#cause man it looks way better in real life

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

The Salesman | SFW alphabet + being obsess with his wife

Can be read as part of this

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Warnings: Parts with Suggestive things - Obsess!Salesman - Wife!Reader - Possessive!Salesman - Grammar mistakes -

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

The Salesman its not someone who usually shows affection or gets said feeling towards anyone. In fact for most years he thought he was unable to feel such a thing.

But then you came into his life and shattered that thought. He ended stalking you around Seoul, getting to know you before he did a first approach. He called it fazynation at first, but when he finally got to know you for real he fell hard for you.

His ways of showing affection are quality time together, since he has some complicated hours at work he looks out for things you two can do together. Avoids the places where he usually goes.

Words, he loves calling you cute nicknames and telling you how well you did something. No matter what it was he makes a big deal out of it.

Contact, if he could take you everywhere with him, he would. He needs to have you by his side, being able to touch you its a must. He needs one kiss from you for his day to be good.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Most likely you two would be friends if you two used to work for the Organization and shared the same twisted dark mind set back then.

Like that he is a chaotic one, he does not like breaking the rules, in fact he lives by them. But would push your limits both inside the island and outside.

If you two worked as recruiters then you two would have friendly competitions on who can get more peopel into the games and bet on them once the games starts.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

YES. He is a big softie for his wife. After a long day of seeing the kind of peopel he hates the most he comes home needing you. 

Will drag you to either the bed or the expensive couch the saw you seeing one time and got it for you, cause why not? The best for his wife.

Will hug you from behind, let his head fall on your shoulder and whisper how much he loves you and how happy he is with you.

If you two lay down then he would like to have you pressed against his chest, facing him so he can give you small kisses or being the small spoon so he can hug you against him and act as a shiled from the world.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

THIS MAN SAW YOU AND WAS ALTERADY PLANNING THE WEEDING.

He is actually good at both. He likes to keep his home clean and prefers food that he made himself. However he cant compare his coking skills with yours. After the first time he tried your food he was unable to make himself food again. Why ? Because yours its just better!! And dont ask him to eat fast food, he hates it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Oh sweet you, he would NEVER break up with you.

If for some reason you start to act strange and distant yourself from him he will gashlight you and blame you, manipulating the situation on his favor so you would feel bad for even think about it.

No. He needs you like his lungs needs air, he cant and wont ever let you go. He would destroy your personal life first so you would have no one to reach for.

You are his light and muse, he wont let you go.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

FAST. As I said he saw you and he was planning the weeding.

Even if he wants to get married fast he would work himself to be seen as a proper future husband. If you have friends then he would act as a gentlemen and even make them jealous of you. Your family would love him to no end, and would joke about when the weeding will be.

Your mom/dad may beg you to marry him since he is a good man and wants the best for you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

SFW: SOFTIE. Loves to hold you close, smell your perfume and have your hands around him. It helps him ground himself down when he is too stressed.

Emotionally he is complicated, for you he is a open book at least with his feelings of devotion towards you. He is very vocal by how much he cares for you and how happy you make it. When it comes to personal matters, mostly his work he prefers to keep you in the dark about it. He does not want you to see him any different.

NSFW: At first in order to not scare you away he would be gentle and vanilla with you in bed. Then he would slowly introduce you to his depraved and dark side of it.

Does he manipulate you into giving in? Yes, yes he does. But you wont ever notice it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes them, his hugs are short but with full of meaning. He likes to give you one during the mornings and at night.

Its a routine he has, he needs to at least give you one during the day.

On special times his hugs will be longer, maybe in your anniversary, he will hold you in his arms against his chest letting you listen to his heart beat.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

In is mind, he tells you the L word just days after starting dating you, or even while he stalked you.

He knows he loves you, but wants you to say it to him first so he can respond pulling all his heart in these words.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He gets easily jealous, not because he does not trust you. But because he wants you all for himself.

Not only does he gets jealous over strange males, but over your friends too.

If he feels like you are passing too much time with them, then he will use his charm to keep you away from them.

