh toothbrush before handing it to you. “Here,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Trust me, it’ll help.”

His steady presence, his calm, unhurried movements, made it impossible to hide. You took the toothbrush, swallowing hard as you glanced away, barely able to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened to spill over. “You…you don’t have to do this,” you murmured, your voice breaking.

“I know,” he replied, his voice a soft murmur as he leaned back against the counter, staying close without crowding you. 

You closed your eyes, brushing your teeth in silence, every movement feeling surreal, like you’d stepped into someone else’s life. Rafe’s presence, his quiet support, felt too real, too genuine. For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that it was—all of it. That he was truly here for you, that you weren’t alone.

When you finally rinsed and set the toothbrush aside, he reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “There,” he said, his voice warm. “Better?”

You nodded, though words felt impossible. He offered a soft smile, his hand lingering at the edge of your shoulder. “You’re okay,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to keep this all to yourself, you know?”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the ache of those words settle deep inside you. This was supposed to be fake—a carefully crafted arrangement, a performance for the public eye. Yet here he was, holding you in a way that felt so real it hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

He shook his head, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “It’s all right. You don’t need to apologize.” For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence settling around you like a gentle blanket. Then, he tilted his head toward the hallway, his voice low and warm. “Come on, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping. You look exhausted.”

You nodded, the fight in you all but gone, and let him guide you down the hall.

He led you down the hallway off the living room, his hand light on your shoulder as if he was afraid to push too hard, but still determined to keep you steady. The quiet around you felt different now, no longer suffocating, but soothing. The weight of your earlier breakdown lingered, and you were acutely aware of his presence, the warmth of his hand anchoring you even as your mind replayed your outburst. But he said nothing, just kept moving forward, offering a silent comfort that, strangely, made you feel safe.

He opened the door to a room on the right, flipping on the light to reveal what appeared to be his guest room—if it could be called that. The room was filled with clutter: a stack of boxes against one wall, a few stray bags on the floor, and clothes that hadn’t quite made it into the closet. It was the only part of his home that didn’t feel curated, and you almost laughed at the mess, a strange relief filling you at the imperfection.

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed as he glanced around the room. “I, uh, haven’t really had the time to keep this room… organized,” he admitted, shooting you an apologetic smile. “Usually, it’s just storage, but—well, it has a bed.” He gestured to a neatly made bed tucked into the far corner, the only part of the room untouched by the chaos.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips. “No, it’s perfect.”

Rafe’s expression softened, his hand dropping to his side as he watched you. “Good. I’m glad,” he said quietly. He took a step back, giving you some space as he gestured to the dresser by the wall. “There should be some extra blankets in there if you get cold, and if you need anything else…” He hesitated, meeting your eyes. “Just let me know. I’ll be right down the hall. Or, actually,” he added, seeming to correct himself, “I’ll probably be downstairs on the couch, but I’ll leave the door open. You know, just in case.”

What he didn’t say was that he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him. After seeing your outburst, and watching you throw up, he couldn’t bring himself to fully leave your side. He’d stay close enough to hear the slightest sound from your room, ready to be there if you needed him. The open door was his quiet reassurance: he wanted to be close enough to protect you, to do anything possible if the night took a turn.

You nodded, a quiet understanding passing between you. Despite everything, despite the tension and confusion that had brought you here, there was an undeniable comfort in his presence tonight.

Rafe lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching as you settled onto the edge of the bed, hands twisting nervously in your lap. You were still reeling from everything, still shaky, but the exhaustion was starting to settle in, weighing your limbs down. He looked at you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes, before he gave you a small nod and turned to go.

But just as he was about to close the door behind him, he paused. “Oh, wait. Here.” He pulled open a drawer in a nearby cabinet and took out a plain, oversized T-shirt, holding it out to you. “Thought you might want something more comfortable to sleep in.”

The kindness of the gesture caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at the shirt in his hands, your heart unexpectedly warm.

“Thank you, Rafe,” you murmured, taking the shirt from him. The fabric was soft between your fingers, worn in a way that felt comforting.

He gave a soft, almost shy smile. “Anytime. Get some rest, alright?”

You nodded, watching as he closed the door halfway, leaving it just slightly ajar, a sliver of light from the hallway casting a gentle glow across the room.

Once alone, you changed into the shirt, the fabric falling around you in a way that was oddly comforting, like being wrapped in a part of him. You slid under the blankets, pulling them up to your chin, and tried to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing. But even with the warmth of the bed and the security of the walls around you, sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, your mind replayed the events of the night.

Minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last. You tossed and turned, shifting under the blankets as you tried to settle, but your mind wouldn’t quiet, the unease creeping back in. Finally, with a sigh, you sat up, clutching the edge of the blanket as you tried to weigh your options.

You could hear the faint murmur of the TV downstairs, the soft hum of sound carrying through the quiet penthouse. Something about it felt reassuring, like a reminder that you weren’t alone here, even if everything in your mind felt isolated and dark.

Almost on autopilot, you slipped out of bed and padded toward the door, pulling it open quietly as you stepped into the hallway. Your feet moved almost without thinking, carrying you toward the staircase and down into the living room, where Rafe lay sprawled on the couch, his gaze fixed on the TV. He looked comfortable, one arm draped over his head, his eyes half-closed, the flickering light from the screen casting shadows across his face.

As you approached, he noticed you, his expression shifting from surprise to a warm smile. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, sitting up a little, his tone gentle.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stopped just a few feet away. “I… I just couldn’t quiet my mind.” You hesitated, glancing at the empty space beside him on the couch. “Would you mind if I… joined you?”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he patted the cushion next to him. “Of course. Here, take a seat.”

You eased down beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence as he settled back, his arm stretching out along the back of the couch. For a while, you just sat there in silence, the quiet hum of the TV filling the space between you.

After a moment, you took a steadying breath, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I’m sorry… about earlier. About… the way I reacted.” Your voice trembled slightly, and you kept your gaze fixed on your hands, avoiding his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, his tone firm but gentle. “You don’t need to apologize, Y/N. Not for that.”

You managed a weak smile, feeling a twinge of relief at his understanding. “It’s just… sometimes I feel like everyone’s always watching me. Watching what I eat, what I do, how I look.” The confession felt raw, vulnerable, but sitting here with him in the dim light, it felt almost safe.

Rafe’s gaze was steady, attentive, as he listened to you, his hand resting on the back of the couch just inches from your shoulder. “I get it,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what you do, someone’s waiting for you to slip up.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the understanding in his eyes. “I… I guess. I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Rafe’s expression turned thoughtful, almost pained, as he shifted, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I know that feeling more than I’d like to admit. It’s like… I’m always trying to be someone for my family, or at least… the son my dad wanted. And after my mom died…” He hesitated, his voice catching slightly, and he looked away as if he was afraid to let you see the rawness in his eyes. “I guess I felt like I had to fill a space I didn’t even know how to reach.”

Your heart twisted, a soft ache blooming as you watched him open up. You saw him differently in that moment, the weight of expectations he carried, the vulnerability he kept hidden behind the confident mask he showed the world. Slowly, you reached over, placing your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers. “I’m so sorry, Rafe. I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice gentle. “It’s not something I talk about much. But… I guess it feels different with you.” His thumb brushed against your hand, the light touch sending a warmth through you that you couldn’t ignore. There was something in his eyes, something unspoken, a tenderness you hadn’t seen before, and it made your heart beat just a little faster.

The warmth in his voice, the sincerity, made your chest tighten in a way you hadn’t expected.

You managed a small smile, feeling a strange warmth settle over you. “Thank you, Rafe… for tonight. Really.”

He reached over, gently placing a hand over yours, his touch reassuring, grounding. “Anytime.” His voice was low, sincere, and the intensity in his eyes made your heart race, a warmth spreading through your chest that you couldn’t quite ignore. “I know this started out as a… as a deal, but I’d be more than happy to talk to your family, if that would help.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt a softness in your chest that you hadn’t felt in so long. No one had ever made an effort like this for you. You squeezed his hand gently, meeting his gaze with a warmth that mirrored his own. “Thank you, Rafe.”

For a long moment, you just looked at each other, the quiet intimacy of the night wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His thumb traced slow, comforting circles over your hand, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill through you that you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know when it had happened, but something had shifted between you. 

As the quiet settled around you, the intensity of the moment began to ease, replaced by a warmth that made you feel unexpectedly at peace. Rafe still had his hand over yours, his thumb brushing soft, idle circles across your knuckles, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he looked at you.

“What?” you asked, noticing the spark of amusement in his eyes.

He shrugged, leaning back a little, though his hand didn’t leave yours. “I don’t know… you just have this look right now. It’s kind of cute.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, right. After everything tonight, ‘cute’ is the last thing I’d call myself.”

Rafe’s smile softened, and his eyes held a kind of warmth that made your chest flutter. “No, seriously,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “You’re always beautiful, but right now… it’s like you’re letting go of something. And that’s what’s cute. You’ve got this calm about you, like you’re finally breathing easy.”

You blushed at his words, warmth spreading across your face. “I… I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Say nothing,” he replied softly, his thumb still tracing small circles over your skin. “Just let me say something. I’ve been a mess lately… and I know I’ve been distant.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away. “I owe you an explanation. About ghosting. The last two weeks… I know I hurt you.”

Then, just as you were about to look away, unsure of where this was going, Rafe continued; “I’m sorry for disappearing on you. I should’ve talked to you, explained. But I didn’t know how. I still don’t really know how…” He trailed off, his voice faltering for the first time since you’d sat down. “I didn’t want to mess things up, and I thought that if I kept my distance, it’d be easier.”

The honesty in his words made something ache in your chest, but it wasn’t just frustration anymore. There was understanding there too, a quiet sympathy for the walls he had built around himself, the things he wasn’t willing to confront until now.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. “Why pull away?”

Rafe’s lips twisted into a rueful smile. “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know why I do half the shit I do sometimes.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t want you to think I was using you. I didn’t want you to think this was just about the deal. Because it isn’t,” his gaze meeting yours, and the vulnerability in his eyes hit you like a wave. “Something happened,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “With my family.”

You frowned, trying to make sense of what he meant. “What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath, like the words were difficult to get out. “It’s about my dad—but it’s… more than that.” His fingers traced the edge of the couch, his eyes avoiding yours as he searched for the right words. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you to think I was a mess.” He paused, then let out a humorless laugh, almost bitter. “But I am.”

Your heart sank as you watched him, the walls he had built around himself starting to crumble in front of you. Rafe’s eyes were distant now, focused on something you couldn’t see.

“My dad called me two weeks ago,” he continued, his voice tight. “He’s always… well, he's always trying to control everything. He told me I had to come to this meeting with him—something about my career and how I was handling things, how I’m not living up to the expectations he set.” He shook his head, a frustrated sigh escaping him. “But that wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t just him. It was my stepmom, too. They’ve been pushing for me to change, to be more like my sister. She’s got this perfect life, the one my dad’s always wanted for me. And I don’t know how to explain it, but that day, I just… I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t keep pretending I was someone I’m not. So I shut off my phone. I just…” His voice trailed off as his hand dropped into his lap, the frustration still evident in the tension in his shoulders.

You listened in silence, the weight of his words sinking in. You had always seen Rafe as someone in control—confident, cocky, never afraid to face any challenge. But now, sitting here beside him, you saw a side of him you hadn’t expected. A side that was raw, real, and 2human.

“I couldn’t talk to you because I didn’t know how to handle it,” Rafe admitted, his voice softer now, more vulnerable. “I saw your texts. All of them. I just… I didn’t know what to say. I thought if I ignored it, it would be easier. But it wasn’t. And I’m sorry. I hurt you, and I should’ve been better. I should’ve communicated. I don’t expect you to just forgive me right away, but…” He paused, taking a deep breath.

Your chest tightened as you processed everything he was saying. It wasn’t just about the deal anymore, and it never had been. It was about everything he had kept buried deep inside of him—the weight of his family’s expectations, the pressure of trying to live up to something he couldn’t even define.

“I… I don’t know what to say either,” you whispered, your voice shaking a little. “You’ve hurt me, Rafe. You disappeared for two weeks without a word, and I didn’t know why. And it wasn’t just the silence—it was the feeling that I wasn’t even worth telling the truth to.”

Rafe’s expression softened, and he looked like he might say something, but you raised your hand to stop him, needing him to understand before he tried to apologize again.

“But I get it now,” you continued, voice a little stronger. “I get that it wasn’t about me. It wasn’t because of something I did. And maybe that helps, a little. But I can’t just pretend it didn’t hurt, Rafe. I’m not that strong.”

His eyes flickered with regret, and he nodded slowly. “I know. And I’m sorry. I really am.” He was still so vulnerable, still unsure of what the next step was, but something in his eyes—something raw and genuine—made you believe him.

The room fell into silence again, but this time it wasn’t the same heavy silence. There was understanding, there was pain—but there was also the unspoken possibility of moving forward. You weren’t sure where it was going, or what would happen after this, but for the first time in two weeks, you didn’t feel completely lost. You could see the cracks in him, and maybe, just maybe, you could help him heal them.

Rafe was leaning close, his hand resting over yours, fingers brushing softly. His thumb traced lazy circles across your skin, it felt like a reassurance. His gaze flickered down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and you could see the hesitation there, the uncertainty, but also the longing.

You could feel the way your body responded to him. The way your chest tightened, how your breath hitched every time his thumb brushed your hand. And then, as if something finally clicked between you both, you leaned in, closing the distance just a little bit more.

Rafe’s eyes flickered down to your lips again, and this time, there was no hesitation. His hand, still covering yours, shifted until his fingers curled gently around your wrist, guiding you closer. His breath brushed against your skin as he closed the space between you, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

You both paused, breath mingling, sharing the same fragile moment. His eyes searched yours one last time, like he was trying to read you, to make sure you were truly there with him, in this moment. And then, without another word, his lips brushed against yours—a gentle touch, hesitant, as if he was testing the waters.

But when your lips met, it was like everything inside of you unraveled. His kiss was soft but insistent, like he couldn’t hold back any longer, like this was the one thing that could break through all the tension, all the confusion, all the weight of the unspoken things. And you kissed him back without thinking, without second-guessing, as if everything inside of you had been waiting for this exact moment.

