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alllgator-blood · 1 day ago
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'THE UNPAYABLE DEBT THAT I OWE YOU'
(part 5/5)
Congratulations! Congratulations!! Congratulations, kallamar!!!
Your day off shall consist of your sleep deprived brain making you believe that the last 100 years were an elaborate prank devised by satan himself, rather than your irl family being disappointed in you for not living up to ungodly high expectations.
I have my rescheduled spinal procedure coming up on friday so I'm not gonna be able to draw for a short period, but there's some REALLY good asks in my inbox about this comic so I'll see if I can do those before the big day. Every time I do a big angst comic I'm kinda blown away by the response, I keep saying it but genuinely it means the world to me when I see people giving their thoughts on my art like this. For this specific comic I've gotten multiple asks, tons of comments/tags, a couple drawings and even a short fic??? Like I lose the ability to speak I get so flustered. I love these characters a lot so I'm just happy I can make something of them that resonates so much with people.
Kallamar is definitely getting a rest from angst after this, idk when I'll be up for another one of these long ones but you guys will know cause I'll put up a poll again >:)
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mcrdvcks · 2 days ago
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i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1973 - we meet again my dear...
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chapter summary: After leaving Team X behind, Logan finds himself back in New York City working as a bodyguard for various people. Until he finds himself acting as a bodyguard for you, a mobster's daughter.
word count: 18.3k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: i'm a sucker for the bodyguard trope (and also just dofp logan in general, that man makes me go feral), so you know i had to do it when given the chance! i had so much fun writing this version of reader, especially because this is the closest to 'modern' times that we've gotten and i didn't have to do a ton of research about this year. the tags might give away a little bit of the plot, but i promise it's gonna be a fun ride ;)
warnings/tags: fluff, angst, 70s!logan, mafia/mob, implied age gap, flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected piv, creampie, arranged marriage
series masterlist - chapter 4 → chapter 6
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He left Stryker, Victor, and Team X behind, settling in New York City as a bodyguard, hired by various people: politicians, the mafia, anyone.
Logan was now getting his fifth job, protecting a mobster’s young daughter.
He was used to jobs like this by now, but something about this one felt... different. As he walked through the large estate, the details blurred around him. His focus was on the job—until the moment he saw you.
You were standing by the window, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your face. There was something familiar about the way you held yourself, the way your hair fell over your shoulders. For a second, it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.
Logan’s chest tightened.
It was you.
Same face. Same presence. Same pull that had haunted him for over a century.
But you were different, too. This time, you weren’t a schoolteacher, a nurse, or a coal miner’s wife. You were his new job.
You turned, eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment, it felt like you recognized him too. That sense of familiarity flickered across your face before you smiled—polite, but distant.
“Y/N, this is Logan,” the mobster—your father—introduced. “He’ll be your new bodyguard.”
Your father’s voice faded into the background as Logan’s gaze remained locked on you. You gave a small nod, extending your hand. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”
Logan stared at your hand for a beat too long before taking it. That brief contact sent a shock through him, an old memory he couldn’t quite shake.
“Likewise,” he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.
Your father clapped Logan on the back. “I expect you’ll keep her safe. There’s been some... tension with a rival family.”
Logan only nodded, but his attention stayed on you. You were right in front of him, alive. But you didn’t know him. Like always.
After your father left the room, you leaned against the window frame, crossing your arms. “So, how long have you been doing this?” you asked, your tone casual.
Logan leaned against the wall, watching you closely. “Long enough.”
You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “That’s vague.”
He didn’t respond, and for a moment, silence settled between you two. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something unsaid hanging in the air.
“What about you?” Logan asked, more to fill the space than out of curiosity. “How do you feel about having a bodyguard?”
You shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”
That earned a faint, almost imperceptible smile from Logan, but he quickly covered it with a grunt. “Glad to hear it.”
A pause. Then you looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, like you were trying to figure him out. “You seem... familiar.”
Logan stiffened. “Don’t think we’ve met before.”
You tilted your head, studying him. “No, but... I don’t know. Something about you.”
Logan’s heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. He couldn’t tell you. Not about the past lives, not about how many times he had watched you die.
You shrugged it off, smiling again. “Maybe I’m just imagining things.”
“Maybe,” Logan muttered, not meeting your eyes this time.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions, schedules, and instructions from your father. Logan followed at a distance, keeping an eye on you, but his mind was elsewhere.
That night, Logan sat on the balcony just outside your room, staring out at the city lights. His thoughts raced, the weight of the engagement ring in his pocket feeling heavier than usual.
You were alive. Again.
But for how long this time?
---
You plopped onto your bed, the wire from your rotary phone stretching with you, “he is good looking though.”
You could practically hear Jennifer’s grin through the phone, “oh, yeah? Man, all your bodyguards are good looking. It’s not fair!”
You laughed, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. "He’s… different though. I can’t quite put my finger on it. He’s quiet, but not in the usual 'I’m-paid-to-watch-you' way."
"Is he mysterious?" Jennifer teased, her voice light. "Maybe he’s got some dark, brooding backstory. Mob families always hire guys like that—‘strong and silent.’"
You snorted. "Maybe. But he’s not like the others." You hesitated, leaning back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. “There’s something familiar about him… like I’ve met him before.”
Jennifer paused on the other end of the line, then her voice softened. "You think he’s one of your dad’s guys from back in the day?"
You shook your head, even though she couldn’t see it. "No, it’s not that. It’s… weird, Jen. Like I know him, but I don’t. It’s been bugging me since I met him."
"Maybe it’s fate," she joked, but her tone had a hint of seriousness. "You’ve been going through bodyguards like they’re tissues. Maybe this one’s here to stick around."
You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Fate? You’ve been reading too many romance novels."
"Hey, a girl can dream!" Jennifer laughed. "But seriously, if you feel something, maybe it’s worth looking into. He’s hot, right?"
You smiled at that, though your thoughts wandered back to Logan. The way his eyes lingered on you, like he was seeing something no one else could. "Yeah," you admitted softly. "He’s definitely that. He’s probably as old as my dad or somethin’. But man, Jen, if you saw him you’d lose your mind.”
You twirled the phone cord around your finger, still smiling to yourself, but your thoughts kept circling back to Logan. Something about the way he looked at you—like he knew more than he was saying—stuck with you. It wasn’t creepy or overprotective. It was... familiar. Comforting, even.
Jennifer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Hey, don’t overthink it, okay? Enjoy the view for once. Not everyone gets a hot bodyguard with a mysterious vibe. Maybe he’s the silver lining to your dad’s whole ‘paranoia’ problem.”
You laughed quietly. “Yeah, maybe.”
You hung up not long after, still feeling the weight of that odd, lingering sense of déjà vu.
---
The next morning, Logan was waiting for you downstairs. Dressed in his usual dark clothes, he stood near the front door with his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but alert. His eyes flicked toward you the second you entered the room.
There it was again—that heavy gaze that made it feel like he could see right through you.
“Mornin’,” you said, offering a small smile.
“Mornin’,” Logan replied, his voice gravelly.
Your father wasn’t home—out dealing with ‘business’—which gave you a rare moment to yourself. Well, mostly. You slipped on your leather jacket and glanced at Logan, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin. “What’s the plan, bodyguard? Gonna follow me around all day?”
Logan grunted, something close to amusement flashing in his eyes. “That’s the job.”
“You always this chatty?”
“Only when I meet interesting people.” His tone was dry, but there was the faintest flicker of a smile beneath it.
You snorted, heading for the door. “C’mon, hope you like running errands.”
Logan followed without complaint, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the car. The streets were quieter than usual, but the tension between rival families was palpable—something was brewing, and everyone knew it.
Still, Logan’s presence made you feel... safer. Like nothing bad could happen as long as he was there. It was strange. You barely knew him, but being around him felt easy. Natural. Like you’d known him for a lot longer than a day.
---
When you said you were going to run ‘errands,’ Logan hadn’t expected you to walk straight into an animal shelter. He followed you through the entrance, nodding politely at the woman at the front desk as you greeted her like an old friend.
“Morning, Lorraine!” you said with a bright smile.
Lorraine, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, smiled back. “There’s my favorite troublemaker. The pups will be glad to see you.” She cast a curious glance at Logan. “And who’s this?”
“My latest babysitter,” you said with a smirk, glancing at Logan. “Logan, meet Lorraine. Lorraine, Logan.”
Logan gave a curt nod. “Ma’am.”
Lorraine chuckled. “A man of few words. I like him already.” She waved you both toward the back. “Go on, they’ve been waiting for you.”
As soon as you walked past the front desk and entered the back area, the sound of excited barking filled the air. Dogs of all sizes pressed their noses against the bars of their cages, tails wagging furiously at the sight of you.
You crouched down in front of one of the kennels, talking softly to a scruffy little mutt as it whined and pawed at the bars. “Hey, buddy. Miss me?”
Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the way you scratched behind the dog's ears. There was something easy about the way you moved here, something soft. For a mobster’s kid, you had a surprisingly gentle touch.
"Didn't expect this to be part of the job," Logan muttered after a moment, his voice low but teasing.
You glanced up, grinning. "What, thought I’d be shopping for fur coats or shaking people down for cash?"
Logan raised a brow. "Somethin’ like that."
You laughed, standing up and dusting your hands off. “Sorry to disappoint. I’ve got a weakness for strays.” You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of treats, tossing some into the kennels. "These guys have it rough enough without me skipping out on them."
Logan watched as the dogs practically fought over the treats, barking happily at your attention. You moved from cage to cage, giving each dog a little affection. It was... unexpected.
Logan watched you toss the last treat into one of the kennels, the scruffy mutt practically vibrating with happiness. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, an amused glint in his eyes as you turned and dusted your hands off with a grin.
"You’re full of surprises," Logan muttered.
You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you folded your arms. “Oh, yeah? Disappointed?”
"Not exactly." His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile.
You took a step closer, tilting your head. "Well, what did you expect?"
Logan shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "Spoiled. Entitled. Maybe a little dangerous."
You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Logan’s chest tightened in a way that felt too familiar. "Dangerous, huh? Guess I’ve got some layers." You gave him a playful once-over. "What about you? Big, scary bodyguard with a brooding vibe. Got any surprises I should know about?"
Logan snorted. "Not really."
You narrowed your eyes like you didn’t quite believe him, but instead of pressing, you motioned toward the door. "C’mon. I’ve got one more stop."
Logan fell into step beside you as you exited the shelter and made your way toward the car. You chatted casually, filling the silence with stories about your favorite dogs at the shelter. But Logan stayed mostly quiet, his mind racing. It wasn’t just your voice—it was you. The way you carried yourself, the way you teased him like it was second nature.
He stole a glance at you as you drove. God, it felt the same as always. Like gravity pulled him toward you whether he wanted it or not.
---
Logan should’ve expected the second time around that you weren’t taking him to a normal place for errands. He was even more surprised when you parked in a nursing home parking lot and got out with that same pep in your step.
The sliding doors opened as you walked up to the front counter, where a middle-aged woman with tired eyes peered over the top of a blocky computer monitor. Her name tag read Carol.
“Morning, Carol,” you chirped with an easy smile, tapping your fingers on the desk.
Carol looked up and brightened at the sight of you. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite visitor. Here to cheer up the old-timers again?”
“Always,” you said, flashing a grin. “And I brought backup today.” You gestured behind you to Logan, who gave a brief nod.
Carol gave him a once-over and arched an eyebrow. “Well now, you didn’t tell me you’d be bringing a tall drink of water.”
You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at Logan. “Yeah, figured I’d mix things up.”
Logan just grunted in response, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly—half amusement, half something else. Carol winked at you before waving toward the hallway. “You know where to find them.”
You led Logan down the hall, your steps light and familiar as if you'd been coming here for years. He followed quietly, his sharp gaze flicking between doorways and hallways, always alert.
“You spend a lot of time here?” Logan asked as you slowed near a door marked Activity Room.
You shrugged. “Yeah. Most of these folks don’t get many visitors. It’s nice to stop by and remind them they’re not forgotten.”
Logan gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. It was such a simple thing—volunteering at a nursing home—but it hit him hard. It was just like you to find the overlooked parts of the world and give them your attention, like the dogs at the shelter, like the people here. You always had that streak of kindness, no matter which life you were living.
You nudged open the door, stepping into the room. A group of residents sat in mismatched chairs, some knitting, others half-watching a daytime soap on an old television. At the sight of you, faces lit up.
“There she is!” one of the older women called, setting her knitting aside with a delighted clap of her hands. “I thought you forgot about us!”
“As if I ever could,” you replied warmly, walking over to give her a light hug.
Logan lingered near the doorway, watching as you moved through the room like you belonged there, chatting with each resident, asking about their week, their families—if they remembered them. His heart twisted, both with admiration and an ache that wouldn’t quit.
You noticed him standing off to the side and shot him a teasing grin. “Don’t be shy, Logan. They won’t bite.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Not worried about them.”
You laughed, turning back to an older man with a deck of cards spread out in front of him. “Logan, meet Mr. Russo. He’s got a mean poker face.”
Mr. Russo gave Logan a once-over, then grinned, his false teeth gleaming. “You any good at cards, tough guy?”
Logan shrugged. “I can hold my own.”
You slid into the chair beside Mr. Russo, motioning for Logan to join you. “Care to test your luck?”
Logan hesitated for only a moment before pulling out a chair, the legs scraping against the linoleum. As he sat down, you dealt him a hand, your fingers brushing his in the process—a fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt of familiarity through both of you.
You caught Logan’s gaze over the cards, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. There it was again—that sense that you knew him somehow, though you couldn’t quite place it. It nagged at you, but you let it pass, offering him a playful smirk instead.
“Careful,” you warned. “I don’t go easy on anyone.”
Logan returned the smirk, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “Neither do I.”
---
After the game, which you won—barely, you said your goodbyes to the residents, promising to visit again soon. Logan followed silently as you made your way back to the car, the soft clinking of your keys the only sound between you.
“Not what you expected for today, huh?” you asked as you slid into the driver’s seat.
Logan leaned against the car door, arms crossed. “Not exactly.”
You smiled, starting the engine. “Bet you thought being a mobster’s kid would be more... glamorous.”
“Something like that.” He gave you a sidelong glance. “You like keeping people guessing, don’t you?”
You grinned, shifting the car into drive. “It’s one of my many talents.”
The two of you drove in companionable silence, the hum of the city filling the space between you. Logan rested his elbow on the window frame, glancing at you every so often. You were like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve—different from the others, yet still unmistakably you.
“Why do you do it?” he asked after a while. “The shelter, the nursing home. You don’t have to.”
You shrugged, your expression thoughtful. "Dunno. Just because I was born into this life doesn’t mean I like what my dad does. I guess sometimes I feel like I’m tryin’ to balance the scales."
Logan leaned back against the seat, his sharp gaze on you, but he didn’t respond right away. You could tell he was chewing on that—probably picking apart your words, trying to figure you out. He always seemed like the kind of man who noticed everything, even if he didn’t say much about it.
You flashed him a teasing grin, trying to lighten the mood. "What about you? Any skeletons in the closet? Or are you just a man of mystery with perfect timing?"
Logan snorted softly, his lips twitching in that almost-smile he had. "I’m no mystery. Just do my job."
"Oh, come on," you pressed, throwing him a playful look. "You gotta give me something. Favorite food? Ever been married? Deep, dark secret?"
He gave you a sidelong glance, amused but guarded. "Steak. No. And not a chance."
You huffed in mock disappointment, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. "You’re no fun, Logan."
"Never said I was," he muttered, but there was warmth in his tone, like he didn’t mind your teasing at all.
The conversation paused for a moment, the soft hum of the engine filling the space between you. Logan’s eyes lingered on you a little longer than they probably should have—taking in the curve of your smile, the way your fingers tapped a rhythm on the wheel.
And damn, if you didn’t make it hard to stay detached. You were so... alive. Every glance, every smile, every little laugh. You carried yourself like someone who knew how fleeting things could be—and even though Logan knew you couldn’t remember, he remembered every time you’d slipped through his fingers. That thought settled heavy in his chest, like a weight he carried everywhere.
You shot him a grin. "You know, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna think you’re interested."