If things gets more serious...then he will just make them dissapear, he may torture them or take two at times and makes them play a deadly game but the catch is..no one has a chance of winning.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Oh! His kisses are full of love and passion, his favorite spot its defenetly your lips. He loves to kiss them till they end all red and puffy.

Your neck is another place, he likes to leave both, small kisses and long ones in order to leave marks behind.

He likes to be kissed by you on his lips, neck, cheeck and hands. The last one its his personal favorite since it makes him feel less of a monster...or does not care what he does as long as you like his hands.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Actually no.

He can fake around kids that are not his but he does not want kids with you.

He wants to live a long life with you and only you. He wants your attention only on him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Depends on how the night activities went.

Sometimes he lets you sleep while he gets ready but he finds you making him breakfast. Thats a thing that always happen.

If he feels like he wants to spend more time with him then he would ask you to shower with him, and help him dress for the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Depends on how he wants the night to go and and what time he gets back.

If he comes early and just wants to spend quiality time with you, you two would watch a movie or talk for a bit.

And if he wants to do another tnings...well you two are in for a long time.

If he comes home late then he would prefer you to be asleep, since he still has to shower and other things.

But you usually wait for him awake or wake up once he gets in, you like to see his tired face light up when he sees how much you worry over him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Its complicated. He likes how you see him and only know of his depraved side when it comes to sex.

He may twist the truth about his past and what he does for work, maybe with a few years he will reveal something more, but nothing that would scare you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has much patience, needs it for his work and it traslates to your relationship. Its not like you can do more to break his patience, he deals with worse things.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers every single detail.

Even since he stalked you and got all your personal information, its like his second life.

What you like and dislike, what type of music, food, colors and activities, he remembers all of it.

Its impossible for him to forget a single detail when it comes to you.

He remembers your the special dates, from the first time he saw you to the first date you to had.

Your anniversary date its printed on his mind, you will find the most romantic dinner waiting for you, the most relaxing day just for you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment its one centrain day, the day you told him you loved him.

It was a sunny day of spring, both of you were walking around a park, seeing the flowers and nature as well as other couples.

He had stopped to buy you some sweet and was enjoying seeing you munch over them.

"You know, we have been dating for some time now" You said to him, stopping to look up at him.

Taking a deep breath you added "And I cant keep this hide from you anymore, I love you, I have never feel loved like this before. And I have never loved someone so much before, it makes my heart feel heavy in a good way. And I want you to know it, I love you"

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is very protective over you.

While he knows the organization wont do anything to you unless you do something to interfer with the games he feels at ease with that.

He does not trust the peopel.

He hacks your phone so he can know where you are at all hours. Has cameras at his home and a security system in case someone breaks in.

He even teachs you to use a gun and fight just in case.

(Having you around him its just a plus)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

LOTS. Each date, anniversary and gift suprasses the last one.

He will ask you what you biggest dream is and make it come true. Gets you the best gifts and take you to the most fancy and fun dates.

Even once you two are married he likes to still take you out like old times.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He is:

A stalker.

Manipulative

Gaslighter

Possessive

Control freak but hides it.

He is a red flag, a walking one. But even that he gets all softie for you, his dear wife.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Well, he knows he is good looking and likes to take care of how he looks. But only for you.

Wants to look handsome and well dress for you. Does not care if he catches the eyes of others, he just wants you to look at him and tell him how good looking he is.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Totally. He never felt complete before, always alone and going on with his days. He never cared if he felt lonely, not till he met you from afar and then for real.

To him, you are his soulmate, his other half, his human side and lover. The one who grounds himself and brights his life.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Honestly if he ends being obsess with you he may ignore whatever thing he may dislike from you.

Does this mean he would not try and change you? Oh no, he would.

Something he dislikes is disobedicneic, if he tells you to not ask about his work he expects you to do as told. You cant follow, you cant enter his office...

Thats what he hates the most.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Before meeting you, he would sleep six hours. And thats it. His nights are plagued with nightmares and lots of times he would wake up before his alarm and look outside the window, towards the dark till the sun comes out and the lights of other houses starts to get on.

But once he meets you, he becomes a heavy sleepier, he loves to cuddle you during the night, with you by his side his nightmares are gone. His six hours passed to be eight hours, more if he feels greedy and want to stay besides you some more.