His free hand lifted, gently cupping your face, his thumb grazing over your cheek as his lips pressed harder against yours. The kiss deepened, a slow, aching rhythm that made your heart race. You could feel the emotions, the vulnerability, the rawness in every touch, in every second of the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, it was only just enough to breathe. You rested your forehead against his, both of you trying to catch your breath. His eyes were closed for a moment, as if savoring the closeness, before he opened them, meeting your gaze once again.

“So…” You began, your voice light but purposeful. “About this whole marriage thing.”

Rafe blinked, pulling back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “What about it?” 

You smirked, feeling the words roll off your tongue before you could stop them. “I don’t know, I just keep thinking about how weird it’s going to be to call you ‘husband.’”

The effect was immediate. Rafe froze for a second, his gaze locking on yours, wide-eyed, as though the word had sent a shock through him. You noticed the way his breath caught, the way his hand tensed around yours, and the flush creeping up his neck.

“Wait, what?” He stammered, trying to mask the surprise but failing. “You’re—seriously, you just said ‘husband’ like it was nothing?”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Well, it is a word I’m going to have to get used to, right? You’re going to be stuck with it, whether you like it or not.”

Rafe let out a low, almost nervous laugh, but you could see the way his mind was clearly spiraling as he tried to regain his composure. “Yeah, well… I mean, it’s just—uh, it’s a little weird to hear it come out of your mouth. You know? ‘Husband.’”

You couldn’t help but smirk at the way he was tripping over his words, clearly caught off guard by the casualness with which you said it. 

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll feel more natural once we’re actually married.” You gave him a wink, knowing exactly how to throw him off balance.

But Rafe was looking at you differently now, his eyes softening as they flickered over your face. You could see the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, his gaze lingering on your lips before he snapped his focus back to your eyes, clearly struggling to rein in whatever thoughts were spinning in his mind.

And then, as though he couldn’t contain it anymore, he leaned in suddenly, pressing his lips to the side of your face, just below your ear. It was a quick, almost frantic kiss, like he couldn’t resist any longer. The next moment, his lips were on your temple, then your cheek, the soft, warm press of his mouth against your skin like an involuntary response.

You blinked, taken aback by the suddenness of it all, but a small, surprised laugh escaped you. “What was that about?” you asked, breathless from the unexpected affection.

Rafe pulled back, his expression almost shy now, like he hadn’t meant to do it but couldn’t stop himself. “I don’t know,” he muttered under his breath, not quite looking you in the eye. “You just… you said it again. And you looked so fucking pretty right now. I couldn’t hold myself back.” He was talking to himself more than to you, the words tumbling out as his hand found its way back to yours, his fingers curling around yours as though grounding himself.

You were silent for a moment, studying him with a mixture of amusement and something else—a warmth that spread in your chest, a recognition that maybe, just maybe, this whole marriage thing wasn’t so bad after all. His reaction was unexpected, but it made something stir in you. You felt a little giddy at the way he was reacting, the way he was unraveling in front of you. There was something so raw about it.

“Rafe,” you said softly, your voice teasing but with a deeper hint of affection now. “You’re really freaking out over the word ‘husband’?”

He gave you a sheepish look, a little embarrassed but still leaning in a little closer, as if he couldn’t help himself. “It just—did something to me, okay?” His voice dropped to a low whisper, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. “I don’t know. The way you said it… made me feel something I wasn’t ready for.”

Before you could respond, he kissed your cheek again, this time slow, deliberate, as if he was trying to savor the moment. He pulled back just enough to glance at you, his lips brushing against your skin as he murmured, “I swear, you’re killing me with that word.”

And then, almost without thinking, you whispered the word again, dragging it out just a little for dramatic effect. “Husband…”

His eyes closed at the sound, his breath catching in his throat. His reaction was instant. His hands cupped your face just as you had done, and suddenly, his lips were everywhere—across your forehead, along your jawline, down the side of your neck—each kiss soft, urgent, as if he couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t frantic, but it was definitely filled with a need that he wasn’t trying to hide anymore.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly between his kisses, your heart racing from the sweetness of it all. “Rafe,” you murmured through your laughter, “are you okay?”

He pulled back for a second, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a breathless chuckle. “Am I okay?” His voice was soft, almost incredulous. “I’m better than okay. I’m…” He stopped, looking at you with a look that was so intense, so unguarded, you felt it in your bones. “I’m kind of losing my mind over you right now, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the warmth in his eyes catching you off guard. The words hung in the air, a confession he hadn’t meant to make but couldn’t help. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your own composure. This wasn’t the time for heavy emotions, not when things were still so uncertain between you both.

But as you looked at him, his lips still slightly parted, his breath mingling with yours, you couldn’t deny the pull that had formed between you, something that felt more real than the arrangement you had set out to create.

“So… about that husband thing,” you said, a teasing smile curving your lips. “You sure you can handle it?”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you a little closer, his hands now resting on your waist as his eyes softened. “I’m starting to think I might be in trouble.”

“Trouble?” You raised an eyebrow, playfully narrowing your eyes. “Only if you keep kissing me like that. Otherwise, you’re fine.”

He smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Good to know,” he whispered, “I’ll make sure to keep kissing you then.”

chapter nine

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1974 - ...but it was never meant to be

chapter summary: You and Logan have been living in the Canadian Rockies for almost 6 months, enjoying the peace and solitude that comes with it.

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is just fluff, at least until the end... but we're finally hitting the movies! and sorry for it being a bit shorter than the others, there are some ideas i'm saving for a future chapter :))

(p.s. the first sentence about the hotel in nyc is going to be very important to remember for a future chapter...)

warnings/tags: fluff, origins!logan, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, (beginning of) x-men origins, character death

series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7

Leaving was easy once you got past the one incident. You and Logan had stopped that day at a hotel a bit out of New York City only to be found by your father’s men.

But what happened was almost like magic. Logan, your Logan, took them all out with claws. At first you were bewildered, shocked at what you just saw. But now, after 6 months of living in the Canadian Rockies, it was normal.

Normal.

Mornings would start with the soft light streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over your shared space as Logan brewed coffee and you stretched, enjoying the easy comfort of it all.

Logan had found work quickly enough as a lumberjack, something that kept him outside and busy, and it suited him. Meanwhile, you’d stumbled upon a small animal shelter in the nearby town. You’d started going once or twice a week, helping out with the dogs and occasionally picking up shifts to keep yourself busy and connected to some semblance of normal life.

The routines you fell into together were quiet, steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt grounded. Though you missed New York sometimes, especially the volunteer work at the retirement home, the silence of the woods and the small town was a peaceful change.

Not only were things peaceful, but Logan had started opening up to you in the quiet of your cabin, usually in the early morning or after one of his nightmares. It started with little things—details about his mutation, his healing ability. Then, as the days blurred into weeks, he told you about his age and the wars he’d fought in, his voice quiet, words weighed down with old memories.

One chilly morning, you found him staring out the window, his gaze distant as he sipped his coffee. You moved up beside him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you alright?”

He looked down at you, a flicker of a smile breaking through the shadows. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but calm.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offered, watching his face closely.

Logan considered this for a moment, then took a long breath. “I think… just realizin’ how long it’s been since I had somethin’ like this,” he finally admitted, a glint of honesty in his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a road, darlin’.”

You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm. “I don’t need to know everything, Logan. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He gave a short nod, letting his hand rest over yours, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wrapped around yours, holding them a moment longer than necessary.

---

Life in the cabin wasn’t extravagant, but there was a certain charm in the simplicity. Nights spent by the fire, mornings with the scent of pine and fresh coffee, and the comforting weight of Logan’s arm draped over you as you both drifted into sleep. But there were also the little bumps—like the time you tried making him dinner.

It had been a stew recipe, something you thought would be foolproof. You’d stirred, added spices, tasted… but when you served it, the look on Logan’s face was priceless.

He took a spoonful, eyebrows lifting as he held back a chuckle. “This a new recipe?”

“Okay, I get it—it’s not great,” you sighed, laughing a little as you took a bite yourself. “Alright, yeah, maybe it’s terrible.”

Logan chuckled, setting his spoon down. “It’s not so bad. I mean… it’s got heart.”

You nudged him, rolling your eyes. “Heart doesn’t mean it’s edible, Logan.”

“Maybe not,” he smirked, “but I’ll still eat it.” He winked, lifting another spoonful as he pretended to struggle through the bowl, making you burst into laughter.

---

Late one night, Logan awoke from one of his nightmares. You knew, even before he’d fully come to, just by the way he stiffened beside you. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, and you reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whispered.

He looked down at you, the muscles in his jaw tight. But after a moment, he nodded. “It was a long time ago. Just old ghosts.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “There’s been a lot of violence. Stuff… I don’t ever want you to have to see.”

“I know you’ve seen a lot,” you murmured, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “But you don’t have to go through it alone, Logan. Not anymore.”

Logan’s hand covered yours, and he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but searching. “You’ve been more than I deserve, Y/N,” he said quietly.

Your heart twisted, and you reached up to cup his face. “Logan, I don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. All that matters is who you are now.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky man,” he whispered, his voice low.

He held you close that night, your presence calming the echoes of a past that seemed finally willing to rest, if only for a while.

---

One day you were trying to make something simple, roast chicken and potatoes before Logan got back from work. You diligently checked the oven, making sure that nothing was burning, until Logan came home, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood up from the oven.

Logan’s hands settled warmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked over at the oven. The familiar, steady weight of him grounded you, even as you felt your heart give a quick little skip at the simple, domestic gesture.

“Smells good in here,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he took in the scent of roasting chicken and herbs. “Didn’t know you were this fancy in the kitchen.”

You let out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Fancy might be a stretch. I’m just hoping it doesn’t come out dry.”

His arms tightened just a bit, pulling you closer. “Even if it did, I’d still eat it,” he said, a hint of that playful glint in his voice. “Means a lot, havin’ you here. Feels like… home.”

A warmth rose in your chest, one that went beyond the physical, and you leaned back into him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I could get used to this too.” You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Long days, quiet dinners, just us.”

“Us,” he echoed, his voice softer, thoughtful. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something unspoken yet weighty. His thumb brushed small, slow circles along your hip, as if anchoring himself in the moment, and he gave you a slight smile that didn’t quite mask the intensity behind it.

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you felt a shift in his posture, almost like he wanted to say something but was holding back. He looked at you in that way he sometimes did—like he was seeing more than just you standing there in your small, cozy kitchen. Maybe he was seeing all the days stretching ahead, those simple moments you’d have together, and the weight of that left him speechless.

“Logan?” you asked, brushing a hand along his arm.

He blinked, then smiled, the intensity in his gaze easing back into something gentler. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, with just the faint hum of the oven and the quiet, steady beat of Logan’s heart against your back. In the quiet of your little life together, things felt simple, natural. Here, there were no expectations, no obligations—just the two of you, building something real out of those little, ordinary moments.

But later that night, as you drifted off beside him, Logan stayed awake, lost in thought. His hand brushed over the small velvet box in his drawer, the ring that had waited all this time, the one that had been meant for you once before. He ran his thumb along the edge, thinking about when the right time might be—or if he’d even have the chance. For now, though, he’d savor each day, each quiet moment, holding on as tightly as he could.

---

You lay nestled between Logan’s legs on the couch, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you read, while he watched TV, idly sipping his beer. His free hand drifted up and down your arm absentmindedly, and you could feel the faint rumble of his quiet breaths beneath you. There was a calm in the cabin tonight—a peace you’d found only since being with him.

“What’s got you so hooked?” he asked, glancing down at your book with a smirk. “Looks like you’re deep in it.”

You tilted the book so he could see the cover, Jaws. “It’s a book about a shark.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “a shark, huh?”

You turned back to the book, keeping a small smile hidden. “Kind of. It’s a little deeper than just a shark, though.”

“Deeper than a shark, huh?” Logan smirked, shifting slightly to glance down at you, looking mildly amused. “Didn’t think a fish story could be that interesting.”

“It’s not just any fish, Logan,” you said, letting your hand rest on his as you settled back into his warmth. “This shark’s on a whole other level—a menace, basically unstoppable. And there’s all this tension between the people in the town, like who’s responsible, what to do, whether they even believe it’s happening.”

He gave a soft grunt of understanding, taking a sip of his beer. “Guess I can see why you’re hooked. Townsfolk fighting over a monster they can’t get rid of… kinda familiar.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, a glint of curiosity in your eyes. “You got experience with monsters, Logan?”

“More than you’d believe, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes holding that far-off look he sometimes got when his mind slipped somewhere else, somewhere harder. But his grip on you stayed gentle, grounding him here.

There was a moment’s quiet, then he smirked, leaning down closer. “But I could take out your shark, no question.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, closing the book and giving him a look of mock skepticism. “A great white shark, Logan. One that can bite clean through a boat. I think even you’d have some trouble with that one.”

He snorted, giving you an exaggerated look of disbelief. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’d have it done in five minutes.”

You laughed, poking his chest. “I’d like to see that. You, in the water, with a shark. You’d probably scare it off.”

“Probably,” he chuckled, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something genuine. “But I’d do it for you.”

His words caught you off guard, softening the teasing banter into something warmer, something real. You looked up at him, and the light in his eyes held a familiar steadiness, a promise you hadn’t expected. You felt a smile creeping up, one that made your heart beat a little faster.

“That’s sweet of you, Logan. But don’t go risking your life over a shark.”

He shrugged, giving a small grin. “Risking my life’s kinda my thing.”

With a smirk, you shifted to put your arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to fight any sharks. I just need you here, safe, preferably not trying to tackle any more sea monsters.”

Logan’s hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Don’t worry, darlin’. For you, I’d stay outta trouble… or at least, try.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, a promise in every kiss, every touch.

When you pulled back, he let out a small sigh, looking at you with a softness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“Now,” you murmured, your voice quiet as you tried to keep the mood light, “how about you let me finish reading this book before you start making any plans to fight sharks?”