Logan’s lips twitched. "What makes you think I’m not?"
The boldness of his response caught you off guard for a second, but you recovered quickly, leaning a little closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, tough guy. You’re supposed to be protecting me, not flirting with me."
"Who says I can’t do both?" His voice was low, rough, and it sent a small shiver down your spine.
You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. "I think my dad might disagree."
Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, though his expression didn’t change. "Your dad’s not here."
There it was—that pull again, the quiet, unspoken gravity between the two of you. It was like standing on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling all at once. You felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the weight of his words. He wasn’t just playing along.
You cleared your throat, breaking the tension with a teasing smile. "Well, if you’re planning on making a move, Logan, you better make it good. I’ve got high standards, y’know."
Logan let out a low chuckle—quiet, but genuine—and for a moment, you thought you saw something softer in his eyes. Something like... affection.
But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that familiar guarded expression.
"Noted," he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the road ahead.
You grinned, satisfied that you’d managed to chip away at his walls, even if only a little.
---
The two of you finished your errands without any trouble, stopping by a grocery store for some essentials and grabbing a late lunch at a small diner tucked away from the main streets. It wasn’t much—just burgers and fries—but sitting across from Logan in the booth, you felt surprisingly content.
He was quiet most of the time, but not in a way that felt awkward. It was... comfortable. Like he didn’t need to fill the silence just for the sake of it. And every now and then, he’d throw out a dry, sarcastic comment that made you laugh harder than you expected.
You leaned back in the booth, sipping your soda and watching him over the rim of your glass. "Y’know, Logan... you’re not half as scary as you look."
Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Disappointed?"
"Not at all," you replied, your smile turning a little softer. "I like surprises."
He held your gaze for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind those sharp blue eyes. And for a second—just a second—you thought maybe, just maybe, there was something familiar about the way he looked at you. Like you were more than just a job to him.
But before you could dwell on it, Logan glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. "We should head back. Your old man’ll be expecting you."
You sighed dramatically, sliding out of the booth. "Guess my fun’s over."
Logan chuckled, tossing a few bills on the table for the check. "For now."
You gave him a playful nudge as you walked past him toward the door. "Don’t sound too excited."
---
By the time you got back to the house, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting the streets in a soft orange glow. Logan followed you inside, his quiet presence grounding you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
"Thanks for today," you said, tossing your jacket onto a chair.
Logan gave a small nod, leaning against the wall near the door. "No problem."
You hesitated for a moment, then shot him one last grin. "You know, you’re not as bad as I thought."
"Same to you," he replied, that almost-smile creeping back onto his face.
And just like that, the unspoken connection between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting.
Maybe Logan was right. Maybe your dad would be pissed if he knew how much you enjoyed your new bodyguard’s company.
But standing there, watching Logan’s gaze linger on you for just a beat too long, you found you didn’t care all that much.
"Goodnight, Logan," you said softly, turning toward the stairs.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, his voice low and steady.
And as you climbed the stairs, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the first time you’d said goodnight to him like this.
Not by a long shot.
---
Your dad told you not to leave the house today, which was fine by you, you had laundry to do anyways.
It had become habit to do your own laundry, even if you did have maids around the house. Nancy, one of the older maids, was the one to teach you that, along with cooking and cleaning since your mother has been gone since you were little.
You had a radio set on the washer, the familiar croon of 70s tunes filling the small laundry room as you pulled warm clothes from the dryer into a basket. You’d been at it for the better part of the morning, the simple domestic task giving you a sense of normalcy. The soft hum of the machines, the crackling radio, and the scent of clean laundry— it was all routine.
Routine helped keep your mind off the storm brewing outside your little bubble.
You sighed, swaying your hips a bit to the music as you lifted the basket. The house felt quieter today, with your dad off dealing with ‘business’ as usual. And Logan? He was somewhere nearby, probably lurking in the shadows like the brooding protector he was.
As if on cue, Logan appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He was dressed in his usual dark clothing, looking as stoic as ever. You wondered if he ever wore anything other than flannels and a leather jacket.
"You know, I didn’t take you for the laundry-doing type," he remarked, his gravelly voice cutting through the music.
You raised an eyebrow, throwing a playful glance over your shoulder. "What, you think I’m too spoiled to do my own chores?"
Logan's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Something like that."
You smirked, grabbing the laundry basket and turning to face him. "I like to surprise people."
"You’re good at it," he replied, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. There was something behind those eyes, something deeper, but as always, he kept it hidden beneath that calm, impenetrable exterior.
You tilted your head, leaning your hip against the dryer. "You sticking around or just checking on me?"
Logan shrugged, though his eyes never left yours. "Just making sure you're not running off anywhere. Your dad was pretty clear about staying put."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips softened the gesture. "I’ll be a good girl. Promise."
Logan grunted in response, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer. "You’re a lot of things, Y/N. Not sure ‘good girl’ is one of them."
You let out a laugh, swatting at him with a towel. "Hey, I can behave when I want to. It’s just more fun not to."
He caught your wrist with ease, holding it for a second too long before letting go. There was that familiar tension between you again, the unspoken something that crackled in the air whenever the two of you were close. He probably didn't mean to linger, but you could feel it—that pull.
"Maybe it’s the company," you teased, grabbing your laundry basket. "You bring out the best in me."
Logan didn’t respond immediately, but there was something in his eyes, something that made your breath hitch. He was quiet, but not in the usual way bodyguards were. With Logan, there was a weight to his silence, like he was always holding back, always watching.
You pushed past the lingering tension with a grin, heading toward the door with your laundry. "Come on, broody. Let’s get out of the laundry room before we both go stir-crazy."
As you passed by, you brushed against him—just lightly, but enough to send a small jolt through you. He didn’t move, but his eyes followed your every step, that silent intensity never wavering.
You stopped in the hallway and shot him a look over your shoulder. “You’re making this way too serious, you know. I’m doing laundry, not sneaking out of prison.”
“Old habits die hard,” he replied, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. “Besides, I think your dad’s idea of ‘safe’ is pretty different from yours.”
You rolled your eyes, hugging the laundry basket closer. “Right. Next, he’ll say I need an escort to the mailbox.”
Logan raised a brow, clearly amused. “You wouldn’t be the first.”
That earned him a laugh, and you shook your head, settling the basket on the table in the hall. “Guess you’re stuck with me then, bodyguard.”
“Doesn’t seem so bad,” he said, his voice softening as he glanced at you. His gaze was familiar in a way you couldn’t place, like he’d looked at you this way a hundred times before.
“Yeah?” You took a step closer, crossing your arms with a playful grin. “And here I thought I’d be driving you crazy.”
“You do,” he murmured, almost too quietly. His lips turned up slightly, but he looked away, that unspoken wall going back up.
“Good,” you teased, reaching out to poke him in the chest. “Keeps things interesting.”
Logan caught your hand before you could pull it back, holding it just long enough that you could feel the warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in it. There was something in his eyes that hinted at… more. Like he’d known you far longer than you could’ve ever guessed.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart thumped, but you kept your tone light. “Depends on what you’re offering, doesn’t it?”
His gaze dropped to your hand, still caught in his. He let go, but there was something in his expression that lingered. It was like he was searching for the right words, something he couldn’t quite say. Or maybe didn’t want to.
Instead, he settled back with that guarded look. “Better get used to me being around,” he said, nodding toward the front of the house. “Your dad won’t have it any other way.”
You glanced down the hall and shrugged. “Guess I can live with that. For now.”
Logan’s lips twitched, just barely. “For now,” he echoed, and there was something heavier in those words, something he wasn’t sharing.
You lingered for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before you picked up the basket again. “Well, I’ve got more laundry to fold. But if you feel like helping out…”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nice try, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes, shooting him a wink. “Fine. I’ll let you off easy this time.”
“Appreciate it,” he said with a smirk, but his eyes softened as he watched you turn to go, like he was holding back something he couldn’t quite name.
As you walked away, the light-heartedness of the moment stayed with you, but so did something else. It was that look Logan had, the one that made you feel seen, like he knew you better than anyone else ever had.
Maybe he did.
Or maybe, in some impossible way, he always had.
---
“No, no, no, cara. Give it to me.” Nancy took the mixing bowl away from you, stirring the batter while muttering something in Italian.
You leaned your hip against the counter, placing your head on Nancy’s shoulder with a pout. "I was doing what you’re doing.”
Nancy shook her head, stirring the batter with a practiced hand, her warm, familiar presence comforting. “No, cara mia, you were doing what you think I’m doing.” She shot you a look, one of those fond, chiding glances she’d perfected over the years. “And it was not the same.”
You laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Fine, but you’re teaching me bad habits. This is how I stay spoiled, you know.”
She chuckled, patting your cheek affectionately. “You think you need me to be spoiled? You do just fine on your own.”
Before you could respond, Logan’s familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, watching you with a slight smirk that was becoming all too familiar—and endearing.
“Careful, Nancy,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “She’s already hard enough to handle.”
You turned, hands on your hips, feigning offense. “Excuse me, hard to handle?”
Logan shrugged, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You said it, not me.”
Nancy chuckled, eyes sparkling as she looked between you and Logan. “Ah, Y/N, he’s right. You do have a little spirit.”
You scoffed playfully, giving Logan an exaggerated glare before grinning back at Nancy. “What? I’m an angel, and you know it.”
Logan snorted, clearly enjoying himself. “Right. A real saint.” He gave you a knowing look, one that made your stomach flip despite yourself. That unspoken energy simmered between you two, even as you tried to keep it casual.
Nancy just shook her head, muttering something in Italian as she set the bowl down. “Angels don’t cause so much trouble,” she teased, pinching your cheek. “I taught you better.”
You rubbed your cheek with a grin, leaning back against the counter. “I’m blaming Logan. His bad influence must be rubbing off on me.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “That right? Thought you didn’t need any help there.”
“Oh, I don’t,” you said, crossing your arms with a challenging look. “I’m fully capable of trouble on my own.”
Nancy watched the two of you with a satisfied smile, turning back to her baking. “Ah, I see,” she murmured, her voice light. “It’s good to have someone who knows how to keep you in check.”
The glint in her eye wasn’t lost on you, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re making it sound like I’m some kind of wild child.”
“No, no,” she replied with a grin, waving her hand. “Just that I think he knows you better than you think, cara.”
Logan’s gaze softened a little at that, and though he didn’t say anything, his look lingered, as if he were silently agreeing with her.
You cleared your throat, feeling the familiar warmth creeping up your neck. “Well,” you started, trying to brush off the moment, “if Logan’s going to stick around, he might as well help.”
Nancy gave a sly smile, turning to Logan. “What do you say, Logan? A little kitchen work wouldn’t hurt.”
Logan shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender. “You two are doing just fine without me.”
You shot him a grin, taking a step closer. “Oh, come on. Big, tough Logan afraid of a little flour?”
His smirk softened as he looked down at you. “You keep pushing, and I might just teach you a lesson in troublemaking.”
Your stomach fluttered at the way his gaze stayed locked on yours, that familiar pull tugging you closer. “Is that a threat?”
“Call it… a warning,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand brushed against yours, just for a second, but it was enough to send a spark up your arm.
Nancy cleared her throat, clearly amused. “Okay, okay. I don’t need you two making a mess of my kitchen.”
You stepped back, giving Nancy a sheepish smile, and Logan chuckled, the sound low and easy. “She’s right,” he said, nodding toward the door. “Guess I’ll just keep an eye on you from a safe distance.”
Nancy gave him a knowing look, shaking her head with a chuckle. “If only it were that simple.”
---
“Ah, stay still, cara.” Nancy chided you, taking out a roller from your hair.
You gave Nancy a pout, eyes skimming your reflection in the mirror with clear discontent. "I don’t like it." Your voice held more weight than just the hair and makeup, though, and Nancy seemed to pick up on it.
She clicked her tongue, smoothing out a curl before looking at you through the mirror. “Ah, cara mia, tonight is important to your father. Besides,” she added, eyes glinting, “you look beautiful, yes?”
You gave her a half-hearted smile, brushing your hands over the bright yellow fabric of your dress. The dress was elegant and too formal for your taste, the kind of thing you’d never have chosen if it weren’t for your dad’s insistence on making you ‘presentable’ for his associates.
Nancy sighed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, it’s one night. Then you’ll be back to your regular clothes, hmm?”
You grinned, rolling your eyes. “Can’t come soon enough.”
Just as you were about to add more, there was a quiet knock at the door. You looked up, already expecting Logan’s familiar silhouette. He leaned against the frame, hands in his pockets, his usual air of calm doing little to hide the intense look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you in the dress.
“Looks like they’ve got you all dolled up,” he remarked, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
You shot him a look, half annoyed, half amused. “Yeah, laugh it up, tough guy. Bet you’re glad it’s not you in this thing.”
Logan chuckled, stepping further into the room. “You could say that.” His eyes met yours, and for a brief second, there was something in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite put into words. But just as quickly, he looked away.
Nancy gave you a knowing smile, patting your shoulder before stepping back. “Logan,” she said, with a gentle warning in her voice, “take care of her tonight, yes?”
Logan’s expression softened, his gaze turning protective as he looked at you. “Always do.”
Nancy winked, then left the room, leaving you alone with him.
You let out a sigh, reaching for the hem of your dress as if you could somehow make it less constricting. “Do I really have to go down there?”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “You think your dad’s throwing this party for fun? Whole point is for you to be seen.”
“Great,” you muttered, moving toward the door. But as you passed him, Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.
“You’ll be fine,” he said, his voice lower, more reassuring. “They’re not expecting anything from you. Just show up, smile, let them know you exist.”
You looked up at him, searching his face. He was steady, calm, his expression soft in a way he rarely let others see. You didn’t know why, but having him there made you feel a little more at ease. “Guess I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Nope,” he replied, his mouth twitching into that almost-smile.
With a resigned sigh, you squared your shoulders. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
---
The party was everything you’d dreaded: formal, suffocating, and filled with people whose only interest in you was as your father’s daughter. You’d stuck close to Logan most of the night, exchanging quiet remarks whenever the chance arose, his presence the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. But as the night wore on, a few glasses of champagne and the tension of the evening started to wear on you.
You tugged on Logan’s sleeve as you leaned in close. “Think anyone would notice if I snuck out?” you murmured, your breath warm against his ear.
Logan chuckled low, his gaze flickering over you. “Considering your dad’s been watching you like a hawk? Probably.”
You rolled your eyes, letting your hand brush his arm. “Figures. He can’t just let me have one night off.” You shifted closer, feeling his warmth through his jacket, and gave him a mischievous smile. “Bet you didn’t sign up for babysitting duty.”
“Didn’t realize you’d need it,” he replied with a smirk, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear.
You nudged him playfully, letting your hand linger on his arm. “I don’t,” you said, a little more insistently. “You just don’t know what to do with me.”
His eyes met yours, and there was something dark and unspoken in his gaze. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice dropping. “I might take you up on that.”
The hint of challenge in his tone sent a thrill through you, and you leaned closer, your hand settling on his chest as you whispered, “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
You could feel his heartbeat, steady beneath your hand, but his expression gave nothing away. He looked down at you, his jaw tight, but his eyes held that familiar intensity, the kind that had always made you wonder just how long he’d been watching you. It was intoxicating, that pull between you, and tonight, with the champagne loosening your guard, you felt bolder than usual.
When you finally pulled away, you could feel his gaze following you, but you didn’t let yourself look back. Instead, you mingled through the crowd, smiling politely, pretending to listen to conversations while stealing glances at Logan across the room.
After what felt like hours, your father’s attention finally shifted, and you took the chance to slip away to your bedroom.
As you walked up the stairs, Logan trailed behind you, like always. You were tired of this, of the flirting, how he did it back to you, but how nothing ever happened.
Well tonight you were done with that.
You opened your bedroom door and sat on the bed, quickly slipping off your heels and tossing them carelessly across the room. The muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filtered up from downstairs, where the party raged on. Logan stood in the doorway, as he always did, watching you in that silent, intense way that had been driving you crazy for months.
You looked up at him, your fingers playing with the hem of your short yellow dress, the fabric brushing against your thighs as you shifted on the bed. “You comin’ in, or are you just gonna stand there all night?”