[sccrim]

CAMERA MAN !

warnings : ( unprotected pnv , degrading / praising , creampies , slapping , oral fem receiving , pornstar x drew , masturbation , sex tape , hair pulling , bondage , squirting )

you ask drew to help you film certain angles you couldn’t get right. drew agreeing just for it to end up in a way you didn’t really expect.

1.4k words. not proof read.

tags : @rissouu @dolliescries ( lmk if you want tags !! )

you and drew had been roommates for a while now. it wasn't weird that he was a man and you a woman. it was a mutual agreement that you guys both needed a place to stay. you didn't care if he brought girls home and he didn't care about men you brought. you actually glad you found him as your roommate. he was barley home and when he was— he was in his room.

you never implied that you were a pornstar but he did have the idea you were. he didn't care though. this was the same man who searched your name and jerked himself off to you. the ones he loved the most was when you would pleasure yourself coming to your high. your nipples piercing through your see through bra. the way your legs were opened so they had a better angle of seeing you cum. fuck maybe he did want to fuck the shit out of you and make sure you knew who he was.

drew was sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone when he heard your door open. "hey drew, i need a favor." you asked him. "yeah?" he questioned while seeing you in your robe. "can you help me film something really quickly. i can't get the angle right and i want this to be perfect." you softly smiled. you didn't want to ask him but you really wanted this to be good. this was how you were making money.

"yeah sure." he tried to act nonchalant but he knew what was up and he didn't mind at all. at least he got to see you touch yourself in real life then on video. "you probably already know but don't be so alarmed ok?" you closed your room door. "you're good y/n." he chuckled. "okay all i need is for you to film close ups and just whatever you think is good okay? i'll even pay you half of what i make for helping me." you took off your robe. drew eyed your whole body. the way your thong kissed your ass and lips. your red see through bra. "you're good. trust." of course he was fucking happy. he was gonna see you fuck yourself.

you put yourself on your bed and sat up against the headboard. drew nodded his head letting you know it pressed record. you began smiling at the camera and licked your fingers to get your pussy wet. you traveled down slowly while the camera following the trail. you began circling your clit. moaning softly. drew trying not to get hard. you grabbed your dildo and insert it. you moaned again causing drew to show the camera on your face.

you didn't know what was turning you on even more, drew staring at you, his hard ass dick or the feeling of your dildo. you turned your body around. now the camera sees your ass cheeks in the air. you insert the dildo once more causing you to hump it. god, drew wanted to fuck you bad. he wanted the camera to catch everything he did to you. your eyes meeting drew. you smiled and moaned at the same time knowing he was getting turned on. "wanna fuck me?" you finally spoke.

drew just looking at you, not knowing if you were talking to him or for the camera. "hm? wanna fuck the shit out of me." you bit your lip. "show them you can make me fucking cum all over your dick babe." fuck that just turned drew on even fucking more. he was ready and so were you. "turn over." he spoke. you turned your body once more. your body on the edge of the bed. you grabbed your boob causing drew to slap your hand out the way. you touching yourself as drew traveled his fingers across your body.

drew set the camera on your night stand for the perfect angle. he took his shirts off. his dick flopping against his abs. he spit on his hand and began stroking his dick. you couldn't wait for him to fuck the shit out of you. you wanted to see how good he felt. drew tapped his dick on your clit, you could feel the sensation of it causing you to soft moan. "how much you want me to fuck you?" he ask you as he rubbed his thumb on your clit. "really bad."

"sorry what? gotta speak up baby."

"please drew."

"so fucking wet for me. god, so beautiful laying here desperate for my fucking dick."

"be a good fucking slut and face down, ass up." drew turned you over so quick. you were even shocked but you couldn't wait to get pounded. "hands on your back." you listened and placed them behind your back. drew grabbing his belt and turning it into cuffs. "if you want to tap out let me know." he wants you to tap out. he wants to know that you can't take all of it.

drew just slams into you. "fuck." he moaned. "look at you, wet just for me. felt how easy going in was. turn your head to the camera." his fist around your hair making you face the camera. "show them how good i fuck you." your eyes rolling back. man he can fuck. "you feel so good ma." your pussy clinching around his cock. he grabbed your hips and kept thrusting into you. all you hear is your moans and his balls clapping against your ass checks.