“Fine,” he chuckled, leaning back into the couch, his arms still loosely around you. “But I’m just sayin’, the offer stands.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting back to lean against his chest, your book in hand. But even as you returned to the words on the page, the comfortable silence between you filled every corner of the cabin, your heart warmed by the man beside you.

---

When Logan came home and removed his jacket, the sound of music drifted to his ears, mingling with the low hum of a vacuum. The cabin was warm, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside, the smell of pine and faint wood smoke greeting him like an old friend. The soft glow of late afternoon sun streaked through the windows, and as he stepped further in, he caught sight of you.

You were standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on your frame, the hem brushing just below the tops of your thighs. The vacuum roared in your hand as you cleaned, entirely oblivious to his arrival.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you. Something about this—a simple domestic scene—made his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that he couldn’t quite name.

“Y’know, you’re not supposed to wear clothes that fit me better than they fit you,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the vacuum’s roar.

Startled, you turned it off with a quick flick of the switch and looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. “Logan! You scared me,” you said.

“Didn’t mean to,” he replied, his tone warm as he pushed off the frame and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, and as he got closer, his eyes drank you in, lingering on the way the flannel gaped slightly at the neck, exposing the soft line of your collarbone. “Got a habit of sneakin’ up, I guess.”

You laughed softly, setting the vacuum aside. “If you were a little less loud, I’d think you were some kind of predator.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading as he reached for you, hands settling at your waist and pulling you close, “if I wanted to catch you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled between you, his voice a low rumble that always managed to make your knees feel just a little weaker. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath your palms. “Good thing I’m not running then,” you murmured, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours. “Good thing,” he echoed, before his lips claimed yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, pulling you tighter against him. The flannel you wore rose slightly under his touch, and you gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers found bare skin.

“Logan,” you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft plea.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his mouth trailing down your jawline, his scruff brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Think you should let me finish cleaning,” you teased, though your hands had already slid up to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the dark strands at the base of his skull.

He huffed a laugh, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your throat. “Nah, think I got a better idea.”

With a swift move, he bent and swept you off your feet, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. You let out a startled laugh, clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch. “Logan, the vacuum—”

“Vacuum’ll be there later,” he cut in, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. “Right now, you’re the only thing I’m worried about.”

He set you down gently on the cushions, his large frame hovering over you as he knelt on the floor, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the flannel higher. The intensity in his gaze sent a flush rising to your cheeks, your heart pounding in anticipation.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, his voice thick, raw. His hands paused, fingers curling just under the hem of the shirt. “Mind if I show you how much?”

You nodded, breathless, and he smiled—a rare, almost boyish expression that quickly dissolved into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for doubt about where his mind was. His hands roamed freely now, skimming along the curve of your thighs, pushing the flannel higher and higher, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the room.

“Goddamn,” Logan muttered against your lips, his voice thick, raw. His hands splayed across your thighs, gripping them as though grounding himself, his thumbs brushing along the tender skin there. “You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.”

A shiver ran through you, anticipation building as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed caresses. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved further down, sinking to his knees before you, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart.

"Logan..." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The intensity there made your breath hitch. “Let me take care of you.”

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, taking his time, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing. Your heart pounded as you felt his warm breath against your skin, so close to where you wanted him, needed him.

When his lips finally brushed against you, his tongue darting out to taste, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that spilled from your lips. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you with an expertise that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching his hair, your hips arching into him. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you trembling, your thighs pressing around his head.

Logan growled against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound of it—rough, primal—only spurred you on. He was relentless, his lips and tongue working you with a fervor that left no doubt about how much he enjoyed this, enjoyed you.

“Logan, I—” Your words dissolved into a whimper, your body tensing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His name was a mantra on your lips, each syllable punctuated by gasps and moans as he pulled you apart and put you back together with every stroke of his tongue.

When you finally shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave, he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, his hands holding you steady as you trembled, as your body arched and writhed against him. Only when you were completely spent, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough, gravelly, as he rose to his feet, his hands still resting on your thighs. “I could do that all night.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the couch, your body still tingling, your cheeks flushed. “You’re insatiable.”

“Says the woman who was just beggin’ me for more,” Logan teased, his voice a low rumble as his lips brushed against yours. His kiss was slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of him mixed with the remnants of your own release sent a thrill racing through you, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, keeping him close.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You sure you’re not tryin’ to kill me, darlin’? Feels like every time I get my hands on you, I lose a few more pieces of myself.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your fingers idly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”

Logan huffed a laugh, the sound deep and almost self-deprecating. His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, his gaze locked on yours. “For you, maybe not. For me? I’m startin’ to think I wouldn’t mind it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, a quiet confession that made your chest tighten. You reached up, brushing your thumb along the rough edge of his jaw. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You’re too important, Logan. To me.”

His expression softened, the hard edges of his usual demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”

“Maybe you should show me,” you said, your voice carrying a teasing lilt, though the heat in your eyes betrayed how serious you were.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous grin. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”

He let out a low growl, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “You’re damn right I don’t.”

In one fluid motion, Logan had you lifted, his hands firm as he repositioned you to straddle his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you settled against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, the solidness of him grounding you in a way that felt almost necessary.

“See? Told ya I had better plans than cleanin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

You tilted your head, giving him more access, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I think I’m starting to agree.”

Logan’s hands roamed over you, calloused fingers exploring the soft curves of your body with reverence. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements. It was deliberate, almost tender, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

His lips trailed a path along your neck, his scruff scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he admitted, his voice low, almost like a growl.

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

Logan’s hands gripped the hem of the flannel you wore, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he slowly lifted it. He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in the sight of your bare skin bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but the look in his eyes kept any hint of self-consciousness at bay. “You’re staring,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“Can’t help it,” he said simply, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of lookin’ at you.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, your hands threading through his hair as you pressed yourself against him.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he shifted beneath you, the hard press of him against your core drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He swallowed the sound with a groan, his grip tightening as he began to rock you against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”

His hands moved to your waist, guiding your movements as he kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. Each roll of your hips against him was maddeningly slow, the steady build of tension making you ache for more.

“Logan, please,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you tried to quicken the pace.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “Patience, Y/N. I’m not in a rush.”

You huffed in frustration, though the warmth in his gaze softened the sharp edges of your need. “You’re cruel,” you muttered, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“Cruel, huh?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he shifted beneath you. “Pretty sure you’ll be thankin’ me when I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound dissolving into a soft moan as he bucked his hips against you, the friction sending another wave of heat coursing through you.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice a mix of exasperation and longing.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yeah, darlin’? What do you need?”

“You,” you said simply, the single word carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you.

Logan’s expression softened, his teasing demeanor shifting as something deeper flickered in his gaze. “You’ve got me,” he said, his voice steady, his hands firm on your hips as though anchoring you to him.

Your heart stuttered at his words, the raw sincerity of them making your chest feel impossibly tight. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his as your fingers slid down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under your touch. “I’m glad,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss unhurried and deliberate, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. The heat of him seeped into your skin, grounding you as you moved against him. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that made you ache for more.

“Darlin’,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and strained, “you’re makin’ it real hard to take this slow.”

“Maybe I don’t want slow,” you countered, your tone teasing, though the way your breath hitched betrayed your own urgency.

Logan chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you as his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. “Trust me, you do,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your thighs tighten around him. “I want to feel every second of this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in his hair as he took his time exploring every inch of you. Logan’s hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he shifted on the couch, settling back further into the cushions.

The new angle pressed you more firmly against him, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed with another kiss. “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice trembling as you shifted your hips, testing the pressure between you.

Logan growled low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as his hands slid up your back. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his words heavy with reverence.

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he was looking at you, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. “Off,” you said simply, your voice breathless but firm.

He smirked, obliging without hesitation as he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Your eyes raked over him, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the scars that marred his otherwise flawless skin.

“Like what you see?” he teased, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“Always,” you replied, your hands trailing over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of old wounds. “You’re beautiful, Logan.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding back to your waist. “Don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”

“Well, they should have,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you as you moved against him, the steady grind of your bodies making your head spin. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, though the words were laced with affection.

“Not likely,” you quipped, a soft laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted again, one hand moving to undo the button of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you realized what was coming next, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze searching yours.

“Logan,” you said, your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

He nodded once, his hands steady as he slid his jeans down just enough, freeing himself. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as you took him in, your cheeks flushing at the sight.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he guided you closer, his hands firm on your hips.

You moved slowly, adjusting yourself over him, the heat of him against you making you tremble. Logan’s hands were steady, his thumbs brushing soothing circles on your skin as he guided you.

When you finally sank down onto him, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and fullness that made you moan softly. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You feel... Jesus, darlin’, you’re perfect.”

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he felt, the way he filled you completely. You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you began to move.

Logan’s hands guided your movements, his grip firm but not controlling as he let you set the pace. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming as you rocked against him, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

The steady rhythm built slowly, the intensity growing with each roll of your hips. Logan’s hands roamed over you, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, grounding you in the moment.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upward, matching your movements.

The new angle sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you clung to him. “Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Right here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the strain in it.

The intensity between you grew, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something more urgent as your bodies moved together. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch pushed you closer to the edge, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.

When you finally shattered, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Logan held you through it, his hands steady on your hips as your body trembled, his name falling from your lips in a breathless mantra.

He followed moments later, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening as he found his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other, the world outside forgotten.

“You okay?” Logan asked finally, his voice soft, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice muffled against his neck.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back to look at him.

Logan’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup your face. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your tone steady despite the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right I am,” he said, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish grin.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, the rest of the world fading away. For now, there was only this—only him.

---

You turned off the water that was filling the bathtub and dipped your hand in to test the temperature of the water. The water was just right—hot, with steam gently rolling off the surface. You stood, wiping your hands on the towel, just as you heard the front door creak open and close with a soft click. Logan’s footsteps padded quietly through the cabin, but you could still feel that familiar presence, that comforting weight of him even when he wasn’t yet in sight.

You barely had time to turn around before he appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of you standing by the tub. “Now this is a surprise,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Thought you’d like a soak after all that work you did today,” you replied, a little smile tugging at your mouth. You stepped aside, gesturing toward the water. “Go on, it’s ready.”

Logan’s gaze softened, though his smirk never quite faded. “So you’re spoilin’ me now, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Can’t have you overdoing it. You might be practically indestructible, but a hot bath never hurt anyone.”

He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. “Got a point there,” he admitted, tossing it onto the nearby chair. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over the familiar planes of his chest, scars crisscrossing his skin like a map of all the years he’d survived. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t mind—just kept undressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Logan stepped into the tub, easing himself down with a contented sigh as he settled into the water. He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the steam rose around him. For a moment, you simply watched him, a fond smile on your lips.

“Good?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “Better than good. You joinin’ me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “This one’s all yours. I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Before you could turn, Logan reached out, his wet hand catching yours. He looked up at you, his expression softer now. “Stay, darlin’. Least for a bit.”

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and you found yourself nodding, unable to refuse him. You sat down beside the tub, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of the water, and he let his hand rest in yours.

Logan kissed the top of your hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sure ya don’t wanna join me? Promise I don’t bite."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

He chuckled, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours, as if he was savoring this quiet moment between you. “Could use a little company, that’s all,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

“This is supposed to be a bath for you.” You replied, your own eyebrow quirked.

“I’d enjoy it more if you were in here with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at Logan, the corner of your mouth quirking into a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, maybe if you’re lucky.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the side of the tub. “Oh, come on. I’m always lucky when it comes to you.” His voice was a low murmur, pulling you in with that familiar, lazy charm he always seemed to have.

“Uh-huh, says the guy who tried to convince me he could take on a shark,” you shot back, crossing your arms, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re just full of bold ideas, huh?”

He chuckled, giving a shrug. “I stand by that. But I’m talkin’ serious here.” His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your wrist in a way that sent a warmth through you. “No sharks, no messin’ around. Just you, right here.”

The sincerity caught you a little off guard. The tension settled into something deeper as you looked at him, his hand steady on yours, like he was holding onto more than just the moment.

“I guess… I could keep you company,” you said softly, the lightness of your earlier words giving way to something quieter. You slipped out of your shirt, feeling Logan’s gaze follow you, his eyes dark with a warmth that made you feel both nervous and excited.

Sliding into the water, you settled in close to him, leaning back as his arms naturally came around you. The water was hot, relaxing every part of you, but it was Logan’s touch, the gentle press of his fingers tracing over your arm, that made you feel completely at ease.

“See?” he murmured against your hair, his lips grazing the top of your head. “Told ya this was a good idea.”

You hummed, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. “You did. Guess I should listen to you more often.”

Logan’s hand slid along your shoulder, trailing down your arm with a steady, careful touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch. You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, followed by the soft press of his lips just below your ear. The tension of the day melted away, leaving you relaxed and content in his embrace.

For a few moments, you both just stayed there, the only sounds the quiet rustle of water and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Logan’s fingers traced small, lazy circles along your arm, his other hand holding you close against him, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“So,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “this isn’t so bad, right?”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice rumbling against your back. “Peace and quiet. Just the two of us.” His hand dipped below the water, wrapping around yours.

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thought you’d be the type to get bored out here, all this peace and quiet.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, though his thumb continued to brush over the back of your hand. “Can handle a bit of quiet if it means you’re here,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him, your faces close. “Guess that makes two of us.” You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, the weight of those unspoken words lingering between you both.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his gaze soft and intent. “You gonna kiss me, or do I gotta ask real nice?”

“Always so impatient,” you teased, but you leaned in, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every second. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, your forehead resting against his.

Logan looked at you, a small, crooked smile on his lips. “See? Worth the wait.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “You really know how to charm a girl, you know that?”

“Only got one girl I’m tryin’ to charm,” he replied, his voice rough but warm.

Your smile softened as you nestled back against him, letting the silence settle over you both once more. The warmth of the water, the feel of his arms around you—it felt like a small eternity in that moment, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.

---

Trying to turn the conversation away from what Logan told you, about Stryker coming to visit him about a ‘mission’, you started to talk about your day, with Logan’s head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“The stray was matted but Tina started calling him Wolf. Said the dog reminded her of another animal.”