Logan didn’t respond right away, his jaw ticking as his eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of you sitting there, legs crossed, your dress riding up just enough to tease. He sighed, stepping into the room but staying near the door. “Your old man’s got half the city downstairs, Y/N. This ain’t the time.”
You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Since when do you care about my dad? He’s not your boss.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking. “He pays me to keep you safe, not… this.”
You stood up from the bed, taking a step toward him. “This?” you repeated, voice playful, but you could feel the tension in the air thickening. “And what is ‘this,’ Logan?”
He didn’t answer, just stood there, his eyes dark and unreadable, but you could see the way his body tensed when you got closer, the way his gaze flicked down to your legs before snapping back up to your face.
You reached out, your fingers brushing against the rough material of his flannel, and you could feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric. He stiffened, his hand catching your wrist, but it wasn’t harsh. Just enough to stop you.
“Y/N, don’t,” he warned, his voice low, rough.
You tilted your head, stepping even closer until your body was almost pressed against his. “Why not?” you asked softly. “You’ve been following me around for months. Always there, always watching. What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” he muttered, but his grip on your wrist tightened just a little, like he was holding himself back. “You’re too young for this. I work for your dad.”
You pulled your wrist free, undeterred, your hand now resting against his chest. “I’m not a kid, Logan. And you don’t work for him—you work for me. You’ve been protecting me, haven’t you?”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
“Then what do you mean?” you shot back, moving even closer, your fingers trailing up to his shoulder, over the leather of his jacket. “You’ve been pulling away from me every time I get close, but you keep coming back.”
Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands hovering near your waist, as if he was afraid to touch you. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “And you know that.” You pressed a little harder, your lips just inches from his jaw, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “You don’t have to keep pretending like you don’t want this.”
His hands shot up to your shoulders, gripping you tightly, but he didn’t push you away this time. His breathing was heavier now, the muscles in his arms tensing as if he was fighting against himself. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Maybe not,” you admitted, your lips brushing the stubble on his jaw as you spoke. “But I know what I want.”
Logan groaned low in his throat, his fingers tightening on your shoulders, but still, he didn’t push you away. His resistance was crumbling, you could feel it.
“You’re not a kid,” he repeated quietly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.
“No,” you whispered back, your lips ghosting along the side of his neck, your hands moving to his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not.”
In a swift movement, you pushed him back toward the chair in the corner of the room, his legs hitting the edge as you guided him down. He sat heavily, his hands falling from your shoulders to your hips, still trying to hold onto that last bit of control.
You straddled his thigh, your dress riding up as you settled against him, the heat of your body pressed against the denim of his jeans. His hands moved up to your waist, holding you in place, but the look in his eyes told you he was barely holding on.
“Y/N,” he rasped, but his voice was shaky, uncertain.
You didn’t give him time to think. You started moving, rocking your hips against his thigh, slow at first, testing. His grip on your waist tightened, his eyes darkening as he watched you, the tension in his body radiating through his hands.
He wasn’t stopping you.
You bit your lip, your breath hitching as you pressed harder against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through you. Logan groaned, his hands sliding down to your hips, holding you steady as you moved. His control was slipping, and you could feel it.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his head falling back against the chair, his eyes squeezed shut.
You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear. “Still think I’m too young?”
Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands gripping you harder as you rocked against him, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the thin material of your underwear. Every movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, and you could tell from the way his breathing quickened that he was feeling it too.
His hands slid up your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he tried to pull you closer, but you were in control now. You pressed your lips to his neck, kissing the exposed skin, feeling the tension in his body as you kissed down toward his collarbone, your fingers tangling in his shirt.
Logan groaned, his hands gripping you tighter as you moved faster, grinding against his thigh with more urgency. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable now, the pressure building with every movement, every gasp that escaped your lips.
Logan's eyes were shut tight, head thrown back against the chair, his hands gripping your waist like he was the one trying to stay grounded. But you weren’t stopping, not after all the months of back-and-forth, all the moments you’d caught him watching you with that dark, unreadable look. The friction, the heat pooling between your legs, was everything you’d been waiting for, and it was clear from the roughness of his breathing that he wasn’t far behind.
You pressed harder, your hips rolling against his thigh as you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. The thin fabric of your dress had ridden up, and you knew he could feel just how soaked you were through the denim of his jeans. His hands were at your waist, digging into your skin in a way that bordered on painful but only made you push down harder, rocking your hips with more insistence.
Logan’s voice was rough when he finally spoke, his hands tightening as if he was trying to keep himself from pulling you in closer. “Y/N… you’re playin’ with fire here,” he growled, the words thick, like he was barely holding back.
You ignored him, pressing a little harder, your lips hovering just over the edge of his jaw as you breathed, “Maybe I like the heat.”
His jaw clenched, but his hands slid up, settling just under your ribs, holding you steady as you moved. Each shift of your hips brought another groan out of him, the sound vibrating through his chest and sending a thrill straight through you. You could feel yourself getting closer, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the pressure built, the heat between your legs almost too much to bear.
“Logan,” you whispered, your hands slipping up to tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer. You could see the restraint etched across his face, the way his jaw was clenched tight, like he was struggling to keep himself from giving in. “I need you.”
His hands tensed on your waist, fingers digging in harder, his breathing growing rougher with every word that slipped from your lips. But he didn’t pull away; if anything, he held you tighter, letting you grind against him, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you in a way that left you breathless, desperate.
“You know what you’re doin’ to me?” he muttered, his voice barely more than a growl as his eyes met yours, dark and full of something you’d been longing to see for months.
“Maybe,” you replied, a small, breathless smile tugging at your lips as you kept moving, kept pressing closer, feeling the tension between you both thicken until it was almost unbearable. “Maybe I want to see how far you’ll let me go.”
Logan groaned, his grip tightening as his eyes fell shut again, his hands shifting to guide your hips, helping you keep up the steady rhythm that was driving you both closer to the edge. You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against his neck, pressing soft kisses along the exposed skin as you rocked against him, the heat building with every second.
“Y/N,” he rasped, his voice so low it sent a shiver through you. “You’re… you’re so damn—”
You cut him off, pressing your lips to the spot just under his ear, feeling the way his breath hitched as your hips ground down harder. You were close, every nerve ending on fire, and you could feel that he was, too. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your back, pressing you closer, holding you tight like he was afraid to let go.
And then, finally, the pressure broke. You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as your hips stilled, your body shuddering against him. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened, his own breath hitching as he held you steady, his hands warm and solid as you rode out the waves of pleasure.
He was quiet for a long moment, his breathing heavy, and you could feel the way his body had tensed beneath you, the strain in his hands as he held himself back. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch all over again.
Without a word, Logan shifted, his hands sliding down to hook under your thighs as he stood, lifting you with a strength that sent another thrill through you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he carried you to the bed, the heat in his gaze leaving no room for second thoughts, no hesitation. This was it, and you were ready.
He laid you down, his hands lingering on your thighs, his fingers brushing over your skin as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of hunger and restraint. You reached up, tugging him closer until he was hovering over you, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel secure, safe.
This was what you’d been waiting for, what you’d both been skirting around for too long. Logan’s hands slid up your sides, his fingers trailing along the fabric of your dress, and you felt your breath hitch as his gaze darkened, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
His thumbs brushed the exposed skin just above the low neckline of your dress, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You watched him, eyes locked on his as he leaned in, his jaw tight, the hunger in his gaze barely restrained. The room felt smaller, warmer, like the air had thickened between you.
And then, finally, his mouth was on yours.
The kiss was desperate, wild, like he was making up for lost time. His lips claimed yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the distance. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging him down harder.
It had been seventy-three years since he’d last kissed you—nearly three quarters of a century of holding back—and the intensity of it showed. It was all-consuming, like he was trying to make up for every second he’d denied himself this.
Logan groaned into your mouth, a deep, almost pained sound, and the desperation in it made your blood race. He kissed you like he was starving, like he needed this, needed you, and you felt your body melt into him. His hands slid down your body, rough and sure, stopping at your hips to pull you flush against him. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, and the friction of his jeans against your thighs only made it worse.
You broke the kiss for air, your breaths coming fast, but Logan didn’t stop. His mouth found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your throat, teeth scraping against your skin just enough to make you gasp. His hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, gripping you with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you.
“Logan,” you whispered, your voice breathless, needy. You tilted your head back, giving him better access as his lips continued their descent, leaving a path of fire along your skin. Your hands fisted in his flannel, pulling him closer, and he groaned again, the sound vibrating through your body.
“God, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire, like he was barely holding on. His hands slipped under your dress, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your thighs, and you shivered, your breath catching in your throat. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with need. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but the words were laced with something softer, something that made your heart skip.
You didn’t reply, just pulled him down for another kiss, this one just as desperate as the first. Your hands roamed over his chest, slipping beneath the open flannel to feel the heat of his skin, the hard muscles that tensed under your touch. Logan shivered, his breath catching as your fingers brushed against his bare chest, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he reacted to you.
His jacket slipped from his shoulders, landing somewhere on the floor, but neither of you paid it any mind. Your hands were already pushing the flannel off him, revealing more of his skin, and Logan helped you, shrugging it off with a growl of impatience. The white beater he wore beneath clung to his chest, and you could see the way his muscles flexed beneath it, the way the fabric stretched taut over his shoulders.
He leaned back down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, and you moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders. Logan’s hands were back under your dress, sliding up, leaving trails of heat in their wake. His touch was rough, calloused, but so incredibly gentle in a way that made your heart ache. You arched into him, your body pressing closer, desperate for more, for everything he was willing to give.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, his hands sliding higher until his thumbs brushed the edge of your panties. He paused, breathing heavily, his eyes searching yours, looking for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. You were all in, had been from the moment you’d first seen him.
You reached down, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hands further up, silently urging him on. Logan’s breath hitched, and his eyes darkened even more, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and you could feel your heart pounding as he tugged, the thin fabric slipping down your legs.
"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his voice thick with need as his calloused hands slid back up your thighs, pushing your dress higher. "You're so damn wet already."
You gasped as his fingers brushed against your center, your hips jerking up instinctively. "Logan, please," you whimpered, reaching for him.
He leaned down to kiss you hard, his tongue pushing into your mouth as his fingers began exploring you properly. The roughness of his hands contrasted with how gently he touched you, like he was afraid of breaking you. You moaned into his mouth as he slid one thick finger inside, your hands gripping his shoulders.
"That's it, darlin'," he murmured against your lips. "Let me hear you."
Your dress was bunched around your waist now as Logan worked another finger into you, stretching you carefully. Your earlier orgasm had left you sensitive, making every touch feel electric. His thumb found your clit and began rubbing slow circles that had you writhing beneath him.
"Logan," you gasped, your nails digging into his skin through his beater. "I need—ah!—I need more."
He growled low in his throat, curling his fingers inside you. "Tell me what you need, Y/N. Say it."
Your face flushed but you met his eyes. "I need you inside me. Please, Logan. I've wanted this for so long."
Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He withdrew his fingers, making you whimper at the loss, and reached down to undo his belt. The metal clinked as he pulled it free, the sound sending a thrill through you.
You sat up enough to pull your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra. Logan's eyes raked over you hungrily as he pushed his jeans down his hips. The obvious bulge in his boxers made your mouth go dry.
"Come here," he growled, pulling you into another searing kiss as his hands found the clasp of your bra. It took him only seconds to undo it, and then you were bare before him, your nipples hardening in the cool air.
Logan's mouth moved to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks as his hands cupped your breasts. You moaned as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, your back arching into his touch.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough. He shifted to take one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you gasped and squirmed beneath him.
Your hands found the hem of his beater, tugging insistently until he pulled back long enough to yank it off. The sight of his bare chest, all hard muscle and dark hair, made heat pool between your legs. There were old scars scattered across his skin - remnants of wounds time hadn't quite erased.
You reached for his boxers but he caught your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand. "Not yet," he growled, his free hand sliding down between your legs again. "Want to make sure you're ready for me."
His fingers found your clit again and you cried out, oversensitive and desperate. "Logan, please," you begged, trying to buck your hips up against his hand. "I'm ready, I swear. I need you now."
He studied your face for a long moment, his eyes dark with desire, before releasing your wrists. "Take them off," he ordered, nodding to his boxers.
Your hands shook slightly as you pushed the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock. He was huge, thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, and Logan's breath hitched.
"Careful, darlin'," he warned, his voice strained. "Been wanting this too long to end it early."
He pushed you back onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. The head of his cock brushed against your entrance and you both groaned. Logan braced himself on his forearms above you, his eyes locked on yours.
"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle. "Once I start, I don't know if I'll be able to stop."
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I'm sure. Please, Logan. I want you."
He kissed you hard as he began pushing inside, swallowing your gasps as he stretched you open. The burn was intense but perfect, your body gradually adjusting to his size. Logan moved slowly, giving you time to adapt, but you could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself back.
"Fuck," he groaned when he was finally fully seated inside you. "So tight, darlin'. Feel so good around me."
You clutched at his shoulders, panting. "Move," you urged. "Please, I need—"
Logan pulled back and thrust forward again, setting a steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. Each stroke hit something deep inside you that made pleasure spark through your whole body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he fucked into you with increasing force.
"That's it," he growled, watching your face contort with pleasure. "Take it, Y/N. Take all of me."
Your nails raked down his back as the pressure built inside you again. Logan's thrusts grew harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The headboard banged against the wall with each movement but neither of you cared about the noise.
"Logan," you gasped, feeling yourself getting close. "I'm gonna—ah!"
"Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. One hand slid between your bodies to rub your clit. "Want to feel you come on my cock."
The added stimulation pushed you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Logan growled, his rhythm faltering as your walls pulsed around him.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. "Where do you want—"
"Inside," you gasped, still riding the aftershocks. "Please, Logan. Wanna feel you."
He cursed, his hips snapping forward a few more times before he buried himself deep with a growl, spilling inside you. You could feel him pulsing, filling you up as he collapsed onto his forearms above you.
For several long moments, the only sound was your heavy breathing. Logan's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling the sweat-slick skin under your palms.
Finally, he pulled out carefully and rolled onto his side, pulling you with him. You winced slightly at the soreness between your legs, but it was a good kind of ache. Logan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest.
---
Logan let out a low groan as he woke, the bed beneath him feeling far too comfortable, unfamiliar in a way that immediately set him on edge. It took a second for his mind to catch up, piecing together where he was and, more importantly, who he was with.
He didn’t need to look over to feel the warmth beside him, or the way your hair fanned out across the pillow. It hit him all at once—the heat of your skin against his, the way you’d leaned into him last night, confident, unrestrained. He opened his eyes, gaze finding you lying beside him, face soft and peaceful in sleep, an arm draped over his chest as if you’d claimed him in the night.
Logan sighed, glancing at the ceiling, but couldn’t help looking down at you again, still asleep and blissfully unaware of the storm in his head. He’d known it was a bad idea from the start, coming upstairs with you last night, letting his guard down. But damn, when you’d gotten close, pushing him toward that chair with that look in your eyes—he’d been gone the second you’d touched him.
He was even further gone when he had finally kissed you—it was one of his biggest regrets the last time he had seen you back in 1943—he never held you the way he wanted to. Too afraid that maybe he was the problem, the reason you kept on dying over and over.
And because of that, he hadn’t been this close to you since 1900.
It was strange, being here like this—letting his guard down after all those lives, all those memories of watching you fade out of his reach. A part of him had always tried to keep a distance, to save himself from the heartbreak he knew was coming. But last night… last night, he’d been weak.
He brushed a thumb over your arm without thinking, lost in thought. It was impossible not to wonder, with you lying beside him like this, what it would be like if this time were different. If, just once, he could hold onto you, let himself believe you’d stay.
But he knew better.
His hand lingered on your skin a moment too long, and he felt you stir, your lashes fluttering as you slowly opened your eyes. A soft smile touched your lips when you saw him, and he felt his resolve crack just a little more.
“Mornin’,” he murmured, his voice rougher than he’d meant.
“Mmm,” you hummed, still sleepy, your fingers tracing a lazy pattern over his chest. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.” You said it lightly, but there was a hint of something else there—relief, maybe. “Guess I finally wore you out.”