"fuck baby, you look so beautiful taking this dick." drew slapped your ass. "i'm gonna cum—" he started to feel your body shake. "that's right, cum all over this dick." thrusting harder as your body came. "i'm not finish with you yet." drew took the belt off of your hands. you turned around and got on your knees. you began jerking him off before licking his thick tip. "be a good bitch and spit on it." he lifted your chin up. you spit on his dick before placing it in your mouth. "fuck, you feel so good."

he leaned his head back. still sucking, you grabbed his balls. all you can hear is drew moaning. he never felt this good before. you were still turned on. man this man was out of this world, you thought. "right there baby." he guided you. he made sure his dick was all in your mouth. the gagging, causing him to moan in pleasure.

"get up."

you followed his command. you laid on your back as he slammed into your throbbing pussy. he placed his hand on your neck, choking you softly— you smiling at him. "how will your fans feel knowing you rather get fucked by me then anyone else? hm?" he placed his thumb in your mouth. you sucking on it slowly causing him to fuck you even harder. "who's pussy is this?"

"yours."

"that's right, and it's gonna fucking stay like that. no one else is gonna fuck you."

man. drew starkey, the man you fucking are. "i'm gonna fucking cum." he moaned out still pounding you faster. "cum for me."

drew's body started to come to his high, his body twitching inside you. you could feel his cum shoot through you. drew trying to catch his breath. you lifted up a little bit with your elbow, touching your pussy, feeling his cum come out if you. drew watched you as you put his cum in your mouth. "such a dirty slut." he kissed you, placing his tongue in your mouth. "we're not finished." you looked at him in confusion. he got on his knees and put your legs over his shoulder.

"i want you to squirt in my mouth."

you laid back down when you felt his tongue on your clit. your hand gripping his hair as you began fucking his face. him moved his hand to grab your boob. this man made you feel things, you haven't felt. yeah you did collabs but it wasn't as amazing as this was. you tried to hold in longer because you loved the feeling of drew eating you out but your body began to shake. drew holding down your hands by your side as he kept the movement going.

"drew- im gonna—" you moaned out. you squirting all over him. you out of breath while drew smiled looking at you so weak. "you taste so good baby." he says leaning in kissing you. you both never thought this day would come that you guys would be doing this together or even kissing each other. but you weren't mad about it at all. you actually loved it. maybe deep down you guys both had feelings for each other.

drew grabbed the camera and stopped recording. he picked you up and put you in the shower. both of you guys showering together. "go on a date with me."

 sccrim — all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost , translate , or plagiarise my content.

[mcrdvcks]

okay, here we go, part 2! (bear with me once again)

Something in his tone must have reached her, because she looked up, her eyes softening, almost as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time. “Logan…” she said her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”

how are you doing this?? 'cause this is something i would do. i've never had a guy interested in me, other than a casual friend, so i feel like if a guy was sending signals that he wanted more, i just wouldn't notice or believe it.

She bit her lip, looking down, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t see it because… why would I?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and he had to lean in to catch the words. “I mean, look at you. You’re… you’re handsome. You could have anyone. And I’m just… me.” She let out a shaky laugh, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I’m quiet. I’m… awkward. I was rude to you half the time, and the other half I was too shy to even look you in the eye.”

chat this is getting too real

“Not with you,” he replied softly, his voice like a promise. “Never with you.”

ughhh, i love soft logan

“Tell me what you’re thinking, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice a rough murmur. He kept his gaze steady, trying not to let his need show too much. He wanted her—God, he needed her—but he knew better than to rush this.

consent, consent, consent!! that just makes him that much more attractive

The worst of it was a half-written document, clearly meant to be an exposé. She’d been planning to write everything down—publish everything. The paper was titled in bold at the top: The Hidden Faces of War: Secrets Behind Team X. And beneath the title, a line that made his blood run cold: “An unauthorized look into the men behind the missions, and the things they were never meant to remember.”

i knew it! i mean... oh no...