Logan hummed, his eyes still closed, “lemme guess, she showed you a picture of the animal from her book.”

You giggled, “yeah, she did. Gotta admit that dog looked quite similar to the wolverine in her book.” You tilted your head downwards to look at him, “Reminded me of you. Grizzly, sometimes dirty.”

Logan opened one eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Grizzly, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” You grinned, your fingers drifting through his hair in slow strokes. “Not just the dirty part, by the way. Wolverines are pretty fierce, don’t let much stand in their way.”

He let out a low chuckle, closing his eye again, seeming to relax further under your touch. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, comin’ from you.” There was a slight pause, and his voice softened a bit. “Not everyone’s a fan of the grizzly type.”

You scoffed lightly, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “Well, good thing I am. You know, even wolverines have a soft side somewhere.”

Logan huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? Don’t think I’ve got much of that left, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, you definitely do.” You brushed a thumb gently along his temple. “Trust me. Like today—taking the time to help out with that old couple’s truck, even after a full day’s work.” You smiled down at him, admiration clear in your gaze. “I see it, Logan, even if you don’t.”

He tilted his head a bit, opening his eyes and looking up at you, his expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, a smirk breaking the moment. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but he kept his usual, laid-back tone. “Guess I’m lucky you put up with me, huh?”

“You know it.” You winked, letting your fingers trail down to his jawline, and you felt him relax a little more, like he could melt under your touch. “Plus, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“Not an easy job,” he muttered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leaned into your hand, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N.”

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making your heart beat just a little faster, and you couldn’t help but lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, he just looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something else—a depth you didn’t need him to explain.

You shifted slightly, a small smile still on your face. “Now, about that dog—think you could convince Tina to bring him around here?”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips again. “Bringing a stray mutt up here? You sure?”

“Why not? He’d be a good watch dog for you when I’m not around,” you said, with a wink.

He chuckled, a bit softer this time. “Guess I’ll think about it.” Then, his eyes crinkled with that familiar spark of humor. “But only if you promise not to call me Grizzly in front of anyone else.”

You laughed, leaning back against the couch, his head still in your lap. “Deal.”

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, and you just let yourself soak up the comfortable silence, the simplicity of Logan resting there, perfectly at ease. And as your hand drifted gently through his hair again, you couldn’t help but wonder if this—these quiet moments—might be what you’d both been needing all along.

---

You were driving down a narrow road, the trees thickening as you made your way toward town. The familiar hum of a cassette player filled the car, and you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm. It had been a good week—a small but sweet milestone with Logan, half a year together, and you’d even managed to keep things peaceful in that cabin of his. Tonight was supposed to be simple, a little surprise you’d planned: a tiramisu. Probably the only thing you could bake to perfection.

You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—

The sight in the distance made your stomach twist. A figure stood in the middle of the road, dressed in black, unmoving, watching you with an unsettling focus. You slowed the car, blinking to see if you were imagining things. But no—he was still there, large and unflinching in the middle of the narrow path.

As you approached, your heart hammered against your ribs. Something about him was familiar, but not in any way that felt safe or warm.

You pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a cautious stop. The man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face coming into view under the faint sunlight streaming through the trees. His eyes were cold, almost amused, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

It was him—Victor. The man Logan had mentioned a few times, enough to make you know he wasn’t someone you’d ever want to meet, much less find waiting for you like this.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep, mocking, and calm in a way that was anything but reassuring.

You tried to keep your face calm, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Just heading into town,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt. “Is there…something you need?”

He tilted his head, like he was sizing you up. “Logan ever mention me?”

A chill crawled up your spine, but you kept your expression guarded. “Maybe once or twice.”

Victor took another step forward, his gaze raking over you with a twisted curiosity, almost like he was toying with the idea of letting you go—but only almost. “See, I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with him,” he drawled, his tone venomous, “and here you are, just making it easy for me.”

You felt a pulse of dread, instinct telling you to turn the car around and get out of there, fast. But you knew better than to provoke him. “Logan’s not here,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He smirked, that same cold expression never leaving his face. “I’m aware,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward you. “You think he’d leave someone like you on your own if he thought you’d be safe?”

Your heart raced, a knot of fear tightening in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, to stall him, to get yourself out of this, but nothing came to mind. The realization was dawning, and from the look in Victor’s eyes, he knew it too. There would be no bargaining, no reasoning with him.

"Didn't think Logan would be the type to leave someone behind. Guess I was wrong," he said, sounding amused.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, refusing to give in to the fear swirling in your chest. "Logan’s not here," you repeated, your voice firm.

"Like I said, I know," Victor replied smoothly, taking another step. His eyes traveled over the car, then over you, a twisted curiosity behind them. "But I figure, maybe you can pass along a little message for me."

Every instinct told you to run, but the car blocked you in, and Victor was only feet away. "What do you want, Victor?"

He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting under the dim light. "Simple. Tell Logan I said 'hi'... if you get the chance."

The dread in your stomach crystallized as he lunged forward. You tried to move, to react, but he was too fast. His hand closed around your throat, lifting you out of the car as though you weighed nothing, and you fought, kicking, clawing, anything you could think of to get free.

"You know," Victor’s voice was disturbingly calm, "he’s been through a lot. But there’s always that soft spot, that weakness he can’t seem to shake."

Desperation flared within you, and you kicked harder, one foot making contact with his chest. It only made him laugh, and he tightened his grip, his face drawing close enough that you could see the cold cruelty in his eyes.

"You’re just like all the others," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Maybe a little more stubborn, but that’s hardly new."

Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision, your breath coming shorter and shorter. You knew there was no getting out of this—not with him, not with a monster like Victor Creed.

But Logan...

---

Logan walked through the vegetation right by where he and the other guys were cutting apart a tree. He stopped short once he saw the head of an animal laying on the yellow grass.

“What you doing, Logan?” One of the guys asked from behind.

Logan looked around before seeing large scratch marks on a tree trunk, lined with red. “Y/N.” He whispered, before running down the hill and through the forest.

Once he hit the clearing, he could see the truck on the side of the road. Logan reached the car, his hands gripping the window frame as he scanned the empty interior. “Y/N…?” His voice was rough, the crack of worry breaking through, echoing in the quiet forest.

His eyes darted down to the disturbed earth, faint scuff marks in the dirt telling him where you might’ve been dragged. His heart hammered as he followed the path into the trees, every step growing heavier with dread as he moved through the dense underbrush, the silence unsettling.

And then, in a small clearing, he found you.

You were lying there, so still, your skin pale against the forest floor, hair fanned around you like a dark halo. Blood flecked the ground, stark and terrible against the greenery. He staggered, dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, one of them clenching briefly before he let himself touch you.

“Y/N…” he whispered, voice breaking as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing a smear of dirt from your cheek. Your eyes were closed, lips parted just slightly, as if you’d been trying to say his name. For a split second, he could almost pretend you were just asleep, and that any second you’d open your eyes, make some joke, or reach up to tug him down to you.

But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.

Logan’s breath caught, and he pulled you close, his arms cradling you as if he could shield you from the reality already etched into his heart. The rage simmered below his skin, burning through the grief, fueling the ache with something primal. He rocked back, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his face buried in your hair, trying to hold on to any last trace of you, the faint scent of you still lingering, even as everything around him felt like it was falling apart.

“You… You were supposed to be safe here,” he whispered against your hair, voice hoarse. “I shoulda been here. I shoulda…” His words trailed off into silence as he sat there, unmoving, clutching you in his arms as if the weight of his grief alone could pull you back.

He looked down at you, his thumb grazing over your cheek one last time, as though trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. “Y/N… I swear… I’ll make him pay.” The last words came out like a promise, a vow laced with the kind of anger only a man like Logan could bear. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before letting out a long, broken breath.

When he finally tore his gaze away from you, his eyes turned cold, a new resolve searing through him.

This wasn’t over.

umm... sorry??

i tried to make a different version of how logan got the name 'wolverine' to try and fit reader's personality, since she probably doesn't know about the myth kayla did.

next chapter will be x2!

[fishfooddude]

Ooo if it’s okay (totally okay if not!) can I please request an angst to fluff Carmy x fem!reader where Y/n and Carmy had been engaged when he was in culinary school in New York, maybe she was going to a University then for elementary education or something, but they had broken up after Carmy got the news about his brother and went back to Chicago and they lost touch. Fast forward and Y/n is visiting Chicago and happens to walk into The Bear to eat (she didn’t know it was Carmy’s restaurant because the last time they talked, “The Bear” was “The Beef”) holding a little girl almost 2 years old who looks strikingly similar to Carmy. I’m sure he’d be upset that she didn’t tell him about her though, but they talk through everything (maybe Carm has gotten some therapy by this point😅)

Carmy getting to know his daughter and overtime rekindling his relationship and getting back together with Y/n?🥹

Second Chances

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

The Bear Master List

My Directory

“Carmen! Will you fuckin’ talk to me!” you yelled as you watched Carmy move across your shared bedroom.

“There’s nothin’ to fuckin’ talk about!” he yelled back, throwing clothes into his suitcase.

“Carm, you can’t just ‘move back to Chicago’! We’re engaged! I’m in school, and you haven’t even put in a two-week notice. We just renewed our fuckin’ lease!” you challenged, throwing your hands up exhaustedly. “Listen, I get it. Grief and mourning is hard-”

“Don’t. Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Carmy said coldly, stopping in his tracks. You stepped back and watched Carmy push a hand through his hair, “Listen. Y/N. I need to do this. Come, don’t come. I honestly don’t fuckin’ care at this point.”

“You don’t care? Carmy… we’re engaged? We’re engaged, but don’t you care about me? About what I want? How do you-”

“Break up with me then.” Carmy cut you off. His words left you blindsided, and you stared at him as you let the emotions ruminate. 

“What?” 

“This is happening Y/N. I’m moving back to Chicago, and truthfully, I don’t care what you think or how this makes you feel. Mikey left me his restaurant, and I’m gonna make it good. Stay in New York, do whatever. I don’t care.” Carmy said scarily calmly as he zipped his bag. 

“Fuck you, Berzatto.” you scoffed as you tried to pry the engagement ring off of your finger. “I’ve known you for two fuckin’ years. You’ve talked to your sister, like, what, three times in the last two years? You’re brother even less- and now you’re throwing away our life to go run some shitty sandwich shop?”

“You don’t fuckin’ get it, Y/N! Okay. You don’t fuckin’ get it.” Carmy exacerbated as he grabbed his bag. “Just forget about me.”

~~~~

“Momma!” You heard your two-year-old's excited squeal from the other side of the AirBnB the two of you had been staying in. You groaned; it was 5 a.m. and entirely too early to wake up, but Hailey couldn’t tell time yet. As you got out of bed, you heard Hailey’s giggles intensifying. You laughed as you walked out of the bedroom and down the hall into the living room. Haliey had managed to get onto the window seat by the large bay window overlooking the busy Chicago street.

“Do you see a dog?” you cheerfully asked as you came up and lifted her onto your hip. Hailey nodded furiously and pointed across the street, where a man struggled to walk five large dogs. You smiled and bounced Haliey on your hip. “Just like at home, huh, sugar cookie? Chicago is a lot like New York.” Hailey giggled and rested her face on your collarbone, bringing her thumb to her mouth. “Okay, let’s get you some breakfast. Then we’ll get dressed. After that, you can watch some Bluey while Momma gets ready… then I’m gonna drop you off at Uncle Ryan’s house, and you two will have a super fun day- I heard he’s taking you to the zoo.” you explained, Hailey propped up at the mention of ‘the zoo’ which made you laugh. “Yeah, you and Uncle Ryan are gonna see lions, and tigers, and bears-”

“Oh my!” Haliey exactly squealed against her thumb. You laughed and sat her on the couch before going into the kitchen to make the two of you cereal bowls. “Momma!” 

“I’m comin’ Hailey. I’m comin’.” you ensured as you returned to the living room. You placed the bowls on the coffee table and grabbed your phone from your bag. “Okay… Hailey, I’m going to get this job. We are going to move to Chicago permanently… Mommas’ gonna have an amazing job, and you’re gonna be so so so happy.” you said more to reassure yourself as opposed to informing Hailey of your prospective job. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Hailey happily munched on her cereal and babbled on about some elaborate story she’d created while you nervously poked at your bowl. You watched her sandy brown bedhead-ridden hair bounce as she got more invested in telling you her story. Her stories were always the highlight of your day. Hailey was what kept you going when work was a pain in the ass or when everything was overwhelming. The way she lit up over things she loved, the way she laughed and smiled, her imagination… her eyes. The same dazzling blue of her father- you shook your head at the thought of him. 

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. James Beard award-winning chef with a highly decorated resume of some of the most prominent, four Michelin Star restaurants across the country- hell across the world. He not only gave up that to run a crappy sandwich shop, he also gave up your shared future. The night he left was one of the worst nights of your life. You almost failed your finals the following month, and then you found out you were pregnant. Finishing school, having Hailey, and doing internships was hard, but the work paid off. Today was the day you were interviewing to be the principal of one of Chicago's most elite private schools. Cushy benefits, a considerable pay bump, being closer to your brother and his long-term girlfriend… the only downside was the potential of running into Carmy. 

~~~

“Yo Y/N- over here!” Danny called, waving his hand to catch your attention just outside some fancy restaurant Suzie had managed to get a reservation at. You waved and saw Hailey smiling in your direction.

“Hey guys- there’s my baby!” you cooed, taking Hailey from his arms. She happily squealed and kicked her feet as you bounced her on your hip. “I missed you, sugar cookie.”

“How’d the interview go?” Suzie excitedly asked. You shrugged as you ran your thumb across Hailey’s cheek. Suzie nodded, “Well, they’d be stupid not to hire you. Com’on The Bear is one of the best new restaurants in the city, and I’ve been dying to try it.”

The four of you had a phenomenal meal, although there was something eerily similar about it. “I swear I’ve had this exact meal before.” you laughed.