Logan huffed, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Guess so.”
You shifted to look at him, your eyes bright with that familiar mischief. “So, what’s your excuse this time?”
He raised a brow. “Excuse?”
“Yeah. For pulling away,” you said, your tone casual but pointed. “You’ve always got one.”
Logan’s jaw clenched slightly, and he broke eye contact, looking away. “It’s complicated, Y/N.”
You reached up, cupping his face and guiding his gaze back to you. “That’s what you always say. Doesn’t mean it has to be.”
He was silent for a moment, searching your face. He could feel the weight of his past with you, all those memories stacking up like a dam holding back a flood. But he couldn’t let you in on that. Couldn’t make you carry the burden of knowing you’d lived—and died—so many times before. It was his cross to bear, not yours.
“Maybe I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he finally said, his voice quieter, a touch raw.
You let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Please, Logan. You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”
Logan just shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small, amused smile that crept onto his face. “You’re a handful, you know that?”
“I’ve heard that once or twice,” you teased, running your hand along his chest. “Lucky for you, I don’t scare easy.”
That hint of defiance in your voice tugged at something deep inside him, and he caught your hand, holding it in his as he looked into your eyes. “You say that now. But I’ve got a way of… complicating things.”
Your gaze softened, but there was still a spark there, unyielding. “Good thing I like complicated.”
Logan’s eyes darkened, and for a second, he felt that familiar pull, the urge to tell you everything—to let you in on the truth of why he was here, why he couldn’t stay away. But he stopped himself, the weight of all those lost lifetimes bearing down on him again. He couldn’t do that to you, not this time.
“Then I guess I’m stuck with you,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, even though his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.
“Guess so,” you replied with a grin, shifting closer. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him. “Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you ever gonna stop acting like you’re some kind of curse?” Your voice was soft but firm, like you were daring him to argue.
Logan went silent, his gaze flickering away from yours. You’d hit closer to the truth than you knew.
“Don’t know if I can,” he admitted after a pause. “It’s… complicated.” He shrugged, hoping you’d leave it at that.
But, of course, you didn’t. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep proving you wrong,” you murmured, pressing a light kiss to his jaw, a warm reassurance that only made him feel the pull of his past even stronger.
He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, letting himself savor this one small, stolen moment with you. Just this once, he’d allow himself that. Because deep down, he knew he’d always lose you in the end.
And this time, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Maybe, just maybe, even put that ring to use.
---
You were back at the dog shelter, this time staying a little bit longer since one of the workers, Amelia, was out sick.
Lorraine handed you a few leashes, “mind taking some of ‘em out for a walk?”
You happily grabbed the roped leashes, “of course.” Then you glanced over at Logan, who had been eyeing the dogs with a mix of amusement and reservation. “You up for walkin’ some too?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, then at the leashes in your hand, but there was a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Didn’t take you for a dog wrangler, Y/N.”
You laughed, clipping one of the leashes onto a small brown mutt who was practically bouncing with excitement. “Come on, Logan. What’re you afraid of? They don’t bite—well, not all of them, anyway.”
Logan chuckled, reluctantly stepping forward. “Right. Long as they don’t try to drag me down the street.”
You handed him a leash attached to a shaggy, medium-sized dog with big brown eyes, looking up at him expectantly. “Here. This one’s named Ringo. He’s a sweetheart.”
Logan eyed the dog suspiciously before giving the leash a little tug, testing the waters. “Ringo, huh?” He knelt down and patted the dog’s head, a faint smile crossing his face as the dog leaned into his touch. “Guess you’re alright.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “See? He likes you already.” As you finished leashing up a few more of the dogs, you handed the leashes to Logan. “Think you can handle these guys too?”
Logan took the leashes without complaint, looking down at the little group of dogs at his feet. “Guess I don’t have much choice.”
“Good answer,” you teased, giving him a wink before heading toward the door. You led the way outside, the two of you walking side-by-side with the dogs trotting happily along. It was a warm day, and the sun was shining down, casting a soft glow over everything.
Logan glanced over at you as you moved down the sidewalk together, the dogs tugging excitedly at their leashes. You had a carefree smile on your face, and he found himself watching you more than the path ahead, the memory of a few nights ago still vivid in his mind. The thought of it sent a thrill through him—yet at the same time, a pang of dread.
“You always this happy walking dogs, or is it just ‘cause I’m here?” he teased, a little smirk tugging at his lips.
You shot him a playful look. “Guess you’ll never know.” You nudged him lightly with your shoulder, eyes bright with mischief. “But if you keep coming with me, you might find out.”
He let out a small laugh, his gaze softening as he looked away. Even after all these years, you could still surprise him—like the way you’d drag him to places like this or the way you talked about the little things with such enthusiasm. It was one of those qualities he remembered about you from lifetimes ago, and it hadn’t changed. It made him feel like maybe, somehow, this was different.
As you walked a little further, one of the dogs—a scruffy little terrier—yipped and tugged at Logan’s leash, trying to chase after a pigeon. He grunted, holding the leash tightly and muttering, “Settle down, mutt. You’re not goin’ anywhere.”
You laughed, glancing over with an amused smile. “Ringo’s got more energy than you’d think, huh?”
Logan shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, well, maybe I should be takin’ notes from him.” He looked at you then, and his expression softened. “You’ve really got a thing for these dogs, don’t ya?”
Your smile faded into something more thoughtful as you looked down at the furry pack in front of you. “I dunno. I guess they’re just… easy to be around. They don’t care about who my father is or what I do—they just want someone to be with them, you know?”
Logan nodded, watching the way you interacted with the dogs, your fingers lightly brushing over their heads, your voice soft as you spoke to them. You’d always had that kindness about you, that gentleness that made him want to believe in something better, something… safe.
“You’re good with ‘em,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
You looked up at him, a smile in your eyes. “You know, you’re not so bad with them either, Logan.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, I think I’ll leave the dog-wranglin’ to you.”
For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the bustling city around you fading into the background as you wandered through the neighborhood with the dogs. Finally, you reached a small park, and you stopped to let the dogs sniff around.
As they explored, you took a seat on a nearby bench, patting the spot beside you. Logan hesitated for a second before joining you, stretching his legs out in front of him.
You looked over at him, your expression soft. “Thanks for coming today. I know this probably isn’t your ideal way to spend an afternoon.”
Logan shrugged, trying to act casual, but he couldn’t hide the warmth in his gaze. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna be,” he said, his voice low.
The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, and you looked away, feeling a little bashful. You fiddled with one of the leashes, clearing your throat. “You know… the more time we spend together, the more I wonder how long you’re planning to stick around.”
He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he considered his answer. He wanted to tell you the truth—that he’d been watching you, waiting for you, for so many lifetimes. But he couldn’t. Instead, he reached out, his hand covering yours where it rested on the bench.
“As long as you’ll have me,” he said quietly.
The words hung between you, and for a moment, it was like the whole world had faded away. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the depths of his expression.
A soft smile touched your lips, and you squeezed his hand. “Then you’re gonna be around for a long time, Logan.”
He felt a strange, hopeful ache in his chest at your words, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, this time, things could be different.
The dogs barked, breaking the spell, and you both laughed, pulling away as you got up to wrangle them again. But even as you continued on your walk, he stayed close by your side, his hand occasionally brushing yours as you walked—almost as if he was reminding himself that you were real, that you were here with him.
---
Late one night, you lay beside Logan in the dim light filtering through the window, the city’s night sounds a steady hum in the distance. Your head rested on his chest, your fingers tracing lazy circles over the skin above his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your touch.
Logan shifted slightly, his hand coming up to rest gently on your back. For a long time, he just lay there, watching you in silence, his thumb brushing along your spine. You could tell he was relaxed, but there was something else—a quiet intensity in the way his gaze lingered on you, a heaviness in the air that made your heart race.
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” you murmured, letting your fingers trail up to his collarbone. You glanced up at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile as he met your eyes.
“Just… wonderin’ how I got roped into all this,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. But the glint in his eyes gave him away, and you saw something softer there.
“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like you mind too much.” You smirked, giving his chest a light pat. “I’d almost say you’re gettin’ attached.”
He snorted, pulling you a little closer, his arm tightening around you. “Could say the same for you,” he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. “You’re insatiable, y’know that?”
You laughed, and the sound was soft in the quiet room. “You’re the one who keeps showin’ up, Logan. If you wanted me to behave, you’d stay away.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Maybe I don’t want you to behave.”
Your fingers stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So you like me like this, then? A little reckless… a little spoiled?” you teased.
He chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Think I do.”
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you settled back against his chest, letting your hand rest over his heart. For a while, neither of you said anything, the silence comfortable, his warmth grounding you. It was a rare kind of peace—one that you’d come to cherish whenever you were with him.
But then, curiosity got the better of you, and you lifted your head, giving him a thoughtful look. “Logan,” you began, your voice hesitant. “How long are you gonna stick around? I mean… I know my dad thinks you’re just here for protection, but… it feels like more than that.”
Logan’s gaze darkened, a flash of something unreadable passing over his face. He glanced away, his jaw tensing as he seemed to search for the right words. “As long as you want me here, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
The weight of his words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Then don’t,” you whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want you to.”
He didn’t say anything in response, but his hand slipped up to cup the back of your head, pulling you down into a slow, lingering kiss. There was something different about it this time, a quiet desperation that made your pulse quicken, like he was trying to hold on to this moment, to keep it from slipping away.
When you finally pulled back, you searched his eyes, wondering what was going through his mind. “You’re not gonna let me go, are you?”
A small smile tugged at his lips, though his gaze was still shadowed. “Not a chance, darlin’.”
You felt a surge of affection for him then, this man who’d somehow become both your protector and your closest confidant. He was rough around the edges, guarded and distant with everyone else—but with you, he was different. You brought out a softness in him, a warmth that felt as though it had been buried for a long, long time.
Without thinking, you reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering against his skin. “You know, for a guy who’s supposed to be my bodyguard, you’re doing a terrible job at keeping things professional,” you teased, though there was no bite in your words.
Logan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re the one makin’ things complicated, Y/N.”
“Maybe.” You smirked, your fingers still tracing over his chest. “But you don’t seem to mind.”
He looked at you then, something fierce in his eyes, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the man he’d been—a man who’d loved and lost, who’d carried scars from lifetimes past. You wondered if he would ever tell you his story, if he would ever let you in on the secrets he guarded so closely.
But for now, you were content with the silence, with the feel of his heartbeat beneath your hand, with the quiet reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.
As the night wore on, you lay there together, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.
---
Your father had asked you to come to his office in the spacious house. At first it was nothing but muffled voices from outside the door, until Logan heard your father speak again, for a longer period of time, causing your own voice to rise.
While Logan couldn’t make out the words you were saying even with his enhanced hearing, he could tell you weren’t happy. Your voice carried that sharp edge you only got when something really struck a nerve, and judging by the way you didn’t hold back, it had to be serious.
Logan lingered just outside the heavy, mahogany door of your father’s office, his fists clenched as he heard your voice rising behind it. It was clear you were upset, and whatever was being discussed inside, you didn’t like it. He’d seen you frustrated, angry even, but never like this—there was a desperation in your tone that sent a chill through him.
Moments later, the door flew open, and you stormed out, cheeks flushed with anger, eyes flashing as you spotted him. You barely paused, brushing past him, but Logan caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “What happened?”
You turned to face him, anger and hurt swirling in your eyes. “He’s… he’s marrying me off, Logan. To that family. After everything he promised me—he said he’d never force me into something like this.”
Logan’s expression hardened. “What are you talkin’ about? He can’t just… marry you off like some kind of deal.”
Your hands were shaking as you brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, struggling to keep your composure. “Apparently, he can. There’s been this feud with the Romano family for years, and he says this is the only way to keep the peace. To protect me. Protect us.”
Logan’s jaw clenched. He felt a familiar anger rising in him, a deep, protective instinct he’d been fighting to keep under wraps. “So, he’s just gonna throw you into a marriage you don’t want? You don’t even know this guy, do you?”
You shook your head, looking away. “I met him once. He was… polite enough. But that’s not the point, Logan. I don’t want to marry him—or anyone like this. My father always said he’d let me choose, that he wouldn’t… sell me off.” The bitterness in your tone stung, your gaze distant as if replaying the conversation.
Logan searched your face, feeling an ache he couldn’t put into words. “And he knows how you feel about this?”
You swallowed, nodding. “I told him, but he says I don’t understand the bigger picture, that this is what’s best for everyone.” You gave a hollow laugh, looking down. “For everyone but me.”
He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was just a bodyguard, technically part of the arrangement meant to keep you safe from any threats. But you were more than just a job to him, and the thought of you being forced into something like this made his blood boil. He let out a rough breath, stepping closer. “Y/N, you don’t have to go along with this. Not if you don’t want to.”
Your gaze softened as you looked up at him. “And what am I supposed to do, Logan? Run off in the middle of the night?” You gave a small, bitter smile. “I don’t even know where I’d go.”
He didn’t hesitate, his voice dropping low. “Then we go together. If you don’t wanna go through with this, we’ll figure somethin’ else out.”
Your breath hitched at his words, and for a moment, the anger and hurt seemed to fade, replaced by something warmer, more uncertain. “You’d really… leave everything?”
He shrugged, almost nonchalant, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes. “I got no reason to stay here if you’re not here, too.”
You hesitated, torn between the depth of his offer and the weight of the decision you knew would follow. Finally, you gave a small nod, as if grounding yourself in the moment. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen, Logan, but… I just need to know you’re here. That I’m not going through this alone.”
He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Y/N. You got my word on that.”
There was a silence between you, thick and charged, each of you processing the weight of everything unsaid. His gaze stayed locked on yours, and for a moment, the anger and fear in your eyes softened, replaced by something closer to relief. And then, almost impulsively, you took his hand, squeezing it tight.
“Thank you, Logan. I… I needed to hear that,” you said softly, glancing away before meeting his gaze again, vulnerability written all over your face. “Just… don’t let go, okay?”
He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not a chance, darlin’.”
---
Nancy was doing your hair once again for the dinner with the Romano family. You had tried everything over the past few weeks, trying to convince your father that this didn’t have to happen. That he promised you he would never do this.
But no matter what you did, he was firm in his stance, "you're getting married to Clyde, and that's final."
You sat still, staring at your reflection in the mirror as Nancy pinned up the last of your curls. Your face looked composed, serene even, but beneath it, there was a storm brewing—a knot of anger and dread you couldn’t shake. Every time you thought about that dinner tonight, your stomach twisted. Clyde Romano. A stranger. And yet, your father had decided this was your future, and nothing you said seemed to change his mind.
Nancy, sensing the tension, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It’ll be alright, Y/N. You’ll be surrounded by family."
Family. Right. But none of them seemed to understand how trapped you felt. You forced a tight-lipped smile, nodding. "Thanks, Nancy."
As she stepped back, there was a light knock at the door. You turned to see Logan standing there, looking slightly uncomfortable in his formal attire but as steadfast as ever. His gaze softened as he took in your appearance, though he quickly masked it.
"Didn’t mean to interrupt," he said, glancing between you and Nancy. "Just wanted to make sure you’re ready."
Nancy finished adjusting your hair and excused herself, leaving you alone with Logan. You looked at him, searching his face, hoping for some kind of lifeline.
"Logan," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I’m being dragged somewhere I can’t escape from."
He stepped closer, his expression darkening as he listened. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N. You know I’m with you, whatever you decide.” His hand reached out, brushing against your arm, his touch grounding you.
You drew in a shaky breath, steadying yourself. “What if I decide to just… disappear?” you asked, half-joking but mostly serious.
Logan’s eyes met yours, and you saw the unspoken resolve there. “Then I’ll be right behind you. Doesn’t matter where.”
For a moment, you let yourself believe it—that you could simply run, with Logan at your side. But reality crashed back in, and you dropped your gaze.
"I wish it were that simple," you whispered, clenching your fists. "But if I leave, it could tear everything apart."
Logan’s hand settled over yours, his grip firm and reassuring. "Then we make it through tonight. And tomorrow, we figure out the rest. You’re not facing this alone, darlin’. Not as long as I’m here."