Wade sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, man. I’ll help you,” he said, his voice softer now, carrying a note of real sincerity. “I don’t want her getting hurt, either. I’m not a monster. I know what Stryker will do if he gets his hands on her.” He paused, his gaze steady. “She doesn’t deserve that. And neither do you.”

the fact wade knows how much she means to logan is true friendship

“In a heartbeat,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “I’d leave it all if it meant keeping you safe. You think I care about Stryker? About Team X? That life’s got nothing for me. Not anymore.”

so cute 😭😭

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her words full of quiet sincerity as she tugged his jeans down his hips. Her eyes roamed over him, taking him in as if he were something precious. Logan huffed out a quiet laugh, the sound rough and unpracticed. “Beautiful?” he echoed, a faint, self-deprecating grin tugging at his lips. It was strange hearing that word directed at him—foreign in a way that made him feel both exposed and disarmed. “I’m looking at beautiful, and it sure as hell isn’t me.”

ahhhhh

“Gotta say, little brother,” came the low, mocking drawl, “didn’t think you’d make it this easy for me.”

no, not victor 😭

After a long moment, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a slow smile breaking across his face. “All right, then,” he said, voice low and steady. “Guess I’d better get used to it.” She grinned, leaning over the table to press a quick kiss to his lips, her laughter filling the room like sunlight. “Guess you’d better,” she teased, brushing a hand through his hair as she settled back in her chair.

the ending was so cute, and wade coming in at the end?? the three of them are adorable <3

okay but seriously, this was great, i enjoyed reading this so much. it's different from other things i read but still felt like it belonged in the x-men/wolverine universe. thank you for writing this! :)

Sanctuary - Part Two

Logan and Wade are sent by Stryker to find a journalist who has been digging around trying to expose Team X. Logan isn't prepared when he meets an intriguing neighbor causing him to question himself and the mission.

origins logan howlett x fem!reader - team x mission, shy reader, no y/n, she/her pronouns used instead of you, logan's pov, origins wade, awkwardness, guarded feelings, angst, AU, crushes, logan kinda being a stalker, stryker and victor cameos, fighting, cussing, wade being a good friend, reserved logan

apparently this is too long to post in one go so here's part one and here's part two

word count: 40k

divider credit: @enchanthings

Logan knew he shouldn’t be jealous, but he couldn’t help it. Jared had started working his way into her life, filling the spaces Logan had been dancing around for weeks. Jared was walking her home after her shifts, casually showing up at the bar to chat with her, and Logan was pretty sure he’d seen him drop flowers off once. Every time he looked, Jared seemed to be there—closing in, leaving little room for Logan.

Wade, of course, was delighted by this turn of events and took every opportunity to dig the knife a little deeper.

"Guess the infamous Jared is busy tonight,” Wade quipped, glancing over to where she was wiping down glasses behind the bar, focused and oblivious to their presence. “Better get your ass over there, lover boy, before he shows up and sweeps her off her feet again.”

Logan shot him a glare, his jaw clenched tight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, but his eyes drifted back to her. She looked calm, and relaxed, humming to herself as she went about her work. The sight only made his chest ache more.

“Oh, come on,” Wade snickered, taking a sip of his beer. “Just admit it—you’re jealous.”

Logan didn’t respond, but his fists tightened on the table. He hated that Wade was right. The jealousy gnawed at him, a constant, dull ache that made him restless and irritable. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing her, and he hated that he wasn’t even sure he’d ever had her to begin with.

Before he could second-guess himself, Logan stood up, ignoring Wade’s raised eyebrow as he crossed the bar. She looked up as he approached, a small smile flickering across her lips.

“Hey, Logan,” she greeted him, her tone warm but casual like they were old friends—just friends.

Logan nodded, trying to keep his tone light. “Hey. Just… wanted to check in on you.” He hesitated, then added, “I saw Jared hasn’t been around tonight.”

She shrugged her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Guess he’s busy,” she said lightly, going back to drying the glass in her hands. She didn’t offer anymore, clearly brushing it off, but Logan couldn’t let it go.

“Do you… do you actually like the guy?” he asked, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.

She paused, glancing up at him with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Why do you ask?”