Carmy was walking to the hostess stand when he heard your laughter. He stopped dead in his tracks and quickly scanned the dining room before his eyes landed on the back of your head. It had been years since he’d seen you, but your laugh was the dead giveaway he needed to identify you. Carmy turned his attention back to the hostess stand and passed off a clipboard. “Here…” he said before walking back to the kitchen. Before he entered, he looked back into the dining room and saw your side profile. He swallowed softly as he felt memories of the two of you rushing back to him. Carmy paused before quickly walking back into the kitchen and to his station. 

Carmy tried to distract himself for the rest of dinner service, but knowing you were on the other side of those swinging doors was enough to throw him off his game. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered in Syd’s direction before quickly walking into the back office before she could respond. As soon as he’d reached the office, he closed and locked the door behind himself before leaning back against the door and pushing his hands through his hair. “Name all the brown things…” he mumbled as he took a deep breath. Carmy looked around the office, “The couch… the desk…, and those shelves… fuckin’ Jason.” he scoffed, realizing the ‘anxiety tricks’ his therapist had taught him had been beneficial. After another deep breath, Carmy went to sit at his desk. He opened the top drawer to reveal a worn bubble mailer. He stared at it for a second before slamming the drawer closed. He couldn’t think about you right now; he needed to get back into the kitchen.

When he walked out of the kitchen again, he saw your party had left. Carmy cursed under his breath as he quickly walked toward the exit. You coming into his restaurant had to be a sign, right? He looked up and down the street, trying to find you. Panic began to creep up as he realized he may have been too late. “Holy shit… Carmy?” your voice made Carmy’s brain go blank as he turned to face you. He was awestruck by your presence and couldn’t manage to string two words together. “Carmy?” you asked again, laughing awkwardly. 

“He-ey-y bab- Y/N… hey Y/N.” Carmy corrected himself before shoving his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. 

“Hey… what are you doin’ here?” 

“Oh uh- this,” Carmy started before awkwardly gesturing up to The Bear, “It’s my-my restaurant. It used to be The Beef- Mikey’s restaurant, but uhh, we remodeled…” he explained. You nodded and glanced at your watch, wondering where Danny was with the car. “So uh- what, what brought you to Chicago?” 

“Job interview- principal position at Ridgeview Conservatory.” 

“Wow, that’s fancy.” Carmy responded, “You in Chicago much longer?” 

“A couple more days… visiting my brother Danny and his girlfriend.”

“Do you wanna get coffee tomorrow afternoon?” Carmy blurted out, “It’s cool if you can’t- I just… this feels like a- like a sign. Ya know?” 

You nodded, “I-I uh... Yes. I can do that.”

“Cool, cool… there’s this place on 9th called Ginger Snap- wanna meet up at like 3:30?”

“Yeah, that sounds good… see you then?” you confirmed, finally noticing Danny pulling up to the curb, “Bye, Carm..” he nodded and watched you get into the backseat next to the car seat. You glanced down to see Hailey sleeping. You watched her momentarily before the weight of your decision to have coffee with Carmy finally hit you. “Are you workin’ tomorrow, Danny?” 

“Yeah, did you need me to watch Hails?” he eagerly asked as he drove toward your AirBnB. 

“It’s okay. I can just take her with me.” 

“You have another interview?” Suzie brought up, turning her head to face you. You shook your head and thought for a second.

“Just hangin’ out with a friend of mine.” you slyly responded, hoping Danny hadn’t seen you talking to Carmy. Suzie shot you a suspicious look before turning back in her seat. “I’m sure they’ll love to meet Hailey.”

~~

“Carmy. Ready for our appointment?” Jason called. Jason was a clean-cut man. He wasn’t anything special. Carmy couldn’t pick him out if he'd been in a lineup of men. The waiting room was posh, with muted pastel green walls and some simplistic nature art in simple black frames. After a year, Carmy still couldn’t determine whether they were trees or leaves. He got up from his chair and tossed his empty coffee cup in the trash before following the man into an office. Carmy watched him sit in a dark leather armchair before he sat on a grey couch across from him. “So. What’s new?”

“I’m getting with my ex-fiance in about an hour… that’s-that’s new. Um… I don’t know how I feel about that.” Carmy started leaning back on the couch as he folded his arms over his lap and nervously played with the side seam of his jeans. He looked up to meet Jason’s non-chantant face, “I told her to forget about me, and then a couple of months later, she mailed me her engagement ring… I keep it at my desk as like a reminder of everything I gave up for this freakin’ restaurant- and then she has dinner in my restaurant.” Carmy chuckled softly, “She had dinner at my restaurant on a night when I made one of her favorite dishes- that’s a sign, right? She came to Chicago for a job interview- she’s gonna nail it. She’s a fuckin’ genius… badass clinical social worker with an additional master’s degree in early childhood education. She was always at the top of her class, even when she was working and doing multiple internships. She dealt with me being an ass… I don’t know Jason. It feels like a sign, and I know we talked about coincidences like six months ago, and I don’t wanna get all God-y, but I feel like this is God bringing her back to me. Like-like, the world is this big massive black hole of a place, and my life has been filled with all this pain and shit, right? She was the only good thing I had; now she’s back. I could get her back.” Carmy finally took a breath, and Jason shifted in his seat and moved his pen between his fingers like he had done when he was in deep contemplation. 

“Do you remember your first goal when we started seeing each other?” 

Carmy thought momentarily before a laugh escaped his chest. “I said I wanted to feel in control of my life.” Jason nodded and shifted in his seat again. “I sound insane, don’t I? I left this woman high and dry. She doesn’t want me back, but I need to apologize for the last time we saw each other.”

“What if she doesn’t accept your apology? Do you think you can accept that?”

Carmy scoffed at the question, “There’s no way she’s going to accept my apology. I think I can accept that… but can you concede it was, in fact, a sign that all of this is happening right now, right?”

“I believe in coincidences. I want you to tell me the worst-case scenario, the best-case scenario, and the most realistic scenario of what this meeting will result in.” Jason calmly asked while he maintained eye contact with Carmy.

“Okay…” Carmy nodded as he thought for a moment. “Worst case scenario, she either doesn’t show up, or she does show up and makes a scene tellin’ me what a d-bag I am- granted, she wouldn’t use that language. She’d say something WAY harsher, which is one of the many things I love- loved about her. She always spoke her mind… best case scenario, we get coffee. While we’re drinking our coffee, she tells me she’s moving to Chicago, and I ask her out, and we get back together.”

“Idealistic. I like that. What’s the most realistic?” Jason asked with a chuckle.

“We get coffee, we talk. She decides she doesn’t hate me for leaving her, and I don’t know beyond that…” Carmy answered truthfully.

~~

“This is a mistake…” you mumbled to yourself as you adjusted Hailey on your lap. Gingersnap Coffee was a small coffee shop. It was cute, definitely a place Carmy and you would’ve gone to when you two were together in New York. You sighed and went back to watching the door as Hailey flopped her giraffe toy on the table. 

Carmy arrived at the coffee shop on the dot at 3:30. He saw you sitting at the back table and felt a surge of energy overcome him. The two of you made eye contact; Carmy grinned as he approached the table. You stood up awkwardly, resulting in Haliey pausing her giraffe story, “Hey,” you smiled weakly, immediately regretting the fact you brought Hailey. Carmy was about to greet you when Hailey curiously looked up at him. He glanced down at the little girl and felt his heart stop. 

Carmy stared at Hailey. She smiled at him and pushed her giraffe toy in his direction. Unsure of what to do, he looked at you, then back at Hailey, then at you again before finally sputtering, “Yo-you have a kid?” 

You nodded slowly and gestured for him to sit down. Carmy hesitated, but after you sat down, he followed suit. Carmy stared at Hailey. “I shoulda told you.” you passively excused.

“W-wait…” Carmy started, “She’s… is she?”

You nodded at Carmy’s implication, “I can explain-”

Carmy shook his head, “You had my baby and didn’t tell me? Were you ever going to tell me?” 

“You left me,” you said in a hushed, blunt tone, “Carm, you told me to forget about you. I gave you the ring back. I blocked your number. I was trying to forget about you- then I found out I was pregnant. I hadn’t talked to you in weeks, and I figured if you could so easily throw away our engagement-”

“No.” Carmy spoke sternly, “If I knew you were pregnant, I woulda done the right thing.”

The two of you sat in a tense silence interrupted by Hailey sneezing multiple times, “Bess you!” she giggled, making you laugh as you dug a tissue out of your purse to wipe her nose. Carmy leaned back and watched the scene before him, realizing he’d missed two years of her life. “Tank you Momma.” 

Carmy wrung his hands out under the table and nervously glanced at the decorative clock on the wall adjacent to the table the three of you had occupied. “Do you wanna hold her?” your question surprised Carmy. He thought briefly before slowly nodding, “Okay… so Hailey, this is one of Mommy’s friends?” you stopped yourself and sighed. “That’s a lie… this is your Dad…” 

Dad. Camy felt like his chest would explode as you spoke to Hailey. The word echoed in his head as he accepted Hailey in his arms. She looked up at him with curious eyes. “Hi,” she softly greeted him as she reached up to touch Carmy’s face. He smiled at her.

“Hi,” Carmy repeated softly, “Is-is that- do… do you like giraffes?” 

~~

You were supposed to go back to New York the day after tomorrow; you stared up at the ceiling that night. As tired as you were, you couldn’t turn your brain off. Guilt, shame, regret… you should’ve told Carmy you were pregnant. What did he even mean by ‘do the right thing’? Would he have abandoned Mikey’s restaurant and come back to New York? Would the two of you gotten back together? Hailey’s life would’ve been so different if he’d been there from the start. You sighed, reached for your phone from the side table, and quickly scrolled to Carmy’s contact. You paused for a moment; it was almost 2 in the morning. You knew he was probably still awake.

“Hey- you okay?” Carmy answered on the first ring. “Yeah- can’t sleep… I’m due back in New York… I don’t know if I got the principal job… what do we do?” your voice quivered as you softly spoke into the phone. “I don’t know… I know I’ve only met Hailey once, but I love her. I can’t walk away from her.” 

“Are you watching that Italian grandma cooking show?” Carmy chuckled at your question, “Yeah… can’t sleep.” the line was quiet momentarily, “Hailey and I used to watch it when she was colic.” 

“She’s my kid.” Carmy chuckled. You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you through the phone. You rolled onto your side and watched Hailey sleep. She was sprawled out, taking up most of the bed with her little body. “If I get this job and move out here permanently, do you want to do a shared custody thing? I guess it could start with the three of us, and then you can have more individual time with her…”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Carmy asked, ignoring the custody question entirely. “What do you think? I’m workin’ two jobs and have a two-year-old.” you laughed. Carmy smiled and pushed a hand through his hair, “Okay… guess I just wanted to know if- I know you probably don’t wanna get back together, but I don’t know… I was talkin’ to my therapist earlier. He gave some perspective- I wasn’t the man you deserved. I treated you like fuckin’ shit, and I’ve spent the last two years of my life trying to forget about you and move on with my life and create something Mikey would be proud of… I regret how we ended and hate myself for not being involved in Hailey’s life. When I was holding her and-and she was tellin’ that story about her giraffe… I can’t go back to not being in her life.” Carmy admitted. “Uh- if you get that job and move out here, there’s an empty two-bedroom in my building. This isn’t me sayin’ we should move in together or anything, but um, if we’re in the same building, I can help with Hailey more and make that a little easier on ya and get to know her- what do you think?” 

“Wow… um…” you swallowed as thoughts raced through your head, “No pressure. If you stay in New York, I can visit- maybe… maybe move back? I haven’t really thought about it, but I want to be in Hailey’s life.” Carmy sputtered. “Uh- yeah… yeah. Even if I get the job out here, I still have to go back to New York to put in my two-week notice and talk to my landlord and just- just a lot of stuff…” 

“I didn’t scare you off, did I?” Carmy awkwardly laughed, “No. I mean- we won’t get back together just because we have a kid. But I’m open to you being in Hailey’s life.” 

~~

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.” Richie coldly said as he helped carry boxes upstairs. Carmy rolled his eyes, opting to ignore him. “Carmen, are you even sure she’s your kid?” 

“Will you shut the fuck up? Hailey is my daughter. I don’t need a test to prove it.” Carmy defended as he dropped a box on the floor of your new apartment. You’d gotten the principal position and moved to Chicago. With help from Danny and Richie, today was the day you and Hailey were officially moving out of Danny’s guest room and into the two-bedroom apartment across the hall from Carmy’s place.

“You didn’t say the empty apartment was directly across the hall from you.” you laughed as you entered the apartment. You noticed the tension between Richie and Carmy; your arrival in Chicago surprised the Berzatto family. While you and Carmy were together, you’d never been formally introduced to any of his family. Natalie and Pete welcomed you with open arms. She was happy to be an aunt and to see Carmy happy. Richie and Donna, on the other hand, were apprehensive about your presence in Carmy’s life. 

Carmy shrugged. “It’s not a problem, is it?” He tried to be nonchalant and keep his flirty tone more subdued, but everyone saw through it. Richie rolled his eyes and went back out to the moving van.

“Carm.”

“I just wanna be close by, not the worst thing in the world.” Carmy defended himself. You shook your head and took a box into Hailey’s bedroom. Carmy watched you walk away, swallowing softly when his eyes landed on your butt. He shook his head and walked across the hall. He entered his apartment to see Suzie sitting on the floor with Hailey. 

“Hey.” Suzie smiled when she noticed Carmy standing by the door. Hailey looked up and happily squealed. You and Hailey had been in Chicago for a couple of weeks, and Carmy was really trying to see Hailey as often as he could.

Carmy sat on the floor by Suzie while Hailey pushed herself off the floor to sit on his lap. He smiled and hugged her loosely, saying, “Hi, baby girl.” Hailey cuddled into his chest, making his heart flutter. 

You’d finished wrangling the boxes and wandered out of your apartment and across the hall to Carmy’s. You were going to ask if he was hungry but stopped when you saw Carmy leaning against the couch, cradling a sleeping Hailey, “And then you blanch the greens- that’s when you boil or steam something and immediately dip it in ice water. Your Momma used to hate greens, so one day, I made her this recipe, and she said it was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.” 