You looked up at him, finding strength in his gaze. He’d been your rock through all of this, his presence steady and unwavering. And tonight, that was what you needed most.
“Alright,” you murmured, giving him a small, grateful smile. “Let’s go face this… together.”
He nodded, his grip on your hand a silent promise. Whatever came next, you knew he’d be there, just as he always had been. And with that thought, you found the courage to head downstairs to face your family—and the Romanos—one more time.
---
The dinner was at an Italian restaurant, one your father owned as cover for his business. Your dad sat at the head of the table while Clyde’s father sat at the other end. In front of you was your uncle Ermanno, who was also your dad’s consigliere, while Clyde sat next to you.
Logan, along with the other bodyguards, stood watch at the entrance of the private dining room, their silent gazes sweeping the place. He wore his usual hard expression, though his eyes softened just a touch when they found you across the room. He’d been watching you all night—catching every little shift, each moment you looked down or forced a smile, every subtle tightening of your hand on the tablecloth.
Clyde Romano leaned in a little closer, his arm casually brushing against yours as he tried to make small talk. "So, Y/N, I hear you’ve been helping out at a shelter?"
You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I volunteer with the dogs mostly. It’s…nice to get away from all this sometimes.” You forced a smile, trying to keep things polite. You could feel your father’s gaze on you, watching for any misstep.
Clyde smiled back, but it felt too rehearsed. “Well, once we’re married, you won’t have to worry about shelters or anything like that. You’ll have enough responsibilities as a Romano.”
You felt your stomach twist at his words. Logan’s gaze sharpened from across the room as he picked up on the slight shift in your expression. You shot him a quick look, your eyes pleading for any kind of rescue. Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, he almost looked like he’d step in. But he stayed put, his hands clenched behind his back.
Instead, he looked for the smallest opening. Just as Clyde’s attention was pulled away by his father, Logan slipped into view, leaning down beside you. “You alright?” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.
“Not even close,” you whispered back, your eyes fixed on your glass. “He’s already talking about our future like… like it’s set in stone.”
Logan’s eyes flickered with something fierce. “We’ll get through this, Y/N. Tonight’s just another show. Nothing more.” His fingers brushed the back of your chair, the barely-there touch sending a wave of calm through you.
But Clyde’s voice cut back in before Logan could say anything more. “Y/N, we were thinking of heading to Italy for the honeymoon. It’ll be a good chance to meet the rest of the family there.”
Your heart sank further. Italy. An entire ocean away, away from everything you knew, from everyone who mattered to you. “Italy,” you echoed, your voice strained but steady.
“Yeah. The Romano estates are beautiful—beaches, vineyards… a real paradise.” He seemed oblivious to your hesitation, already dreaming up plans you’d had no say in. Your father looked pleased, nodding his approval from his end of the table.
Logan straightened, but the look he gave you was unmistakable: You don’t have to do this.
You swallowed, shifting in your seat as Clyde rambled on. When his focus shifted to his own father again, you leaned back just enough to whisper to Logan, “I’m not sure I can keep pretending.”
Logan’s expression softened, and for a second, he let a hint of his guard down. “You don’t have to, darlin’.” His voice was low, almost tender, meant for you alone. “Say the word, and we walk outta here. Right now.”
The thought made your heart skip, but your gaze drifted toward your father, seated across the table with a look of satisfaction. Leaving wasn’t just about you; it would mean defying him, challenging the life he’d molded for you. The thought felt like a mountain on your shoulders.
“I can’t just walk away,” you said quietly. “He’s… he’d never forgive me.”
Logan’s hand brushed yours under the table, a quiet show of support. “Maybe he’s the one who should be asking for forgiveness,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a light circle over your knuckles. The warmth of his touch settled something in you, steadying your breath.
You gave a tiny nod, squeezing his hand for just a second before pulling away. Logan straightened, stepping back to his post but still keeping his gaze on you. Clyde was oblivious, caught up in a conversation with his father about future business plans, each word feeling like a nail in the coffin.
Dinner dragged on, a blur of forced laughter and stiff conversation. Every time you felt yourself sinking, you looked toward Logan. He was there, solid and watchful, like a silent promise of something real in a room full of facades.
Eventually, the families began to wind down, talk shifting to more casual chatter. Clyde, emboldened by the night’s success, reached over and took your hand, his grip possessive. “Soon, you’ll be part of the family, Y/N. You’ll see. You’ll come to love it.”
Your mind screamed at the thought, every fiber of you wanting to pull away. But you held still, not daring to make a scene. Logan’s gaze narrowed, his jaw set as he took in the sight of Clyde’s hand around yours.
Finally, as the night came to an end and the families started to stand, Clyde leaned in with a smug smile. “Ready to go? I thought we’d take a walk, just the two of us.”
Before you could answer, Logan was there, stepping in with a casual yet firm presence. “Mr. Romano,” he said, addressing Clyde but looking right at you, “your father asked to speak with you in private before you head out.”
Clyde frowned but nodded, reluctantly releasing your hand. “I’ll be back soon, Y/N.” He disappeared toward the far end of the room, leaving you alone with Logan.
You let out a slow breath, the tension finally loosening from your shoulders. “Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him, gratitude spilling from every word.
Logan gave a slight nod. “Couldn’t let him drag you out there without a say.” His voice was rough, but his eyes softened as he held your gaze. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N. Whatever happens… you got me.”
The weight of the night lifted just a little, and for a moment, you almost believed you had a choice in all of this.
---
“A week?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood in your father’s office. The weight of the word seemed to pull you under, even as you fought to keep your voice steady.
Your father’s expression was impassive, arms crossed as he looked at you. “Yes, Y/N. The Romano family wants to move quickly. They think it’s best, and I agree. It’s time you take on this responsibility for the family.”
Your jaw clenched. You remembered the promises he made, back when you were younger, that he’d never force you into something like this. “I just… I don’t understand. You always said—”
“People change, Y/N,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “This is what’s best for you and for us. For the family.”
You shook your head, feeling a rush of helplessness. “And what about what I want? I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks that I don’t want this, and you’re not listening.”
He exhaled sharply, the kind of sigh that signaled his patience was running thin. “This isn’t about what you want. I didn’t raise you to be selfish.”
“Selfish?” The word stung, and you couldn’t help the surge of anger that rose within you. “I’m asking for my life. How is that selfish?”
He frowned, unyielding. “Enough, Y/N. This is happening. We’re done discussing it.”
Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay composed. The walls of the office seemed to close in on you, the reality of it settling heavy and cold. You had a week—seven days—to either submit to this life he’d chosen for you or… what? You didn’t even know.
Without another word, you turned and left, fighting the urge to slam the door behind you. The hall felt stifling as you walked out, your thoughts churning.
When you reached your room, Logan was there, waiting. The moment he saw your face, he stiffened. “What happened?” His voice was a low rumble, the concern clear.
“A week,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “I have a week before he marries me off to Clyde.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and you could see the flash of anger in his eyes. He stepped closer, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder. “So that’s it, then? He’s just… throwing you to that bastard?”
You nodded, the words catching in your throat. “I don’t know what to do, Logan. I tried everything, but he won’t listen. He’s set on it.”
Logan’s hand slipped down, finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze, his rough fingers warm and grounding. You tightened your grip, the frustration and helplessness boiling inside you finally having somewhere to go.
“I’m supposed to just go along with it,” you muttered, bitterness seeping into your words. “Act like I’m thrilled to be Clyde’s obedient little wife. Like my life’s just… his to take.”
Logan’s gaze darkened. “It’s not. You know that. And anyone who tries to take it without your say? They got me to deal with.” His voice was low and dangerous, a promise just for you.
You looked up, searching his face, a flicker of hope stirring. “But what can we do, Logan? He’s not going to listen to me. And if I push back too hard… I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“Then let me get you out of here,” Logan said, leaning in closer. His voice softened, gentler now. “We can leave, right now if you want. Just say the word.”
Your heart twisted painfully, the temptation so fierce you almost said yes then and there. But reality clawed its way back, the weight of your father’s expectations and the tight grip he kept on every part of your life. Leaving would mean giving up everything—and, deep down, you weren’t sure you could risk it.
“What about my dad?” you whispered, feeling the weight of it pressing down again. “He’s… he’d see it as betrayal, Logan. And what if he goes after you?”
A flicker of something familiar crossed Logan’s face, a shadow from a life you couldn’t remember but that he clearly did. “Y/N, don’t worry about me,” he murmured. “Been through worse.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture so tender it nearly undid you. “And if he’s got a problem, then he can take it up with me.”
You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger and fear give way just a bit. “You say that now, but you haven’t seen how he gets when people cross him. He’d never forgive me, Logan. He’d never forgive us.”
Logan’s hand moved to cup your face, his touch steadying you as his eyes met yours. “Then we don’t need his forgiveness. We get you out, and I keep you safe. Whatever comes after, we face it together.”
The fierce certainty in his voice sent a warmth flooding through you, your resolve hardening under his gaze. “But Clyde, the Romano’s… they won’t just let it go.”
A smirk tugged at Logan’s mouth, the edge of defiance clear. “Then they’ll learn what happens when they mess with you. Ain’t nobody’s right to take away your freedom, Y/N. Not your old man, not Clyde, not anyone.”
A beat of silence stretched between you, his hand still warm against your cheek. Your fingers tightened around his, and for a second, all the anger and dread faded, leaving just you and him in the quiet of the room.
“What about… us?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and for a second, you held your breath, waiting for his reaction.
Logan’s eyes softened, his gaze never leaving yours. “What about us, darlin’?” He brushed a thumb along your cheek, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You think I’d just leave you here to face this on your own?”
His words sent a rush of warmth through you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, his presence steady and unshakable. He let out a low sigh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, his other hand tracing gentle circles over your back.
“You’re all I’ve got in this,” you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I can’t lose you, too.”
“You won’t,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening just enough to reassure you. “Not now, not ever.”
You stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in his embrace, the weight of everything slipping away in his arms. But eventually, reality crept back in, and you pulled back, catching the flicker of resolve in his gaze.
“If we do this…” You paused, steadying yourself. “If we leave, we need a plan.”
Logan gave a small nod, his hand still resting on yours. “We’ll figure it out. Tonight, we’re just gettin’ you through this.”
It was a promise, simple and unbreakable, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope stirring deep inside you.
---
The rehearsal dinner was held in a private room at the church a few days later; a grand, echoing place with gilded walls and tall stained-glass windows that cast colored light over everything. Clyde, his parents, and your family were all gathered, discussing wedding arrangements like it was a done deal, each word chipping away at any illusion of control you had left.
Logan and the other bodyguards stood at a respectful distance, keeping watch. He tried to keep his gaze neutral, but his eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, catching every forced smile and stiff nod you gave.
As the minister went through the motions, you and Clyde practiced exchanging vows. You held his hands, repeating words that felt like a foreign language—lifeless, meaningless. Your eyes drifted toward Logan, and he gave you the barest nod, grounding you with that single, unspoken promise.
After the vows, Clyde leaned in close, his voice low and smug. “I think you’ll come to love our life together, Y/N. Just give it time.”
You forced a polite smile, biting back the words you wanted to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan clench his fists, his face darkening.
Finally, as the rehearsal ended and people began drifting off, you made your way to a quiet corner, needing a moment alone. Logan slipped over to you, his movements subtle as he came to stand beside you.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softer now that it was just the two of you.
You shook your head, feeling that familiar knot of dread twist tighter. “Logan, I don’t think I can go through with this. But I don’t know if I can run, either. I’m…  I’m stuck.”
He took a deep breath, his gaze intense as he looked down at you. “What if I told you that you didn’t have to decide tonight?” he asked quietly. “That we could just… take it one day at a time. You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”
The tension in your shoulders eased a bit, and you met his eyes, finding strength in the certainty there. He wasn’t pushing you, wasn’t forcing anything on you. He was just… here, with you, in whatever way you needed.
“Okay,” you whispered, nodding slowly. “One day at a time.”
Logan gave a small, reassuring smile. “That’s all we need, darlin’.” His hand brushed your shoulder, lingering just a second longer than necessary before he stepped back.
---
The day of the wedding had arrived, and you were dolled up, your makeup and hair were perfect, and your wedding dress was heavy, constricting, and large.
Once the makeup artists and hair stylists left, you had fled to the bathroom in the bridal suite and were currently hunched over the toilet. You hadn’t thrown up—yet—but you could feel the nausea and anxiousness rising.
You braced yourself against the counter, taking deep breaths as you tried to calm the twisting feeling in your stomach. The dress felt like a vice, heavy and restrictive, pressing on every nerve, suffocating in a way that went beyond fabric and lace. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping the queasiness would pass.
A knock at the door pulled you from the spinning in your head.
“Y/N?” Nancy’s soft, steady voice filtered through, full of that motherly concern you’d come to rely on all your life.
You took a steadying breath, swallowing hard before calling out, “Come in, Nancy.”
The door creaked open, and Nancy stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her. Her gaze immediately softened as she took in the look on your face, her expression a mix of sympathy and something else—resolve, maybe.
“Oh, cara mia,” she murmured, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t look well. This whole business—it’s too much, isn’t it?”
You managed a shaky nod. “I… I don’t know if I can do this, Nancy. Every time I think about it, I just…” You trailed off, not sure how to put into words the suffocating dread that had settled over you.
She gave you a small, encouraging squeeze. “You know,” she said quietly, “there are other paths besides the one your father chose for you. And you don’t have to walk it alone.”
Your heart skipped at her words. “You… you’d help me? Even if I…?”
Nancy nodded, a spark of fierce protectiveness in her eyes. “Logan’s already got your things in his car,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you’re ready to go, he’s waiting.”
You blinked back tears before grabbing one of her hands, “y- you want me to go?”
“SÌ. Your father is a bastardo, breaking that promise him and your mother made.” She squeezed your hand, “Logan’s a good man. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He won’t let you down.”
You swallowed hard, Nancy’s words settling like a quiet fire in your chest. She was right. Your father had broken his promise, and you didn’t owe him your life just because he controlled every other part of it.
With a shaky exhale, you gave her a nod. “Alright… I’ll go.”
Nancy’s face softened, relief mingling with pride. “Good girl. Now, take this.” She pressed a small envelope into your hand. “Cash. Just in case.”
You looked down at it, blinking back tears. “Thank you, Nancy. For everything.”
She pulled you into a hug, her hand stroking your back gently. “Go, cara mia. Go live your life.” She pulled back, eyes glinting with fierce determination. “And don’t look back.”
You nodded, holding onto that resolve as you slipped out of the bathroom and made your way down the hall, heart pounding. Every step felt heavier, weighed down by fear and the voice in the back of your mind that told you this was dangerous, reckless. But when you stepped outside and saw Logan waiting by his car, the weight lifted.
He looked up, his gaze intense but soft, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as you had. “You ready?”
You hesitated, just for a moment, before giving him a small nod. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”
Logan opened the passenger door for you, helping you in, his hand lingering on yours for a second longer than necessary. He closed the door, then climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a low rumble that matched the pulse pounding in your ears.
As he pulled out of the church’s parking lot, the weight of the decision hit you again. You were leaving everything behind—the security, the expectations, the people who’d shaped your entire life. But with each passing second, the fear melted away, replaced by a strange, liberating sense of excitement.
Logan glanced over, noticing the small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t look so panicked now.”
You shook your head, unable to hide your grin. “I’m not. Not with you here.”
He gave a soft chuckle, that familiar warmth in his gaze. “Good. Because we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
You settled back, feeling more at ease than you’d felt in months. There was silence for a moment, comfortable and charged, before you turned to him, voice barely a whisper.
“Where are we going?”
Logan smirked. “Anywhere but here.”
You laughed softly, relaxing into your seat. The road stretched ahead, open and endless, and for the first time in a long while, the future felt like something you could shape.
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logan is 141 years old and reader is around 23-25 years old
what!? is that a happy ending? who would've thought... next up, is origins!