“I think she’s asleep,” you commented as you approached the couch. Carmy looked up at you and smiled.

“She is… I just wanted to finish reading this recipe to her.” Carmy shrugged, placing the book on the coffee table. You sat next to Carmy on the floor and put your head on Carmy’s shoulder as you watched Hailey’s chest rise and fall. 

“Where’d Suzie go?” you asked, scooting closer to Carmy. You noticed him swallow nervously before explaining she had to go to work. “You’re good with her,” you commented, referring to how Carmy cradled Hailey protectively.

“You think so?” Carmy asked as he shifted his attention to you.

You nodded, “You’re a natural.” 

Carmy scoffed, “I wouldn’t say I’m a natural… I just wanna make up for lost time.” you nodded again and snaked an arm around Carmy’s waist. He tensed at the feeling and sat straighter.

“Well, you’re doin’ great.”

~~

“Daddy!” Hailey happily squealed as Carmy walked into your apartment that morning. He smiled and put the bag he’d been carrying on the counter as he closed the front door with his foot. 

“Hi, baby girl.” he leaned down to pick her up. Hailey hugged him tightly and started explaining a dream she’d had. Carmy smiled and bounced her on his hip. He listened contently as he went into the kitchen. You heard the commotion from your bedroom. You smiled as Carmy’s voice carried through your askew bedroom door. As you finished getting ready for work, you noticed the conversation between Hailey and Carmy. It had been about six months since you’d moved to Chicago, and Carmy was holding on to his promise to be involved in Hailey’s life. Watching your daughter fall in love with him was touching. He was so calm around her and interested in everything she said.

When you left your bedroom, you saw Carmy and Hailey sitting at the table. She was happily munching on a bowl of cereal, and Carmy sat back, drinking a cup of coffee. “Hey Carmy, hi sugar cookie.” you smiled as you leaned in to kiss Hailey’s cheek. She squealed, making you smile before kissing her other cheek.

“Daddy, kiss too!” Hailey demanded, pointing to Carmy. 

“You want Daddy to kiss your cheek, too?” you asked, resting your chin on her head. 

“No! Daddy kiss too!” Hailey demanded again, “Momma, kiss Daddy too!”

You looked at Carmy and saw a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Do you think Daddy wants a kiss, too?”  Hailey squealed and pointed at Carmy again. You nodded and kissed the top of her head before moving over to kiss his cheek. Hailey giggled and went back to eating her cereal. Carmy swallowed softly and quickly finished his coffee before abruptly standing up to rinse out his coffee cup. You waited a second before joining him in the kitchen. “Sorry, was that weird?”

Carmy shook his head, “No, it was okay, but… can Daddy have a real kiss sometime?” 

“I think that can be arranged.” you chimed nonchalantly. 

“Can Daddy take you out sometime?” 

“Only if you stop referring to yourself as Daddy.” you laughed as you playfully pushed his shoulder. 

“Deal.”

[blue-lights-to-dreams]

Golden Light (pt. 2) // H.S.

part 2 to Golden Light! please read that first if you haven't already!

synopsis: you and Harry go back to your apartment after your date, and learn a little more about each other in the process.

warnings: smut, kissing, fingering (f receiving), i think that's it?

wc: 3.6k

a/n: the (maybe) long-awaited sequel to Golden Light as so many of you requested! thank you all so much for all of the love on that work, i'm so happy you guys enjoyed it. let me know what you think of this and if you'd like to see a part 3! :)

----------

The crackle of the fireplace (and the wine you were drinking) was almost enough to soothe your nerves. Almost. 

You and Harry were sprawled on your living room floor, backs against the couch, enjoying the heat radiating from the fire as Harry described what he had gotten his family for Christmas this year. It was only the beginning of December, but he had everyone’s gifts already. He was so prepared, and the gifts he picked were so thoughtful. Each came with a backstory of exactly why he chose it, usually after the person mentioned something in passing once or twice. 

A vintage whale-shaped coffee mug for his sister, who’d talked about how much she enjoyed a documentary about them over brunch one day. A beautiful landscape by a local painter for his mother after she admired another of her works when they’d gone to the art museum. He’d even gotten a custom doll made for his goddaughter after she complained one day that none of the ones at the store looked like her.

You’d picked out a riesling from your small stash of wine when you two arrived at your flat, remembering that’s what Harry preferred. You’d quickly changed into soft shorts and a graphic t-shirt, needing out of your dress, before the two of you settled on the floor and fell back into comfortable chatter.

It was probably for the better that he was the one speaking at the moment, because you could feel your head get fuzzier with each sip from your glass. As much as you tried to stay focused, you couldn’t help but run your eyes up his frame. He’d draped his blazer over the back of one of your barstools as he’d come in, leaving him in just his slacks and half-unbuttoned dress shirt. He looked stunning.

Harry noticed the way you were looking at him but elected not to say anything as he continued his story. “I’m really hoping she’s going to like it. How about you? Anything special you’ve gotten for anyone?”

His question snapped you out of your mild stupor, and you racked your brain. “Not really – I’m not nearly as prepared as you are. I only need to get a couple of things, though. Just something for my mom and a few for my friends. Nothing major.”

“No siblings?” He asked.

“Nope. Well, I do have them, but they’re my step-siblings, and I don’t think I’ve seen them since I was like 14 or so. My dad kind of packed them up and ran for the hills with his new wife at that point.” Your statement was blunt, and you picked at the skin around your nails as you explained. It wasn’t anything you had a hard time discussing anymore, given it had been upwards of 10 years. 

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry looked like he didn’t know what to say. You probably should have said that differently, you thought, not wanting to overshare and make him uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, Harry. It was a long time ago, and probably for the better. My mom and I have only gotten closer since then, and I wouldn’t change it.” He nodded in understanding with a small smile but didn’t respond, letting his gaze drift to the artwork hung over the mantle of the fireplace.

A hush fell between the two of you, the noise of the fire and your creaky New York City radiator the only things audible. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just calm and peaceful. You stood to open the window – the heat was getting to be too much. It was nearing midnight at this point, so there wasn’t much commotion on your street, but the sound of cars driving by now and then was familiar and soothing.

You returned to your seat, slightly closer to Harry than you had been previously. He seemed deep in thought, arm draped lazily over the seat of the couch behind him. His eyes hadn’t left the window after they followed your movement there.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You questioned softly, turning to face him and pulling your knees to your chest, leaning to rest your shoulder against the cushions. You didn’t mean to pry, but you wanted to know what was going on inside that pretty head of his.

“Honestly,” he exhaled, brows furrowing slightly, “you.”

“Me?” Not the answer you’d expected.

“Yes, you,” he spoke with a hint of teasing, flashing a quick smile at you before glancing away. “I was thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed myself this much on a date. I really like you, Y/N.” His eyes returned to yours like they were searching for your response.

His earnestness left you speechless for a moment. You stared back at him - his eyes were so green, so beautiful, like waves were crashing against white sand just behind his pupils.

“I like you too, Harry.” He relaxed slightly, shifting his position a hair. “This is definitely the best date I’ve been on in a long time.” You weren’t always great at expressing emotion, but it was only fair for him to know how you felt too.

He grinned, then, and pushed himself up to slide closer to you on the floor. His eyes were still locked on yours, both of you smiling at each other like giddy teenagers. His arm was almost around you now but remained on the couch as you lowered your legs, returning them to a cross-legged position. Harry reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear before allowing his hand to rest gently on the side of your neck, thumb caressing your jawbone slowly. He looked you up and down, again admiring how gorgeous you looked before flitting his eyes to your lips. 

He inhaled briskly, hand not halting its movements on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, of course. You don’t have to ask, but I appreciate it.” As much as you liked Harry being a gentleman, right now, you honestly just wanted him to be anything but.

He nodded quickly before pulling you forward, pressing his lips to yours. It started with slow, gentle movements of your lips together, but quickly became much more desperate. His hands roamed your face before moving to your waist, gripping the skin above your hips just firmly enough to drive you crazy. Your hands were pressed to his chest over his thin silk shirt, and you could feel the muscles there flex as he moved his hands around your body. You weren’t normally one to care about muscles, but something about his drove you crazy.

Harry’s thumbs brushed your lower ribs as he deepened the kiss, stealing your breath for a moment. Your hands instinctively moved to his hair, fingers knotting through and gently gripping his short curls. A small groan left his throat, shooting straight to your core. His hands suddenly gripped your hips harshly, lifting you to pull you into his lap. He swallowed the small gasp you let out as he did so, flattening his hands on your back to pull you against him as you settled on his thighs. The kiss was sloppy, now, almost depraved, as he tried to pull you as close as physically possible. The way you were tugging his hair was driving him wild, you could tell, and it only encouraged you.

You pulled away from his mouth for just a second as your fingers moved to toy with the small buttons of his shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Please,” Harry sighed, loosening his grip on you so you had the space to work. As you undid the last button, he pulled away from the couch and shrugged the shirt off, allowing it to fall onto the floor behind him.

He was breathtaking. At dinner, you could see the tattooed heads of what you assumed to be two small birds peeking out from under his shirt, but you weren’t expecting him to have so many more. Those swallows sat just underneath his collarbone, above a large butterfly on his stomach that almost appeared lifelike, the ink stretching and compressing as he breathed. His left arm was nearly covered in various small symbols and words, and you made a mental note to ask about them later. 

Your hands returned to his chest, this time without barriers. The skin there was soft to the touch but you could feel the firm muscle underneath. It was warm. Hot.

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a smirk at your wide-eyed gaze. After a few seconds of letting you stare, he pulled your lips back to his, unable to wait. It was just as desperate as before.

His large hands slowly slid down your back as your mouths moved together, finding the hem of your shirt before reaching underneath it to grab your hips. The feeling of his warm hands contrasted with the cold metal of the rings he wore, pulling a small gasp from you.

His firm grip on your hips was short-lived as his hands quickly began drifting upwards, thumbs slightly massaging your lower ribs. Fingers splayed on your back, Harry felt you pant into the kiss, unable to catch your breath.

He pulled away for a second, removing his hands from your skin. A small groan escaped you at the loss of warmth, which you hoped Harry didn’t notice. One hand moved to hold your face and the other bunched the hem of your shirt and tugged on it slightly. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, not breaking eye contact. He needed to make sure you were okay with it, just like he would with whatever else ended up happening that night.

You nodded quickly, helping him lift the shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor beside you. He gripped your shoulders and pushed you away slightly so he could see you.

Harry thought you were stunning. His eyes raked longingly over every inch of you - shoulders, arms, breasts, and stomach, taking it all in. His hands slid off your shoulders to press against your ribs again, thumbs brushing the skin just under your bra. He tore his eyes away from the fabric and skin, gazing at you slack-jawed with blown-out pupils.

“Y’so beautiful, Y/N,” he panted, words slurred slightly from the breathlessness, and your heart just about burst in your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like this, and it made you nervous, but the look in Harry’s eyes told you there was nothing to be afraid of. He didn’t look like he just wanted to fuck you – he looked like he wanted to worship you.

Instead of a response, you smashed your lips back to his. One of the hands gripping your ribs shifted to cup you over your bra, and you couldn’t help the moan that you let out. This only spurred Harry on as he followed suit, groaning into your mouth. The noise was divine – a low, throaty rumble that went straight to your core.

You needed more of his skin on you. Now. 

You reached behind yourself and unhooked your bra, shaking it off your shoulders until it dropped to the floor on top of your shirt. While you appreciated Harry asking for permission to continue with everything, you couldn’t wait until he worked up the nerve to ask you before feeling his bare hands on your chest.

He took your invitation to continue grasping at your breast, this time with no barrier. A louder moan left you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, electricity pulsing through your veins. Harry groaned into your mouth again, his other hand resting on your ass and bringing it forward until you sat directly on top of his length. It pressed deliciously against you, pulling another gasp from your throat. He was hard beneath you as you ground back on him, hips rocking in sync with the kiss.

You broke away for a moment to catch your breath, continuing to move against him. Your head fell back until you were panting up at the ceiling. Harry wasted no time in connecting his lips with your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, licks, and soft bites along it and down to your shoulder blades. The room was quiet apart from the symphony of both of your breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the odd car passing by.

He continued to kiss down your body to the soft tissue of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth. The feeling was heaven as his tongue flicked the bud before moving to the other side, his thumb replacing it. His other hand was reaching down your stomach to the button of your shorts, toying with the seams of the fabric. He removed his mouth from you, and you had to hold back a whine of disappointment.

“Is it alright if we get these off of you?” he asked tenderly, staring into you again. You nodded hastily, helping him unbutton them and lifting your hips so he could pull the fabric down your legs and over your knees. You kicked them off, leaving you in just your underwear as he looked you up and down again.

With the layer of fabric gone, your center met his again. You could feel the warmth radiating from his shaft as you pressed onto him, the two of you both groaning in pleasure. The rigid zipper of his pants rubbed firmly against your clit addictively.

A sudden wave of insecurity rushed over you as you realized the situation you’d put yourself in. Here you were, on a blind date with a near stranger, and you were already sitting on top of him in just your underwear while he was still in his pants. It wasn’t like you to give in to a man this quickly, but Harry’s face and smile and body and charm had gotten into your head and pushed away your ability to reason. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be doing this - it was quite the opposite, you were having a lovely time. You just didn’t want Harry to think you were easy, or that this was your plan.

You didn’t realize your movements against Harry had stilled until he was holding your face again, forcing you to look at him. He knew you were in your head about something, and he needed to find out what before taking things any further.

“Y/N, hey, what’s wrong? Do y’need to stop?” His voice was thick with concern as he searched your eyes for discomfort. You shook your head hurriedly, not wanting him to think you weren’t enjoying yourself.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you sighed, face flushing in embarrassment. “I’m just– I’m not usually the type to fuck on the first date. I don’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you.”

“Well, ‘f it helps, I wasn’t planning on having sex with you tonight.” Before you could react negatively (as you were about to) he quickly continued, “I just want to make you feel good tonight. You said you’ve been stressed out all week about work, and I just want to make that go away for you for a while. S’that okay, baby?”