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literatelyobsessive · 6 hours ago
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done for the night
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axel kovacevic x reader
author's note ⋆。𖦹 ✮ ‧₊˚✩彡
hiiiii this is my first fic for any CK character so i'm kinda nervous. hope u like it. i started a pt. 2 already bc i just love axel but i also wanna write him in different scenarios as well! will open my requests asap :)
c.w.
s6pt2 spoilers, drinking.
being in barcelona was a dream. you were grateful that you were able to tag along with the miyagi do's. sensei larusso and sensei lawerence always liked you, especially johnny. being miguel's best friend is a privilege you were happy to have. sure, it came with a lot of drama but it also came with a protector, a group of friends, and some karate skills.
plus, being miyagi do's water girl wasn't a bad deal for being flown out to barcelona.
you were enjoying being on the inside of all the events while not needing to fight. the first couple of rounds you seen were intense. being around all these powerful people made you a little nervous but you had hope nothing terrible would happen like the rumble at west valley. these weren't angry teenagers fueled off drama and angst, they're athletes. aspiring professionals.
after miyagi do managed to stay in the game by the skin of their teeth, everyone was getting ready to go out. sam was talking your and devons ear off about spain and all the things her and miguel were going to do in their freetime when there was a knock at the door. you got up from your spot at the vanity and opened it to see miguel.
he was distressed, foot anxiously tapping with a hand through his hair. "is sam in here?"
"yeah, sam." you waved her over to the door. "you good, miggy?" miguel opened his mouth to speak and his eyes immediately welled up with tears. "what's wrong?"
"my mom..." his voice shook as he took sam in his arms for a hug. "something's wrong with the baby, i need to go back home." he spoke, voice muffled by sams hair.
"of course." you nodded. "is there anything we can do?"
he only shook his head and hugged sam harder.
"miguel." johnny said from the end of the hallway and beckoned him.
miguel let sam go and gave you a quick but tight hug before taking off. you and sam share an uneasy look before going back inside the room.
"miguel's going back home? sensei too?" devon asked and the two of you nodded.
"i need a drink." you said, grabbing your purse.
***
at the bar, everyone just seemed to take the gloominess with them. knowing miguel was struggling made it impossible to have fun.
"what are we going to do now that miguel's gone?" devon asked hawk and demitri.
"we could always have y/n take his spot?" hawk said, giving you a look over like he was sizing you up.
you scoffed. "yeah right, i wasn't even good enough to fight for a spot in the sekai tekai. getting my ass kicked on the world stage isn't on my bucket list."
"i'm serious." hawk said. "if they can't get kenny, you're next up. so don't black out this time." hawk pointed at your drink, remembering the time you got blackout drunk and threw up all over the inside of his car at one of moons parties.
"i'd prefer drunk y/n over kenny any day." demitri started. "at least she didn't shit her pants."
"oooookay." you stood up, taking your empty glass with you. "i'm getting another drink." you saw the way they were looking at you. "my last one. i don't think you guys will need me but if you do, i'll be ready. i promise."
you walked over to the bar, where sam and robby were sitting. "hey."
"hey." sam said and robby only nodded.
"what's with him?" you noticed robby's bad mood as soon as you walked up.
"maybe you can help." sam stood up, taking her cup with her. "i'm gonna go sit with the others for a sec, see if miguel still has service."
"okay." you nodded, taking sams spot at the bar. "what's wrong?"
"everything." robby sighed. "i need a drink."
you wanted to tell him not to, that it wouldn't solve anything but you knew that he already knew.
"get one, whatever you want. i got us for the first round." you took some cash from your pocket. "hey, can i get a mai tai and..."
"a rum and coke. double. please." robby asked and the bartender nodded, getting to work on your drinks.
"it's one of those nights, huh?" he only nodded, peering at the other edge of the bar for a moment before scoffing and turning back to you.
"yeah." you looked down to where he had just looked, to see tory and kwon sitting besided each other. kwon had an arm around her shoulders and was whispering something in her ear.
"i'm sorry robby. she's gonna come around, i know she is."
"i don't know. she's doing better without me." robby took a sip of his drink and looked down to where tory was sitting. kwon had separated from her but was still close. "and i'm here." he looked at his drink. "thanks by the way."
"it's not good to drink alone. especially when you're down." you nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "also, i missed out on the robby who smoked weed and skated everywhere. i hear he was kinda fun."
"i still skate everywhere." he said with a small laugh. "just not a skate rat anymore."
"yeah, you're the captain now." you gently nudged his shoulder. "i don't know how that feels exactly, the pressure, but i do know that you're gonna make everyone back home proud. especially tory."
"i hope so." he took another drink and eventually, his was gone.
"i know so. she's been watching every one of your fights."
robby cringed a little bit. "knowing i've lost every one of my fights definitely makes me feel lame."
"you're still in it. there's still tomorrow." you took another sip of your drink.
robby nodded. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom."
you nodded in return, looking over your shoulder to see hawk on his phone, sam and devon talking, and demitri dancing with a girl. when you turned back to where robby was sitting, kwon was in his seat.
"hi."
"hello." you were playing with your straw.
"what are you drinking?"
"a mai tai." your responses were dry but kwon wasn't backing off.
"do you want to dance?" he offered his hands but you shook your head, backing away a little.
"no, thanks."
"what? you're only miyagi do's little girlfriend? not for the rest of us?" kwon leaned in closer. "i can treat you better than keene."
"leave me alone, kwon."
"hey." robby's voice came from behind you.
kwon only scoffed and backed up. "someone's waiting for me anyways." he stood up. "i promise i'll keep her warm tonight, keene." he said before leaving the bar.
"are you okay?"
"i need some air." you stood up and went outside, leaving your friends at the bar. you felt bad for leaving robby alone but you couldn't be there anymore.
you felt the effects of the alcohol as you walked down to the beach. your head was spinning. you stopped and took a seat near the shore, sighing as you looked out to the water.
and then you saw him.
axel kovacevic.
he had been destroying his opponents on the mat. nobody's been able to land a point on him. he was one of the strongest competitors. he was stoic too, especially now as he was practicing his kata about 10 feet away from you. in the moonlight, by the ocean, with the alcohol making your perspective soft, he wasn't robotic. he was focused. until he caught you staring at him.
you made eye contact and immediately looked down at your lap. you waited about 5 seconds to check if he was still looking and he was full on staring. it was awkward. he wasn't looking at you as a threat, but with curiosity.
the two of you observed each other for a silent minute before you decided to say something. "hi." you waved and he didn't say anything in return. "you're axel right?" he nodded. "i'm y/n. i liked the kata you were doing."
"i'm not supposed to speak with opponent." he turned away from you and you stood up.
"i'm not your opponent. i'm not even fighting in the tournament. more like, emergency backup." you smiled, watching the corner of his lips tug upwards.
"why aren't you fighting?" he asked curiously, taking a step closer to you.
"i'm not really a fighter like my friends are." you shrugged. "you're great though."
"i'm alright." he leaned over to pick up his shirt and revealed bruises on his back. the sight made you wince.
"what happened?"
"bo staff competition."
"nobody has been able to land a point on you yet." you looked at him and he had a sort of an embarrassed look. "i know about... your sensei. one of my friends saw. it's not right. you should be out with your team, not practicing alone."
"there's always time for practice. my sensei wants me to be the best. it's because of him i never lose."
"doesn't make it right." you responded. "your entire dojo is pretty great though, i have to admit."
"you're pretty." axel stopped himself. your face was on fire and so was his. "your dojo's pretty good too."
"thanks. do you wanna walk with me? back to the hotel?" you asked, rocking on your heels. axel looked around and nodded and you both took off into the night.
"how long have you been fighting for?" you asked.
"ever since i was a kid. what about you?"
"only a couple years. after one of my friends got really hurt, i decided i had to get serious about learning. he had been teaching me some stuff but when it happened i just had to join a dojo. it was actually... cobra kai."
axel looked at you in disbelief. "you were in cobra kai?"
"yeah. after miguel got hurt, i was really angry and i took it out on everyone."
"miguel..."
"he was the original cobra kai." you remembered when miguel excitedly showed you his first gi. "it's a long story though. those sensei's, silver. they put me and all my friends through hell. so i know what its like to have a sensei do anything to make you the best, even hurt you."
axel couldn't say anything, he could only look at you with wonder. "is that why you don't fight anymore?"
"kind of. i don't know. i'm just not as angry as i used to be. i feel like my anger was the only reason i was ever good and i don't wanna live like that." you shrugged.
"i understand." he nodded. "i love karate but i don't want to be a robot all the time." you shook your head and opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted. "i hear what everyone says. they call me a monster, a machine. sometimes i just want to be axel." you nodded, this time you didn't have anything to say. "that's why i like to travel. i get to disappear in each city whenever i'm not fighting."
"how many cities have you been to?"
"a lot." he chuckled and listed all the cities and countries he's been to. you listened in awe. "what about you?"
"i've never really left california." you responded. "but after being here, i'd love to see everything. the sagrada familia makes me feel small but not in a scary way. it's like a monument to the great things humans can do."
"how cute!" a familiar voice interrupted. "little rival team playtime, huh?" kwon and another cobra kai came from around the corner. "thought you were only for miyagi do to play with."
"and i thought i told you to leave me alone." you tried to push past them but they blocked the path. you could smell the alcohol on kwons breath as he spoke. "just let us go."
"what's the magic word?" kwon asked, leaning in closer to you.
"move." you responded bluntly, not wanting anything else to do with this.
"wrong." kwon scoffed and shook his head. he glanced over your shoulder and you were sure someone was behind you.
"we just want to go back to the hotel." you weren't planning on giving kwon what he wanted.
"okay. you can go, only if you say please." kwon was in your face again, smug smile plastered on his face.
before you knew it, the other cobra kai kicked axel. it barely affected him as he shot into action to defend the both of you.
"come on, hit me. show me why they brought you here." kwon tapped his cheek and you were about to raise your arm when you were grabbed from behind. you elbowed whoever grabbed you multiple times before being able to slither out and kick him across the face. at the same time, axel shoved the other cobra kai into kwon. "okay come on. i'll take you both."
the sound of sirens took everyone but kwon out of the fight. he was still pressing axel and had to be taken away by his teammates.
"come on, let's go."
the two of you bolted back to the beach. after catching your breath, you started laughing a little.
"what?" axel asked.
"that guy kicked you and you barely moved. you have a strong base."
axel looked away from you, a smile spreading across his face. "thanks. that was a nice roundhouse."
"thanks, axel." you smiled at him and then looked out at the ocean. when you looked back at him, he was staring. no, he was admiring you. "what?"
axel said nothing, he only reached to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. his hand brushed against your face and you leaned into the touch.
and then he kissed you.
and you kissed him back. it was perfect. he was cradling your face with one hand, pulling you closer by your waist with the other. his mouth moved against yours softly and romantically. it was sweet. he didn't want anything other than to kiss you and you were happy to oblige and let yourself be putty in his hands.
but then your head started spinning again. you pulled away abruptly, taking a deep breath as you came up for air. the alcohol, the running, and the kissing were all making you dizzy. "axel i-."
"i'm sorry, i should go. already after curfew." axel took off running down the beach.
"wait, axel!" you called out after him but he was gone. you felt terrible as you went back inside the bar to meet with your team. everyone was already heading out and robby was nowhere to be seen. you figured he had went back to the hotel and hoped he would be fine. everyone else on the other hand would be dealing with their drama for a minute, including yourself.
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euniexenoblade · 1 day ago
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I debated if I wanted to mock this post/screenshot for a couple hours and i decided I was just gonna go in line by line and dissect it
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"being poly is a choice you make. not an identity you cannot change."
I disagree. I struggled with this through most of my teens and early twenties. The desire to be with multiple people was strong and the concept that I couldn't be with all of them was very confusing and hurtful not just to me, but the people I was with. Had I been taught what polyamory is younger and had known that monogamy is not actually the only way you're allowed to be, i'd have probably been able to stop struggling with this much sooner. Do I think this was as big of a mental struggle as being gay or trans? Nah. But it was certainly an issue that ate away at me.
As much as polyamory was a choice, so was me being trans was a choice. I would say both are inherent to who I am. Just because something isn't inherent to your identity, doesn't mean it isn't inherent to mine.
The second paragraph is a gross misinterpretation of what was said. I said abused poly people in relationships they cannot escape will likely cheat when they do find love. The same is true for monogamous people who cannot escape relationships. This happens all the fucking time. To women. To gay people. To trans people. To poly people. This is so utterly common it's an overused trope in story telling.
"OBVIOUSLY abusive situations aside"
The post was about abusive situations. You're already throwing away the core concept to the post.
"why are you staying with someone you are completely incompatible with"
This shows how this person has no value for relationships. Just because you realize you're poly doesn't mean your feelings for an individual disappears. You want to see if this relationship can still work, whether monogamous or polyamorous. Not to mention so many people would find themselves homeless or penniless by just leaving. There's no actual understanding of love and relationships and the heart here.
"you don't need to pursue any kind of relationship ever"
And gay people don't have to be in gay relationships. Trans people don't have to transition. Doesn't change the longing to experience what you want to experience.
"where exclusivity is agreed upon"
I know poly people who entered relationships under the premise the other person was poly, just for that person to decide "actually I'm monogamous, and I'll kill myself if you leave me." You have no understanding or empathy.
"wanting to be poly does not excuse cheating what is wrong with you people"
Look I agree cheating sucks and violates trust, but acting like it's the worst thing in the history of ever is just childish. I get it hurts but at the end of the day, you do not own another person's body and sometimes shit happens. I just do not care what other people do with their own bodies and you cannot make me believe I'm supposed to care. If my husband goes and fucks someone without my permission (which he commonly does) then that's rad. I hope he has fun. If my wife goes and fucks someone I don't know (which she regularly does) then fuck yeah I hope they both had fun. Y'all are too fucking uptight.
Also the tags
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The "monogamous people are losers and shouldn't get a say in anything" was something I said in reply to a heckler on my 'monogamous people often abuse poly partners' post. To take it solely as 100% serious opinion is foolish and childish.
"I cheated cuz waaa"
I've never cheated on any partner. The post isn't even saying it's ok cheat, it's saying that poly people get branded as cheaters whether they do or don't. But I'll say it here just because it's so controversial that it pisses losers off: it's ok for polyamorous people to cheat on monogamous partners. Get out before they abuse you.
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ceilidho · 2 days ago
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Me: I don't like fauxcest so I'll avoid the tag/ block any accounts.
Also me: I want a daddy Dom who's really big on being a prodiver, probably got daddy issues himself, is an older man and financially secure. Makes sure I'm fed, well dressed and happy. Maybe even makes me live with him so he can just freeuse me and have something to look after because he just really wants to-
Like. I know it ain't the same but everyday it feels like it's borderline treading into that territory and idk if I can face myself or have the strength to accept that about myself. Like I use to be a puritan prude in my youth so the fact I ended up with a daddy kink would make my teen self disgusted. But ya know, shit happens.
I probably won't ever pass over that territory as I do get icked out by the idea of referring to a sexual partner as 'dad' or anything like that. So it's clearly not for me but I need some people to look at themselves TRUELY look at the stuff they're into or want in a partner coz probably like me, they are one kink/good fic/wild fantasy away from the "gross icky kinks!!" They wanna ban so much
Ever since I became an adult and started exploring what I like, letting myself read fics I was like "I'm not gonna like this but I'm desperate for content" and then come out of a changed person - I do start caring less. Do I still have my own opinions and icks and such? Yeah but like, the best thing about the Internet is that you can just block tags, block people or images that don't agree with you. Keep to your bubble of people who agree with you and such, but like, if you're not atleast aware or open to the fact your views may be hypercritical or even abit weird or taboo yourself - that's just destined to fail.
I think a lot of people can't separate identity from interests either, or they feel incredibly locked in with their identity.
like, you're allowed to find things gross, block them, or enjoy reading certain topics but only to an extent (like you won't allow yourself to enjoy anything beyond your limit because you're scared about what you'll uncover about yourself). it's also fine to one day come back to those same things and reevaluate your original opinion.
I'm not sure how to describe this but I feel like a lot of people have this tendency to equate any Thing they enjoy with subsuming that thing into their personality/identity, and if you think that way, then obviously any potential interest seems like a Threat to the persona/identity you've been meticulously building your entire life. which is terrifying! i do understand that there's a large group of people that probably equate reading/enjoying any content that's remotely dark to a real life want.
I personally think the most generous thing you can do for yourself is say "okay, I enjoyed that. it doesn't have to mean anything." you can read the kinkiest erotica ever and then go on to enjoy a vanilla sex life (or no sex life! tons of asexual people enjoy erotica). it simply doesn't have to be a big deal.
and this is also not saying you have to enjoy or force yourself to enjoy content that disgusts you. the brain is just complex. if you're living life in a way that is compassionate and avoids causing harm to other people, but some of your interests/kinks tend to veer towards the dark/taboo, just give yourself the grace to realize that an interest is not this Big, Horrible thing that'll destroy you and turn you into something monstrous.
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simp-ly-writes · 2 days ago
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Professionals
─────── · · A Black Ops 6 FanFic
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Pairing: Russell Adler x Fem!Spy!Reader
─ · · SUMMARY: You are a MI6 spy with a secret mission different to what the CIA has requested you for; using your information gathering expertise, you pose as Russell Adlers wife as the both of you go undercover abroad, the catch? MI6 wants to know everything about your "husband" just as much as you do.
─ · · TAGS: no use of (y/n), non-canon compliant, flirting, use of pet names, teasing, fluff.
─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,607
─ · · A/N: I always wanted to try and make one of those series that stems off into prompts and scenarios so use this chapter as the basis! 😊 (I hope this somewhat makes sense lol).
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Monday Night | MI6 Agency, London
It was one of the few nice nights of the year yet here you were sat inside your Directors office. A couple dozen high ranking officers swarming around you, the room tense in wait as the leather of your seat groaned as you took a seat.
One thing happened after another, a team was preparing your looks, another briefing you on culture, customs and speech. You had worked for the secret intelligence service for over two and a half decades, starting right out of university yet had never experienced something quite like this in all your history. All you could do is nod along.
"He'll be sat there waiting when you arrive. He is CIA, Clandestine special officer. A full report will be sent to your room when you arrive, deployment immediately. You are dismissed, officer," was all you gathered from your Director before you were being followed out into a car, your belongings already packed for you, ring box sitting heavy between your hands in your lap. You couldn't find it in you to open it.
"You ready, (last/name)?" one of your fellow operators, Bill asked you, driving the car another office sat shotgun, so much security... you think to yourself, worried for what the hell kind of a mission they were sending you on and with who of all people?
"What am I not ready for?" you ask back, faking confidence yet feeling frustrated by the lack of information you were receiving before going overseas and acting as a double-agent.
"Well, from knowing you, marriage," he chuckles, fixing the rear-view mirror as you shuffle around in the backseat. It was obviously meant to be a joke to cheer you up yet the word marriage rung through your head, echoing on repeat.
"Well it's not like I'm actually gonna get married, Bill. Just got to look all pretty, get the information, and get the hell out. The ring is just another thing of the disguise at the end of the day," you reply with nonchalance before opening the ring box- immediately regretting so as you stare at the most gorgeous ring you could ever dream of.
What the fuck, is all you can mutter underneath you breath before Bill is pulling into a parking sport at the airport. The other officer already running around back to the truck, unloading your gear. Bill lets out a long low whistle after seeing the ring.
"Well, everyone's going to know your a taken woman with that rock on your finger." You flip Bill the finger, placing the ring onto your left hand before throwing the box into your handbag and stepping out of the car. A plane waits for you on the tarmac, engines already roaring and with one wave back to the boys, you are off up in the air on on your way to America.
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Tuesday Morning | Hotel, Washington, D.C.
When arriving to the "Land of Freedom," you quickly hailed a cab to your to-be-shared hotel room for the next few days. Your boss mentioned it as a speed, "get-to-know one another" meeting but in your eyes it would be the opportunity to get the upper hand on information.
Your mission was simple, do the missions the CIA wanted you in, provide them with the information they wanted all the while taking what your agency wanted- who exactly is Russell Adlers and what the hell they were doing with brainwashing.
You were surprised to see how many lanes of traffic there were on your want to the hotel room and once arriving to the five-star hotel, staff members were there awaiting your arrival, "Mrs. Adler, please allow me to hold your belongings and bring them up to your room for you. An assortment of breakfast has been prepared at your husbands request and will arrive in 30 minutes."
White gloves swiftly took your baggage from out of the trunk another holding the door open for you both before leading you up to your room. Deep stained hardwood made your heels click against its surface in tune with the live performance piano. You took in the dazzling crystal chandeliers of the lobby with its panelled walls and luscious plants. The elevator was glass with a gold banister that you leaned upon, examining every exist and staff member positioned for the "just-in-case" that came with the job.
With a ding, you were up to the ninth floor and lead down a cosy lit hallway before being presented with your keycard. A white glove motioned to the scanner before holding the door open for you to enter first.
The room was moody and romantic just as the lobby was fit with golden accents, walls in that signature wood paneling, and floor finished in a plush cream carpet. A kitchenette, small living space and bed set with fresh white sheets and a few too many pillows off to another room set within the suite. You were impressed to say the least once hearing the last of your luggage be placed within the room.
"Is there anything else we could assist you with Mrs. Adler?" the staff member asks, eyes hanging onto your every word- eager to help. You smiled at the young man before shaking your head with a smile. A strand of your hair falling out of place in doing so. "No, I am quite alright. Thank you for your work, I'll be sure to make my husband reward your service this morning." And with that, the door closed behind you as you took in the silence of the space before going digging.
Grabbing your gloves from your purse on the counter you opened every drawer and cranny, looking underneath every piece of furniture in the main room before heading towards the bedroom. The singular bed mocked you as the white sheets glistened through the sunlight peaking through the sheer curtains.
A singular small suitcase sat on an armchair that faced the bed. Delicately zipping it open you took apart its components yet finding nothing out of the ordinary, not a sloppy worker, you praised your "husband" before placing a small tracker into one of the open seams.
Standing back up and looking outside the reflection of another body behind you had you freezing in the moment. A tall man stood behind you by the outline of his broad shoulders, your eyes flickered between the two of you in the reflection. His voice casting goosebumps across your skin before you were reining yourself in, remember who you are, remember what the job is, remember-
"Hello, Sweetheart. Anything your looking for in particular?"
Shit. You turned around, casting a quick signature smile before slowly taking off your gloves and walking over to the side table. You felt his stare watching as you moved around the room as you took a seat on the corner of the bed.
"Just making sure that my husband was leaving me with no surprises after all you do know how much your wife hates them so," you retort now taking your time to stare. You took in the loafers he wore, freshly polished and leather matching the belt looping through pressed dress pants with the collared shirt he wore, a pair of aviators hanging from the unbuttoned part of his shirt.
His muscles bulged from the sleeves, veins casting up from his fingertips and up to his neck, beard freshly shaven and fitting the classy affluent couple look you both were assigned. Your eyes stopped at his face, watching as his head tilted in a silent demand for you to dare ask about the scar running up from his cheek to his nose.
"Already getting protective of me?" Adler teases catching your ring finger twitch at the name with a smirk.
You didn't appreciate him already trying to be above you, "the papers never said my husband would be handsome. How could they leave such an important part out?" you smile, your words genuine but the way in which you cross your legs after saying it as your husband raising a brow before rolling his eyes.
"I'm not the one you're trying to charm over. Save it for when we get overseas, I'm sure they'll enjoy it more-"
"And you didn't enjoy me calling you handsome?" you press forwards watching Adler roll his shoulders before scoffing. "I know I am, didn't need you to say it."
You gasp playfully, standing to tease more of his personality out of him but before you can reach Adler has your wrist in a firm yet gentle grip, cautious of his own strength. "I'm not going to break if you hold me so gently, Mr. Adler."
"Well, Mrs. Adler. If you think I'm going to get handsy you're wrong. Take the bed tonight, I'll settle on the couch."
Breakfast arrived shortly after your teasing match and while eating you appreciated that Adler did in fact hold table manners. Always making sure your coffee and water was filled yet apparently it was a step too far in asking for a bite off his plate as he waved you off.
It was the first day of a mission that you did not know when it would end but as you laid there in the cold sheets listening to Adler hum along to something on the radio before taking a drag from his cigarette. There was the smallest part of you hopeful that he would not hate you after all of this that became overshadowed by the job and everything you had at stake. There was no question but being the utmost professional.
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─ · · A/N: what did you think?? 👀 I've got some ideas of Adler finding out you have a side mission, introducing you to members of the team, missions gone wrong-AH! So many ideas, let me know if any of these stand out! 😄💕
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ghouljams · 14 hours ago
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I know every fandom has it's fair share of "incest"(not sure if thats the correct term) but it seems like the cod fandom has it so much more than the other popular ones
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I mean maybe I'm not 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 enough and I know every person has their own turn ons and off but it can't be just me who thinks this is weird/cod fandom has like so much more of it (and I have been on the internet for a good 8+ years and have been deep in fandoms)
(idk maybe I'm just rambling out of my ass because I have ocd and intrusive thoughts place my own family members the moment I say words about a family)
Omg hi friend!
First of all I want to say that I'm glad you asked because I've actually been thinking about this!
I have a major(MAJOR) turn off for actual incest in fanfiction. Maybe because I lived through homestuck and people fucking love incest in that fandom, but I cannot read it without getting squicked out. Faux-cest though doesn't seem to give me the same problem and I think it's because there's always an undercurrent of "this is pretend" when done right, it feels porn-y, fake. I think it's because (in my mind) faux-cest falls under the "humiliation/degradation" kink, there's an overt power dynamic there that feels... different from actual incest fics.
Which also? The amount of people who have DDlg/MDlb kinks in this fandom is insane. Every day I see people calling Price "daddy" and I just... I'm gonna be so honest with y'all I hate seeing "daddy" in a fic, I don't mind caretaker doms but I just can't get into age play or the uwu cutesy way some of those fics go. But that's just me.
All that to give me some credibility in telling you: I don't think it's the cod fandom at large, but maybe just the writers who all follow each other and seem to get the same brain worms at the same time(I am guilty of this).
I think for some people there's an element of "I just figured out how to write this kink and I'm making it everyone's problem" and for others it's a "this seems popular at the moment let me throw my hat in the ring." Personally I had a faux-cest dream that I didn't particularly enjoy, honestly felt more like a nightmare, but I figured other people would see kink in the horrific so I popped it up on the blog.
Anyway I don't think you have to be "freaky enough" or even put yourself through reading a kink you don't enjoy, there's a reason I've been putting trigger tags on all the faux-cest stuff! I want people to be able to filter it out. Hell, a lot of it squicks me out, and I've written some of it. I don't really see it as any more prevalent in the cod fandom than others though. I mean every fandom has a decent portion that jump straight to incest stuff, you may have just managed to avoid it fairly well.
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sakura-chan-25 · 22 hours ago
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Thanks for the tag <3
I'm gonna be the weird one here, my five favorite songs are from Epic the Musical
(No particular order)
1) The Horse and the Infant
2) Ruthlessness
3) God Games
4) Open Arms
5) Scylla
And so many more :')
I don't even know ten people, so I'm just gonna tag a few, don't have to do it if you don't want to: @belphieslilcow @pridesson / @ahaclownnoises @acupofqueercoffee @rainiishowers
Tagged by @world-of-hearts love any excuse to share my favorite songs 🤭 but why only 5 😔
tag game: share 5 of your favorite songs & tag 10 people 🎵
1. ESCAPE - (G)I-DLE
2. Lovedrunk - Epik High
3. Different - Woodz
4. idfc - blackbear (Tarro Remix deserves special mention, but all versions are my faves)
5. Say You'll Be Mine - Rockell
No pressure, but tagging @rose-tinted-kalopsia @unluckywisher @callilypso @nerdyladyrebel @yourlocalcatscammer @lavlynyan @miudle @nezukoo-channn @irandial @an-ever-angry-bi + anyone else who wants to join 💖
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deesseshesca · 23 hours ago
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PAC : If I were to drop a viral TikTok, what would it be about? (Tipsy edition)
Is my red flag era making a comeback ?
ALL READING ON SALE (70% OFF) (BLACK FRIDAY OFFER)
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PILE 1
Bestie, your viral TikTok would totally be you serving main character energy while spilling some major tea about your glow-up. Picture this: you start with a montage of your “before” era—sad, stuck, whatever—and then BAM, you hit us with the ultimate transition. The vibe? “I’m not who I was, and thank God for that.”
It’s raw, real, and dripping with "soft life" energy. The caption? Something like, “POV: You stop resisting change and start thriving.” Everyone’s gonna eat it up because it’s not just aesthetic—it’s giving phoenix rising from the ashes. Comments? Full of people saying, “I needed this,” and “Girl, you just inspired my rebrand.” Iconic. ✨
PREVIOUS READING
2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)
3) ALL READING ON SALE (70% OFF) (Recent review 🎀)
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PILE 2
Bestie, your viral TikTok? Oh, it’s definitely a “secure the bag” moment. Picture this: you casually flexing your savings, investments, or something lowkey bougie you worked hard for, like a designer bag or a cute lil apartment glow-up.
The vibe is “I'm not just collecting things, I’m building my empire.” The audio? Something sassy like “I’m not lucky, I’m disciplined.” And in the caption, you’re like, “POV: You stopped overspending on vibes and started saving for your future.”
The comments? Full of people tagging their friends with “We need to be like her.” Manifesting rich girl energy! 💸
PREVIOUS READING
2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)
3) ALL READING ON SALE (70% OFF) (Recent review 🎀)
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PILE 3
Girl, your viral TikTok would be pure drama and icon behavior. Imagine this: you start with the wildest montage of your life falling apart—like messy breakups, bad decisions, or that one time everything just went WRONG. Then, BAM, you hit us with the ultimate comeback moment.
It’s giving “Yeah, I lost it all, but look at me now.” The caption? “POV: The breakdown was just the plot twist for my glow-up.” Everyone in the comments will be shook, like “Sis, HOW did you bounce back like that?!” Total queen vibes. 👑
PREVIOUS READING
2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)
3) ALL READING ON SALE (70% OFF) (Recent review 🎀)
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localsharkcryptid · 1 day ago
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Okay, making an interesting post here BUT I'm working on throwing together a DSMP Roleplay/Hangout server - I wanna make more friends but genuinely I suck at communicating here on Tumblr, and honestly I don't think I've seen any roleplay servers from dreblr/the cDream side of here? Regardless I want to meet and interact with people finally in a setting where I'm more comfortable so I'm making it myself.
And basically I want to ask what people might want to see out of this? I intend for the server to work as a place for general chatting and fandom related things as well as being a roleplay center for those who do so or would like to try doing it! So there's gonna be a general chatting section and a roleplay section (potentially using forums so people can have their own chat rooms n all) at the minimum - I'm considering opening up the idea of an AU related section? One so people could roleplay ideas that don't take place on the DSMP itself- idk I kinda want to get ideas and an interest check- so here we are.
Additional Note About This:
For this server - We're treating the fictional characters as fictional characters and I swear to god I may make being an asshole to others over ships if mentioned a bannable offence. I'm a multishipper as people know and I won't tolerate y'all out there who get bitchy over people shipping c!Techno or anyone else for that matter in my house. As long as it's legal who cares. Like actually.
In a similar vein to that, c!Wilbur is also in that boat, he's a fictional character and I will hit people with a stick if every five minutes they feel the need to do the whole "but fuck the CC" or something - you don't need to bring it up at ALL.
(I don't mean to seem overtly aggressive here but I want to be VERY firm on this being a chill/safe space to just enjoy these characters and the story, meaning no drama bullshit, no stupid fights over people wanting the pig to kiss men etc.)
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yellow-computer-mouse · 1 day ago
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i just spilled our entire fucking guts to our friends. two of them. and i'm so fucking glad i did.
big angry vent under the cut
we sit with a whole big friend group at lunch. it's:
us
R
D
G
N
K
about a week, maybe week-and-a-half ago, R, D, and G left. we didn't know where they went. it was just us, N, and K. we thought maybe they were doing catch-up, or eating with a teacher, or doing club stuff.
yesterday, we found out that they were sitting with a different friend group. this consists of:
A (also our friend, she's great)
E (SHE'S FUCKING RACIST????? 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕)
O (G has a crush on her)
now, we've been friends with them for ages. they are our closest friends. we'd trust them with our fucking life.
they didn't tell us.
they never bothered to tell us.