Of course, he knew the perfect thing to say. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head at how considerate he was, and the pet name at the end was the cherry on top. “That sounds really nice. Thank you, Harry.”

He chuckled before lifting your hips off of his and setting you on the floor next to him, making sure you were close to the fireplace so you didn’t get cold. His hands prompted you to turn your body so you were parallel to the couch. One hand took root in your hair while the other caressed the bare skin on your hip as he kissed you again, slower this time. Harry used your hair as leverage to slowly pull you down until you were on your back on the floor, him slotted between your open legs.

“I want to take care of you, sweetheart, is that okay?” As if you would say no.

Your whiny ‘yes’ was rewarded with his hands caressing your inner thighs slowly, teasingly. You assumed you were noticeably soaked, the baby pink cotton of your underwear unforgiving when it came to hiding your arousal. He massaged the soft skin, moving upwards until his thumb brushed over the fabric’s seam nestled in the crease of your thigh. Your hips moved of their own accord, lifting in search of any friction they could find. Harry tsked quietly, securing a hand on your hip and pushing it back down on the floor.

He rolled onto his side from between your legs, supporting himself on an elbow with his hand cradling your head and wrapping an ankle around your leg to keep them open. His other hand traced a soft line over the wet patch between your legs, fingers brushing your clit with a feather-light touch. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, please,” you whined, trying to regulate your breathing. 

He chuckled teasingly. “What d’you need, baby? Use your words.”

“I need –” you cut yourself off, unsure of why you were embarrassed to say it when you knew he already knew what you wanted. “I need you to touch me, please.”

That was all he needed before he slipped his fingers underneath your underwear and swiped them through your wet folds. The contact was heavenly, forcing a choked moan from your throat as he drew circles around your clit in a precise rhythm. He was obviously experienced, building that warm feeling in your stomach faster than even you could yourself.

“Need these off,” he ordered, tugging your underwear down your legs and helping you kick them off before he hooked an ankle around your knee and spread your legs again. His hand returned to your core, this time with his thumb pressing on your clit and his middle finger teasing your entrance. Your soft groan encouraged him to slide it into you, pulling a myriad of lush sounds from your mouth as he pumped in and out. When he curled his fingers into you and brushed against the spongy patch that felt so good, you thought you were a goner. That was until he slipped his ring finger in alongside his middle and picked up his motions on your clit once more. It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the edge, the feeling building in your insides until you felt like a rubber band about to snap.

“Harry, I’m gonna –” a prolonged moan interrupted your statement.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he spoke softly in your ear, leaving a small kiss on your cheekbone. “Let it go for me.”

That was all you needed. The rubber band inside you snapped, and your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. You clenched tightly around Harry’s fingers, hips writhing, as he worked you through your release. He whispered praises in your ear but you could barely hear them as the room seemed to disappear, leaving just you and the feeling of Harry’s touch. You had to grip his wrist to remove his hand from you after a few seconds, the continued motion turning overstimulating quickly. 

After taking a moment to catch your breath, you rolled onto your side to throw an arm around Harry’s neck and pull him closer to you. Your nakedness was catching up to you as not even the warmth from the fireplace was enough.

Harry quickly realized how cold you were and turned to grab the throw blanket off of the couch, draping it over both of you. That was something you were quickly learning about Harry – he was very attentive, and he seemed to be able to anticipate your needs before you even realized them yourself.

After a few moments of quiet, the sounds of your breathing mixing with the other ambient noises, you spoke. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything for you? I feel bad leaving you, you know, high and dry.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a kiss against your hair. “I promise m’okay, Y/N. What you can do for me, though, is let me clean you up and get you in bed. Our backs are going to kill us tomorrow if we stay on this floor any longer.”

----------

After Harry helped you clean up and change into a fresh pair of pajamas, he slipped out of his trousers, leaving him in just his boxers. You’d both crawled into your bed, and you rested your head against his bare chest as his arm stroked small circles on your shoulder. It took everything in you not to fall asleep, but you didn’t want this night with him to end quite yet.

“Harry?” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere in the room with your words.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for everything tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself this much, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

“Y’ don’t have to thank me – I had just as good of a time. You’re really special, Y/N. I’d love to do this again, if you’d let me?”

“Which part?” you laughed, “the dinner part or the after-dinner part?”

“Well, honestly, preferably both.” You were both laughing now, his stomach muscles tensing under your hand. 

“I think I’d be okay with that,” you agreed, knowing deep down you’d probably beg on your hands and knees for him to let you see him again.

“Thank you, baby. Now get some sleep.” He pressed another kiss to your hair and pulled you tighter to his chest, his other hand ensuring the blankets were tucked snugly around your shoulders before he allowed his body to sink back against the pillows. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a certain brown-haired boy that you knew wouldn’t be leaving your mind anytime soon.

[richarlotte]

something on your mind?

Time to talk about love.

My friends, my good friends who are in Chicago, D.C., Montreal, Philly, and New York and who are in amazing relationships, share one thing: they focused on bettering their lives and themselves, and good men fit into the picture they were focused on painting. There was no “I’m going to find a good man and do the work later,” and there were no excuses made as to why they were neglecting themselves in favor of finding someone to take care of them; there were many distinct efforts made to better themselves, and when the right people came along, things fell into place naturally on both sides and progressed smoothly.

 

There’s a lot of focus on whether someone will fit into your life on Tumblr, but not a lot of talk about what’s going on on the other side. If you’re unhealed, uneducated, emotionally unstable, and unfit for a relationship, do you really think that you’ll find someone who’ll want to stay with you and do the healing for you? I say this not to be unkind but to be realistic. In order to form a strong, long-lasting relationship with someone, you have to be healthy and ready to deal with the conflicts and disappointments that occur in anyone’s life. If you have never had to deal with the things that can arise in any romantic relationship and you’re not mentally prepared to in the first place, you’ll find that it’ll be harder for you to keep things together and remain stable when life feels hard.

 

I have been in relationships before—healthy relationships—and I have thrived in them. But I’m also a person with trauma, and I know how that trauma presents itself and I know my triggers. It took me plenty of therapy, lots of listening to myself and acknowledging my feelings, and tons of breakups before I recognized both what I needed and what I was subconsciously seeking out. All of my friends who have made their longterm relationships last know what they’re looking for, know what they need, and know themselves well enough to walk away before things end on bad terms. Self-work must be done if you want to truly thrive in life, and you must have the ability to reflect on the things you could have done better.

 

Myself and the people I’ve known who’ve gone from struggling to thriving in relationships all share one common denominator: we’ve done the hard work associated with success, and we’re all willing to continue doing the work needed to get what we want. It’s incredibly hard and very damaging to one’s psyche to go through life with a clear image of what you want in your mind but a lack of awareness that limits you from getting what you want. It’s important to understand that you can overcome the obstacles in your own path and you can also overcome being an obstacle yourself. There are effective ways to heal, books you can immerse yourself in, therapists you can see, and things you can do to build yourself up so that you can thrive and feel more confident in your love life.

TL;DR:

You have to be willing to do the inner work before you seek out a romantic partner. A relationship won’t repair you if you feel broken; only you can heal yourself and fix your trauma. It’s an important part of finding yourself and finding a love that lasts and feels healthy.

[rafesfavgirl]

her lips on your neck — j. maybank

meant to have this up last night, but i got fucked up lolz

❝ since you admitted it, i keep picturing her lips on your neck, i can't unsee it ❞

pairing: cheater!jj x fem!reader

context: late at night, you get back to the obx from a week-long trip to new york with your parents and decide to surprise your boyfriend and best friends.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: cheating (i don't condone it!!), might break you, no happy ending, ANGST ANGST ANGST

"what the fuck are we suppose to tell y/n?" you hear pope mention your name, as he sat with john b in the enclosed back porch of the chateau and immediately stop yourself from joining them, curious as to what else they had to say.

"dude, i don't know," john b shrugged at him, the expression on his face looking as if he was torn between some hard decision.

what could they possibly be talking about?

"i mean, it's not like they meant for it to happen, right?" john b continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of something.

"do you really think she'll see it that way?" pope asks him. "jj just slept with kie."

john b winces at pope's words like they were too hard for him to hear and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your eyes becoming blurry with tears as anger starts coursing through your veins.

"we gotta tell her," pope adds.

they didn't even hear that you'd entered the porch, now only standing a few feet away from them.

"you just did." the sound of your voice causes them to snap their heads towards you, both of them now completely at a loss for words. "is jj here?" you speak slowly to stop your voice from shaking.

when neither of them reply and just exchange glances, you repeat yourself. "where's. jj."

"y/n…" john b starts to stand from his seat, but you don't let him finish or get any closer, before you're barging into the chateau.

you feel your body shake as jj comes out of one of the rooms chuckling and pulling his muscle tank down.

"you didn't," you shake your head as he looks at you.

"y/n…"

when kiara comes out of the same room and steps up behind him, you get your answer.

"you did," you say, your eyes shifting from kie to jj.

"babe, i-" jj begins, taking a step towards you.

"no," you immediately cut him off and hold a hand out in front of you to stop him from getting any closer. “we’re done.”

that was two weeks ago. you hadn’t seen jj, or your friends since then, actively trying to avoid them as much as possible. that didn’t stop them from texting though.

john b and pope have checked in every now and then to make sure you’re doing okay, while kie and jj blow your phone up 24/7 with empty apologies.

j<3: i’m outside. please let me explain.

you stare at the text on your phone for a second and hop to your feet to peek out the window, where surely enough, you saw jj perched against his bike on the curb of your front lawn, waiting.

letting out a deep sigh and against your better judgment, you walk towards the front door and open it, only to find that he had walked up your front porch and was about to knock.

“hey…” his voice is small, and his baby blue eyes light up at the sight of you, making your heart ache.

by the prominent eye bags under them, you could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. but wasn’t that how it should have been? he was the one who cheated on you.

you don’t say a word and just turn to walk further into your living room, jj following after you and shutting the door.

“i know you don’t owe me anything,” he continues, as you turn to look at him again, your arms crossed across your chest.

“you’re right, i don’t,” you say, trying to be cold.

it was hard, though. there was a piece of your heart that still yearned for him. a piece that you had a feeling would love him forever. no matter how badly he’s just screwed you over.

“why’d you do it?” you ask.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “i don’t know why i did it. we were drinking… and talking… you weren’t here, and i- i guess we just…”

“what?” you feel your hand start to shake as he tried to come up with an excuse. “got caught up in the moment?”

“y- yeah…” he glances down, and you scoff.

“god, i am such an idiot!” you run your hands through your hair and take a seat on the armchair behind you.

“y/n that’s not…” he slowly approaches you while you shake your head at him.

“i should’ve known,” you say. “it was her before me.”

jj shakes his head as he closes the distance between the two of you and crouches down in front of you, a hand landing on your knee. “baby, that’s not true.”

you glance at his hand on your knee before looking at him again. “but it is.”

“look, i fucked up, okay?” he said, his tone desperate now. “i know that. but please… please believe me when i tell you that it was a mistake. and it’s never going to happen again.”

“how can i believe that?” you ask, tears threatening to brim along your lower lashes. 

“just trust me,” he tells you.

a bitter scoff falls from your lips as you stand up and cross the room, half angry and half confused, not knowing what to think or believe.

“i did trust you, j!” you say, turning to look at him again with tears in your eyes as he gets up from his crouching position and faces you. “and you screwed me over anyway.”

“y/n…” he walks towards you, and you feel your weight shift to one foot, your body feeling a little limp. 

there was a part of you that still loved him—feelings don’t disappear just like that—but you knew you deserved better. that there was someone out there who wouldn’t even think about doing what he did.

"i love you…" he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and push your hair back, your first instinct causing you to lean into his touch, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you lock your eyes with his. "pretty girl." he closes the distance between you two, his forehead resting against yours, a tear trailing down your cheek as you closed your eyes. "i am so so so sorry. i promise— i promise, i won't ever hurt you again."

you wanted nothing more than to believe him. to forgive him. to forget. but you knew, deep down, that wasn't possible.

you shake you hear against his, sniffling. "j, i can't…"

"no, no, no," he replied. "you can. you— you have to, i can't-" he tilts his chin upwards to kiss you, and though you want desperately to let him, you push him away.

"no, jj!" you shout. "you— you can't just kiss me and think it's all gonna go away!"

"okay, okay, i'm not," he backs off a little, and then takes your hands in his, baby blues pleading. "but you need to forgive me. i could never live with myself if you didn't. i— i can't go on without you… without…" he brings your hands together and clasps his hands around them as he brings them up to his lips to kiss them softly. "your touch…" he moves a hand towards your cheek again, caressing it just like last time. "your smile…" he trails it across your collar bone and down your arm to place it on your chest. "your love… god, y/n i’ve never been loved by anyone like you."

his face falls limp against you and he drops to his knees, arms immediately locking around your hips as he rests the side of his head against you.

"please… please forgive me," his voice sounds desperate now, breaking your heart even more.

"i— i can't…" you wrap your hands around his arms and try to pull him off you, but it doesn't work—he just clutches onto you tighter. "you're just not the same person to me anymore…" you shake your head. "the jj i fell for would've never ever done anything to hurt me, but now…" you bring your hands up to your head, trying to keep it together. "god! every time i look at you… all i see is her and what you did… i— i just keep picturing you guys together and-"

"and we can fix that," jj pulls away and gets back on his feet to look at you. "i mean, it's gon' take time, but eventually… you— you can forget it, right?"

there was a hopeful look in his eyes, but you knew that wasn't enough to fix things.

you shake your head and sigh, the hope in his eyes immediately diminishing. "no, i don't think i can."

"but that— that would mean that this…" his voice cracks, his mind clearly in disarray as he motions a hand between you two. "no. this can't be over."

your watery eyes lock with his, which were now red from holding back tears. "then why is it?"

if you happen to also be a rafe girl, consider this part 2 & part 3.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

[henrythehorse]

"Since the rise of The Beatles, John has gained the image of the vicious, outspoken Beatle. How did he like it? "It’s been very useful," he replied. "A lot of slimy reporter types seem to have got to fear me, it’s fantastic. I didn’t work for the title of the vicious Beatle, the biting Beatle, the one with the rapier wit. It’s a load of crap. It’s handy being tagged like this. When I meet intelligent and hip people, I have to be on my toes not to disillusion them. The people who have fallen for my image and publicity go to Paul, which I think’s funnier still."