N and K were kind of othered by them. K's too much or whatever. talks too loud. is too enthusiastic. doesn't read the room. you know. BEING THEMSELF.
N just.. never really meshed. i think. i dunno.
R, D, and G left a bit after N and K started sitting down. about 2 days after N came down with us.
In those two days, we had brought up a lot of stuff casually. not directly at R, D, or G, but it wasn't like we were hiding it. we talked about our plurality especially (kind of, using plural terms and saying stuff like "grant likes this, jim does this, no way daisuke just left," etc)
we had finally started to let our walls down. we're very guarded, because we're anxious. some stuff happened with R about 2 years ago, and we've been really worried about being "too much" or inconsiderate and scaring them away. we were letting our walls down and opening up.
and they left.
and they NEVER FUCKING TOLD ME.
we started this fucking friend group. we befriended R in 4th-6th grade. (i considered her a friend in 4th, but she didn't until 6th- whatever, not the point, that's fine /gen) we brought D into it in 6th. WE STARTED A GRADE-WIDE GAME.
i brought N in during 6th.
7th, G.
8th, K.
I BUILT THIS FUCKING FRIEND GROUP FRM THE GROUND UP.
AND THEY FUCKING LEFT.
[plain text: AND THEY FUCKING LEFT.]
AND THEY DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME.
[plain text: AND THEY DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME.]
they're their own people. they're allowed to have other friends. they're allowed to not want to sit with me anymore. hell, they're allowed to not want to be friends anymore!! it would SUCK, but it would be better to know for sure.
all i want is them to TELL ME. they don't tell me a lot of stuff. 2 years ago, i had to make a rule that we don't keep secrets, because they just. didn't. TELL ME.
about a month ago, i was talking about something and getting upset. and R started BABY-TALKING ME. and she does this a lot!!! and like, there's a thin line between calm voice and babytalk. and that's fine! so i told her, and i told her it was bothering me, and she deflected "oohhh, i'm imitating one of our teachers" NO YOU'RE NOT????? NO YOU FUCKING WEREN'T
and it's fine!!! we told her a thousand times that we weren't mad, we just wanted to let her know because it was bothering us.
and it just. UGHH. i dunno. this long-ass rant means:
as soon as we started opening up and letting down our walls, they left. and they didn't tell us. and that makes us think it's something WE DID.
and we were talking about this at lunch with N and K. and we brought up- no, STRAIGHT-UP TOLD THEM ABOUT:
alterhumanity
our plurality
age regression
we had never brought this up before. and they were so great about it. N and K, i'm gonna tag you in this post. y'all mean the world to me. <3 <3 <3 <3
R, D, G? i dunno. not tagging you guys. if you guys see this, listen:
I am not mad. No matter how this reads, I am not mad. I'm hurt. I'm so fucking hurt that you just left. And you didn't tell me. If you don't want to be friends, say so. If you do? SAY SO. TELL ME THINGS. I'm the same age as you. Do you have a problem with N or K? Do you have a problem with me? I DUNNO! BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!!
I'm not mad. I just want to know why you left, and why you didn't tell me. I still want to be friends. You guys are my closest friends!!!
that's all. vent over.
Sincerely, Dust. Your resident anger holder.
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moonyasnow · 2 days ago
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Ok I'm making a change to Veronica's backstory
You know her teacher Miss Averesch? The human teacher who taught her how to control her temper better (at least with her friends) and was the closest thing she ever had to a mother(that she can remember)?
I've decided that instead of just leaving, Miss Averesch was killed by someone. Specifically in a hate-crime against humans in Briar Valley.
And some other students (whom she'd been friends with and was on good terms with) ended up also being killed, for being witnesses.
Veronica wasn't there because she was away running an errand for Miss Averesch.
Here's the new version:
Miss Averesch actually taught a class for students where no magic teaching was involved. It was meant for magicless students like Veronica (of which there were very few) or other students who had good enough grades to get into the school, but not the magical aptitude recquired. A 'general studies' class, basically.
Though one day at the age of 13 in the middle of a lesson, a man living nearby who was very against a human teaching at one of the best school's in Briar Valley, holding a great grudge due to having lost people dear to him at the hands of humans, snuck into the school to kill Averesch. And as the rest of her class was there...well, he wanted no witnesses.
At the time, Veronica was in the city, getting a few materials Miss Averesch had asked someone to buy. And being her little helper, Veronica volunteered.
When she came back to the school, the building her class was supposed to be in was dead quiet. No one answered when she called out that she was back and apologized for taking so long— she got a little distracted looking at some pretty fabric. Then when she went towards the classroom, the door was open, which was unusual, since Miss Averesch liked to always keep it closed during lessons.
When she went closer and saw a drop of dark red on the floor, the panic set in.
She was afraid to go into the classroom.
But she did anyway.
The scream she let out alerted nearby authorities.
She developed a lot of survivor's guilt after this incident, since she was the only one who survived. She also feels guilty about not being able to do anything, and feels like it's her fault for not being there, that she might have been able to prevent their deaths. She was the only one among them who had any experience with a weapon, and she'd even said that she'd try to protect the others if it was ever necessary, but she couldn't do anything.
She often asks herself what would have happened if she hadn't volunteered to go purchase those supplies, or if she'd gotten back just a little bit earlier.
And all other teachers at the school, including the new teacher of her class, looking down at her for being a magicless half-fae, Veronica knowing they thought she would never be anywhere near as good as the other students at said school, meant that now more than ever, she had something to prove.
This was actually the original version of her backstory— I just changed it because I thought it might be too edgy. But I've realized that, her once again failing to protect people she cared about and had even promised she'd protect, and how it impacted her ability to trust people, how it added to her protective side, and gave her survivor's guilt, is a vital part of her backstory.
She's just not the same without it.
So uh yeah!
I'm changing her backstory! And I'm gonna update Veronica's Showcase post to include that
Tag list: @another-random-paradise @thehollowwriter @faefum @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @beneathsakurashade
@nyx-of-night @theolivetree123 @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @screamintoad
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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 days ago
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Hi! If you feel inspired, maybe “Why can’t I say ‘no’ to you?” with hangman, Bruce Wayne, or Josh Lyman please? I just love the way you write them! No pressure :)
“I’m weak for you.” Prompts
Sure thing, nonnie! This screamed Josh to me :D
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You're not blind to the speculative look Donna casts you as you head for Josh's door. You can't blame her—this is the fifth time a week that she's seen you there. You give her a small wave before you knock on Josh's closed door.
"Yeah," You hear.
You opened your door, poking your head in and smiling.
"Pssst."
You see his head shift just a touch, but his focus remains on the stack of papers on his desk.
"Pssst!" You hiss again.
"Would you—!" He looks up, and you can't help but smile at his incensed frown. "Just come in, it's not like people can't see you standing in the doorway."
"Take a walk with me."
"I'm busy."
"You're always busy. C'mon, it'll clear your head. Un-grump you a little bit."
Josh doesn't move for a moment before he pushes away from his desk. You can't help your smug smile as he presses past you on the way out the door, a hollow insistence of, "I'm not grumpy," dropping from his lips. You follow with a smile, half-jogging to catch up with him.
"Got a real fire lit under your ass today, Lyman."
"Whaddayou want."
"Are you up against a deadline that I don't know about?"
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"You're drawing this out, you're taking this all out of order."
"There's an order?" You laugh.
"Yes, there's an order," Josh insists as the two of you turn into the hall. "You come in, say, Josh, I need a favor. I tell you that I can't do you a favor right now, I'm full up, I'm slammed. Then you bat your pretty eyelashes at me—"
"You think my eyelashes are pretty?"
"—And I crumble because I'm your favorite sucker—"
"You're nobody's sucker, Josh, least of all mine—"
"And then you get whatever you want because I can't say no to you! God, why can’t I say ‘no’ to you?”
Your steps slow and stop as Josh's tone rises, his hands combing through his hair, your mouth dropping open in surprise as he paces away. He seems to come his senses a few moments later, sighing heavily as he turns back. White House staffers flow around you, Josh's impromptu outburst hardly interrupting their traffic. You curl your arms around yourself as you finally manage to close your mouth, and clear your throat.
"I was just um...I was gonna buy you a coffee," You admit softly. "I know I've been asking a lot of you lately, so, um."
You can see Josh nodding in your periphery.
"...Josh, I'm gonna ask you for one more favor, and then I'm gonna leave you alone."
"Okay."
"And you don't have to do this—"
"Right."
"Take me out on Friday."
"I—What?"
You bite your lip, hesitantly raising your eyes to Josh. His irritation has melted to a sweet, gobsmacked look, lips parted in surprise, brows arching toward his hairline.
"Take me out on Friday," You repeat, taking a step closer to him.
"Why would you want me to do that?"
"Because I like you....And you can't say no to me, apparently. Are you gonna start now?"
Josh's eyes search yours for a few moments before he gives his head a small shake.
"No. I mean," His eyes squeeze shut with a wince, "Not no—"
"Uh-huh," You smile.
"I mean that I'm not going to start saying—"
"I know."
"Okay."
"Friday?"
"Yeah."
You nod slowly, stepping around Josh. "Coffee still sound good to you?"
"Yeah," Josh turns to join you, falling into quiet, steady step.
"...You know you can say no to me. If you want. Just because I ask—"
"Yeah, technically, yeah."
"Not technically. I think if you really put your mind to it, you could manage."
"Sure."
"...You really think my eyelashes are pretty?" You cast him a sly, sidelong smile, grinning as a flush creeps into his cheeks.
"Think some other things are pretty, too," He admits in a mumble.
"Really? Like what?"
"I'll tell you on Friday."
Tag list: @nominalnebula @massivecolorspygiant @winchestershiresauce @kmc1989
@thembosapphicclown @lorecraft @brandyllyn @missredherring @amneris21
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deathandthesoul · 1 day ago
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Six Song Soundtrack Game
I was tagged by @crownedinmarigolds (thank you!) and then proceeded to spend 6 hours on it like a normal person 🫡 Gonna do both Aidan and Jesse for this. It's 2 characters so it's long so I'm putting it under a cut
I'm gonna tag @heksen-sabbat @lealdog @mournwatch @thuumwrestler @pocketgoth
@vampiricsheep @malignantverse
Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following…
Aidan Evans
Event that defines your character's past:
Dog Fashion Disco - A Corpse is a Corpse
And though you try and try and try to pull me down It's all been lies it's lies begat the lies again I'm not afraid, afraid of dying anymore Only I can set me free So turn and blame but don't you fuckin look at me Decompose, you maggot Now you'll shut the fuck up
How your character sees themselves:
Shiv-R - Shadow with a Voice
youtube
Shadow with a voice Shadow made of noise Life beyond all light Fire from the void Feels no emotion In the dark it evolved Just a programmed compulsion (a destructive compulsion) Singularity falls (code)
How others view them:
Angelspit - Hidden Knife (flashing at end of the video)
youtube
The beast in your head is wearing you like meat Slips you on to impress tears you off to breed It knows what to say, coiled to strike Get the smell of blood, feel the black dog bite Always in shadow One step behind you Left hand, holds a flower Hidden knife in the other
Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic):
Måneskin - The Driver
youtube
If you're gonna set fire to the night Baby, let me be the lighter If you're already high and you wanna fly I'll be the hit that takes you higher If you wanna love when you touch the sky You can be my midnight rider If there's nowhere to go and you wanna go wild I wanna be the driver
A major fight scene:
Shiv-R - The Moth Collector
youtube
Control Makes you feel so high Pulling wings off flies Inflict the pain that’s been done unto you So small Pretty and refined You study their design Watch their life evaporate because of you
End credits song:
Dog Fashion Disco - Private Eye
I'm The private eye Hot on your trail The top gun for hire You'll find me lurking in the shadows Always searching for a clue I'm the bulletproof detective I got my eye on you
Jesse Steele
Event that defines your character's past:
Brigade Werther - North + South
youtube
No cries, just silent noise The crash impacts my voice No rush to learn my fate Insight to contemplate The scars don't hurt no more Your blood still paints the floor Their loss no more in force It's time, I'm heading north
How your character sees themselves:
Adema - Waiting For Daylight
youtube
When all the people settle down and all the alcohol runs out I'll just sit here by myself (Waiting for) Each and every soul's worn thin, all the walls are closing in (Waiting for) Wishing I was someone else (Waiting for) Waiting for the daylight to come
How others view them:
3TEETH - Pumped Up Kicks
Robert's got a quick hand He'll look around the room, he won't tell you his plan He's got a rolled cigarette Hanging out his mouth, he's a cowboy kid Yeah, he found a six-shooter gun In his dad's closet, in the box of fun things I don't even know what But he's coming for you, yeah, he's coming for you
Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic):
Saint Motel - Cold Cold Man
Oh my love I know I am a cold cold man Quite slow to pay you compliments Or public displayed affections But baby don't you go overanalyze No need to theorize I can put your doubts to rest
A major fight scene:
Metallica - All Nightmare Long
youtube
'Cause we hunt you down without mercy Hunt you down all nightmare long Feel us breathe upon your face Feel us shift, every move we trace Hunt you down without mercy Hunt you down all nightmare long, yeah Luck runs out You crawl back in, but your luck runs out
End credits song:
Kenny Loggins - Danger Zone
youtube
Out along the edges Always where I burn to be The further on the edge The hotter the intensity Highway to the Danger Zone Gonna take it right into the Danger Zone Highway to the Danger Zone Ride into the Danger Zone
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takealookatmycrabclaw · 2 days ago
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The first part is not something that would offend me personally, like if someone is online and im talking to them, i don't expect them to sit around and wait for a response, especially when it's something you're posting. So it makes sense that they scrolled on tumblr a bit and found something funny. That was 100% nitpicking.
My point was that they answered to the best of their ability. And what they said was "I'm not educated enough to speak on this." (basic reading between the lines challenge)
What they said was "I don't know specifically what was wrong with the pixel animations, so I'm not going to speak on it, so I will say that there's not going to be any of that specific thing for the people who are sensitive to that." Since they didn't know what specifically was troubling with the pixel animations and didn't make an assumption or something, they just said that there won't be anytime soon so the people who are, won't be scared to watch it. It's a pretty normal response tbh. And that whole "imagone if it was a common trigger thing" only made it sound more normal tbh. And comparing a knife trigger to flashing lights is insane and if anything more ableist than what Joan did. One is life threatening and the other is not. Bffr.
Which is basically the reason why there was no proper apology or explanation bc (This can't be reiterated enough) THEY WERE NOT QUALIFIED TO SPEAK ON IT. THEY WERENT GONNA SPEAK ON SOMETHING THAT THEY DIDNT KNOW ABOUT!!!!
And the whole thing with "this is what joan SHOULD HAVE SAID" is literally the same thing they said. The only thing you added was "ill do research" and "well properly tag it". Like yeah adding those 2 things would've been beneficial but speculating on whether or not Joan is ableist bc they didnt add 2 sentences is so chronically online.
As for Joan being apart of the channel as much as Thomas was, is somewhat true but I'm gonna disagree with you on this because they were not running the channel, Thomas was. Idk i dont really care about this part. The most they could've done was talk to Thomas, which is why this should've been brought up with Thomas. But I understand why going to Joan is better bc Thomas ignores any critisim he gets anyways and it would definitely not be addressed.
Wait whatd joan do
i don't have direct proof of it anymore (since they deleted their blog and i didn't save screenshots, but I can ask my friends if they still have them), but when people brought up the very real and important issue about there being flashing and other photo sensitive things in SvS Part 2 and no warning (which is, yknow, a health problem, bc epilepsy and other photosensitive things exist, like migraines), they posted something very dismissive in reply and Immediately reblogged something about "let patton say fuck" to distract everyone. and it was like. instant.
i wish i had the screenshot now to look at it again but god it made me and others angry
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literallyjusttoa · 6 months ago
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"Sunny!" you cry, "Why did you draw the entire Trojan royal family from oldest to youngest in two days? That seems wildly unhealthy!"
"hurghhhhhhhh" I reply.
Anyways here's the full family portrait
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(Only four of these people survive the Trojan war btw :D)
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