"Paul can be very cynical and much more biting than me when he’s driven to it. ’Course, he’s got more patience. But he can carve people up in no time at all, when he’s pushed. He hits the nail right on the head and doesn’t beat around the bush, does Paul."

John Lennon, interview w/ Ray Coleman for Melody Maker. (April 10th, 1965)

"I remember John saying to me, ‘God, I remember walking behind a group of press and you at some cocktail reception. I was just hovering near, and you were giving them the world’s greatest bullshit! Not a word of it was true,’ he said. ‘I loved it, though, it was brilliant.'"

Paul McCartney: Many Years from Now by Barry Miles

“You know, it serves Paul right,” John went on. “I think subconsciously he wanted to get busted.” John speculated that Paul’s fondness for marijuana was his way of “rebelling against this image of the ‘goody-two-shoes’ businessman” with which the Eastmans had stuck him. “Paul wanted to show the world—particularly the British—that he’s still a bit of a bad boy’ John concluded."

The Last Days of John Lennon: A Personal Memoir by Fred Seaman

JOHN: Well, he had a single – it’s on the radio, out here – and I thought that ‘Coming Up’ was great! But I liked the freak version that he made in his barn [more] than that live Glasgow one, you see. I’m – yeah.

HILBURN: The one that’s on the album. The one with the speeded up voices?

JOHN: Yeah, I think that’s – if I’d been with him, I would have said, “Yes, that’s the one,” too, and I thought that the record company had the nerve changing it round on him. But you know, I know what they mean, they want to hear the real guy singing, but I like the freaky one. Stevie Wonder does it, nobody moans at him. 

John Lennon in talks with LA Times writer Robert Hilburn. October 10th, 1980 (Hit Factory, New York).

[rosenclaws]

could i request #92 with eddie and logan if possible? i absolutely love your writing and congrats on 600!!

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, threesome, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, anal, crying, fingering, logan and eddie banter, eddie gets cut slightly by Logans claws

92 - “I can’t- please- I can’t-”

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.8k

a/n: this is such a good fucking idea oh my goddd. I was so excited to write this and I loveee both of them. I hope you like it!!

Logan never liked to share. Ever. He was possessive to a fault. Sometimes his jealousy boarded toxic but usually it ended in the best case scenario. Getting your brains fucked out. This time however, played a little differently.

New York City was the best and even as Logan grumbled about the busy city he followed you without question. A small bar with bras hanging on the walls ended up being the place you spent your night. Logan was grabbing the two of you drinks when a man approached you.

"Hey, I've never seen you here before." He flashes a handsome smile, a cigarette resting in his mouth.

“Just passing through.” You hum as you take in the stranger.

You and Logan had…talked about expanding things in the bedroom. Bringing in a third to make things a little interesting. Logan would rather chop off his dick than let anyone else touch you. Especially no one at the mansion. A stranger you’d never see again however, that's a different story.

“The names Eddie. I live in the apartment upstairs if you want to come and see the view.”

“The view down here is just fine.” Logan butts in. Getting physically between you and Eddie. He stares Eddie down. Ready to unsheathe is claws if you asked him to. Instead you put your hand on his closed fists and rub softly.

“Logan this is Eddie, remember what we talked about…” You whisper in his ear. Logan growls but stops glaring daggers into the other man.

“Look I’m not a home wrecker. I’m sorry if I’m stepping on your guard dogs tail I just thought you’re a beautiful girl and wanted to come talk to you.” Eddie smirks when he sees Logan’s eyes flash with anger at his words. He’s seriously going back off but there's a part of him that enjoys this.

“Hold on Eddie.” You grab his wrist and ask him to sit.

Explaining that you and Logan were exclusive but open minded and Eddie wasn’t looking for anything more than a one night stand. Logan doesn’t take his hand off your thigh as Eddie flirts up a storm with both you and himself. Logan was hard to break but Eddie wanted to see the dog bite. Eventually he brings you up to his apartment.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” You ask Logan sweetly.

Logan nods and pulls you into a feverish kiss. Is he thrilled about sharing you, no. But he knows that your his no matter what. Plus he gets to prove to you that no one is better than him.

“Getting started already?” Eddie hums as he watches you and Logan make out.

Logan tugs your shirt over your head. Without thinking he unsheathes his claws to cut your bra strap. Eddie chokes on his drink as he sees the sharp claws. Logan looks over and smirks.

“Scared of a little metal, boy?” Eddie gulps, feeling his pants get tighter.

“Not at all, don’t hurt yourself old man.” He mumbles as he beckons the two of you into his room.

In an instant you go from Logan’s arms to Eddies as he kisses you. His hands squeezing your breasts as Logan gets rid of the rest of your clothes. Eddie's lips trail down until he's kissing and biting your chest. You gasp in a slight bit of pain as bites your nipple.

"Watch it." Logan grumbles but you calm him.

"I can handle a little pain." You hum and Eddie just smiles.

Clothes fly everywhere and it all becomes a blur. Eddie and Logan banter back and forth as it soon becomes a pissing contest. Who can make you scream the loudest? Come the hardest? You loved every second of it. The foreplay is nice but you were craving more. Eddie's the first to take pity on you.

"Think we've teased her enough Logan." His fingers fuck your cunt slowly. You're leaking onto the sheets, making a mess as the two men play with you like a toy.

"Can I fuck your sweet pussy?" Eddie asks as he pulls his fingers out.

He moves to put them in his mouth but Logan grabs his wrist. Sucking your juices off his fingers. Logan winks and buries his own two fingers inside of you. Eddie is a handsome man but Logan is massive. His fingers already stretching you tight.

"Yes please!" You whine as you grab Eddie's cock in your hand.

"You better take care of her cunt Alden, because only I get to claim her ass." Logan takes his soaking wet fingers and pushes them slowly into your ass.

Your breath hitches as he works you open. Going nice and slow as to not hurt you. Once he's satisfied he manhandles you until your ass is up and your face is resting on Eddies chest. Eddie groans as your cunt hovers over his cock. The anticipation is killing you.

"Come on, don't chicken out now." Logan holds your waist as Eddie guides his dick into your folds.

You gasp as Logan lets go and you drop onto his cock. Taking all of it at once. Eddie moans as he feels you squeezing him tight. Your eyes are shut as you try and breathe, already feeling so full but know there's more to come.

"Just relax sweetheart." Logan whispers as he kisses the side of your head. Eddie links his hands with yours as Logan stuffs himself inside of you. He's going much too slow for your liking. Logan locks your hips into place. Refusing to let you move.

"Patience." Logan groans. The tight feel of your ass coupled with the knowledge you're being filled in two different holes, it sets him off. After a few minutes of silence you start to worry the boys.

“You alright there sweetheart?” Logan grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head up.

“Look at her, she can’t talk right now big man.” Eddie hums as he bucks his hips. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Eddie’s cock nudges something deep inside of your cunt.

“Yeah she can, I know my girl Alden.” Logan feels a low growl in his throat.

“I’m sure you do, but now so do I.” Eddie grins as he sees the anger flare in Logan’s eyes.

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You groan as your head falls onto Eddie’s chest.

“You heard your girl." It's a miracle the two of them can find a rhythm. Working in tandem to take you apart with every move of their hips. As Logan moves back Eddie fucks up and vice verse. Basically giving you no time to rest.

"That all you got, I'd have her coming by now." Logan taunts as he slaps your ass.

"Shut up." Eddie grits out of his teeth as his hand reaches down to play with your clit.

"Fuck!" You wail as the sensation rocks your body.

"That feel good baby? Tell me who fucks you better, Me or the old man?" Eddie picks up his pace while relentlessly rubbing your clit.

You can barely get a word out as you come hard on his cock. Squeezing both of them as your orgasm shakes every nerve. Logan and Eddie don't slow down, Somehow going even harder than before. Desperate for their own release.

“I can’t- please- I can’t-” You cry as they lock you between their bodies.

Nonstop pleasure coursing through your body. It's too much. The strong hands, the messy kisses, the sounds, the feeling of their cocks together. Tears start to stream down your face but you don't want them to stop. You could live in this feeling for the rest of your life.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Eddie's pace becomes erratic.

Grabbing your face and pulling you down for a hot kiss. His hips slam up into you one more time before he comes, gushing inside of you. He's panting as his stamina gives out.

Logan smirks as he continues to fuck your ass. A silent win in his head to know that his sexual prowess is still unmatched. "Almost there sweetheart, just a little more." His thrusts are powerful enough to move you up and down Eddies cock.

"Shit, never felt this good in my fucking life." Eddie groans as the overstimulation starts to kick in. Every little bounce is dialed up to eleven. Logan grabs your waist and holds you up as he pounds into you.

"Gonna fill your fucking ass , such a dirty girl having two men's cum dripping out of you. He growls. You sigh happily as you dig your nails into Logan's arms. Logan moans, tilting his head back as he comes deep in your ass.

"Fuck!" Eddie hisses as Logans claws come out. One of them catching his side. You look up and gasp as you see a small amount of blood seep down onto the sheets.

"Are you okay?" You gently trace around the cut, worried that Eddie would freak out. Instead he just smiles and cups your face.

"Don't worry about me baby, I can handle a little pain." He says with a wink. He kisses your forehead as Logan reluctantly pulls out.

"You okay?" Logan checks on you first and once you give him the okay he turns his attention to Eddie.

"Sorry about that." He does feel a little bad for hurting him. Logan disappears into bathroom for a towel. Cleaning up you and Eddie as you melt into Eddies bed.

"Just give me ten minutes." You groan as your body starts to ache. The aftermath with Logan is always brutal on your body but after Logan and Eddie? You need ample recovery time.

"You guys can stay here if you want." Eddie offers and Logan raises an eyebrow.

"Just for tonight old man." Logan takes one look at you and you're already asleep.

"Just the night." Logan crawls in next to you.

Eddie's bed was a tight fit but somehow all three of you managed to fit. Eddie reaches over and grabs his lighter and cigarettes, offering one to Logan. Logan looks at it and Eddie chuckles.

"You don't smoke?"

"I do, just not these." Still Logan takes one and lets Eddie light it for him.

"So I'm never gonna see you guys again huh?" Eddie asks.

"Probably not. Not everyone is so...open to people like us." Logans arm rests protectively around you.

Eddie couldn't care less about mutants but had they picked the wrong person, who knows how the night could have gone.

"I get it." There's a silence between the two men.

Eddie liked you and he liked Logan. He wouldn't mind having you guys around a little longer but this was just a one night thing. By the time he wakes up the next morning they're already gone. Just a note left by you thanking him for the night. Eddie sighs as he cleans up the remnants of last night, catching a glimpse of the cut in his mirror.

It scars but that's okay. It's forever a reminder of that night.

[beauty-funny-trippy]

Reasons why we know there's something wrong with Grandpa:

• believes immigrants are eating their neighbors pets because he heard someone say it on TV (without any evidence) • thinks injecting disinfectant into our veins might be a good idea. (It's definitely not, don't try it.) • claims America's F35 fighter jet is completely invisible, even if you're right next to it (like Wonder Woman's plane)

• praises white supremacists and KKK members who were chanting antisemitic hate speech, calling them "very fine people" • focuses on imaginary issues like preventing children from changing gender while at school, but ignores real problems like school shootings • thought it was a good idea to give away our desperately needed Covid test machines to our adversary ("Grandpa, what have you done?" — he can't be left alone for a minute) • decided to believe Putin's lies, but dismiss findings from America's intelligence agencies • claims America had airplanes during the Revolutionary War

• believes in the Nazi ideology that immigrants are "poisoning the blood of our country," and says some migrants are actually subhuman "animals" • insisted that the U.S. would have fewer coronavirus cases if it conducted less testing (yes, a U.S. president in charge of controlling the crisis, actually said something this inept, repeatedly) • due to his incompetence and lies during the Covid crisis, the U.S. had one of the highest rates of Covid deaths in the world • thinks windmills cause cancer and kill whales • speaks endlessly about his concerns re: dying by electrocution from a boat battery or being eaten by a shark

• thinks he's above the law and, as president, should be able to commit as many crimes as he wants • is a billionaire who whines about how badly he's been treated, then he's chauffeured to his private jet • likes to discuss Arnold Palmer's penis • after NINE years of repeatedly promising to unveil his Healthcare Plan "very soon," he admits he still has no real plan —only "concepts of a plan" • has a bizarre attraction to the fictional cannibal and serial killer, Hannibal Lector (why? no one knows —and everyone's afraid to ask)

• advocates dangerous plots, like using the military against Americans who disagree with him, or using the DOJ to arrest them, or just telling people to "beat the crap out of them" and he'll pay their legal fees • thinks having a national day of violence is a good idea (we should never have let Grandpa watch "The Purge") • wants to be the "law and order president," yet this 34 time convicted felon incites people to riot and to commit criminal acts of violence • unable to take the loss of an election like a man, he had a temper tantrum like a toddler, that culminated in a treasonous insurrection

⠀This guy is so delusional, he claims he's a genius because he often speaks incoherently in something he calls "the Weave." Here are two examples: • "How disgusted were all when we see all of us are when we see three days ago when we viewed their parade." Asheboro, NC, 8/21/24 • When asked, "What specific legislation will you commit to, to make child care affordable?" He responded, “Well, I would do that, and we’re sitting down, you know; I was, somebody, we had Senator Marco Rubio and my daughter, Ivanka, who was so impactful on that issue. ...But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about that because the childcare is childcare, couldn’t, you know, there’s something you have to have it, in this country you have to have it.” New York, NY, 9/5/24 ⠀If this was anybody else's Grandpa, the family would be having discussions about who's going to go with Grandpa to the doctor to find out what's wrong with him, and who's going to be in charge of finding him a nice convalescent home to live in. ⠀My suggestion is that it might be a good idea to elect a president who has no cognitive impairment and can tell the difference between reality and delusions. Personally, I think that's a rather important quality in a president.