Logan shifted, feeling foolish but unable to drop it. “Just… curious. Seems like he’s been around a lot lately. Walking you home, stopping by during your shifts…”

She let out a sigh, setting the glass down with a bit more force than necessary. “Logan, what’s it to you?” she asked, a touch of frustration slipping into her voice. “I mean, I don’t ask about the women in your life.”

The remark stung, and Logan took a breath, struggling to keep his frustration in check. “I just don’t think he’s good enough for you,” he said, his voice coming out rougher than he’d intended.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not good enough? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Logan opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure how to explain the knot of jealousy and protectiveness he felt without sounding… ridiculous. “I just don’t like the way he acts around you. Like he’s… entitled to your time.”

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation in her gaze. “Logan, he’s just a friend. If he wants to walk me home or drop by the bar, that’s his choice. It’s not… some grand conspiracy.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, growing increasingly frustrated. “Yeah, well, he’s not doing it just to be nice.”

She looked at him, her expression unreadable, then let out a soft, exasperated sigh. “Why do you even care so much? I don’t get it.” She paused, searching his face with a look of confusion. “Why are you acting like this? You’ve always been… protective, but this is different. I don’t understand.”

Logan felt his heart sink, a cold realization settling over him. She didn’t see it. She didn’t see him the way he saw her—didn’t even consider the possibility that he might want to be more than just a friend. Or maybe she just… couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t imagine him as someone she could be with.

“Why am I acting like this?” he echoed, his voice low, bitter. He forced himself to meet her gaze, searching her eyes for any glimmer of understanding, but her expression was still clouded with confusion. “You really don’t know?”

She blinked, her brow furrowing, then let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Logan, I…thought you were…you’re my friend. I mean, that’s what you’ve been, right? I don’t—” She broke off, biting her lip as if she didn’t know how to finish the thought.

Logan felt his chest tighten. There it was, plain as day. He’d been standing here, trying to protect her, trying to be someone she could rely on, someone she’d choose. But she couldn’t even see him like that. He was just Logan—the guy who watched out for her, the guy she talked to when she needed someone to listen. Nothing more.

“Right,” he said, his voice rough, barely masking the bitterness that threatened to spill over. “Just your friend.”

Something in his tone must have reached her, because she looked up, her eyes softening, almost as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time. “Logan…” she said her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head, letting out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?”

Her eyes searched his face, a flicker of something close to regret passing over her expression. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again, her shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean to… hurt your feelings,” she murmured. “I just didn’t know. I thought—”

Logan took a step back, feeling the weight of her words settle over him like a stone. “It’s fine,” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. “Forget I said anything.”

He turned, feeling her eyes on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back. He didn’t want to see the pity in her gaze, the confusion, or worse—the faint flicker of understanding that came too late. He walked away, his chest tight. It was too late for that now. She’d seen him as a friend from the start, and no amount of jealous glances or awkward conversations was going to change that.

Logan pushed through the bar doors, letting the cool night air hit him like a slap. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside him, the mix of frustration and hurt that he couldn’t quite shake. He’d thought he could handle her not seeing him that way, but hearing her say it out loud—just my friend—had cut deeper than he’d expected.

He barely made it a few steps when he heard her voice behind him.

“Logan, wait.”

He stopped, surprised, turning slowly. He hadn’t expected her to follow. She stood there in the doorway, her face lit by the neon bar sign, eyes wide and uncertain like she was still trying to make sense of what had just happened. She took a tentative step forward, wrapping her arms around herself, the vulnerability in her posture catching him off guard.

“Why did you…?” she began, then hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Logan let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Say what? That I see you as more than just a friend? That every time I saw you with that guy, it felt like I was watching you slip away?” He shook his head, his voice rough. “I tried, but… you just didn’t see it.”

She bit her lip, looking down, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t see it because… why would I?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and he had to lean in to catch the words. “I mean, look at you. You’re… you’re handsome. You could have anyone. And I’m just… me.” She let out a shaky laugh, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I’m quiet. I’m… awkward. I was rude to you half the time, and the other half I was too shy to even look you in the eye.”

Logan felt his chest tighten as he took in her words. He stepped closer, his voice gentle, almost pleading. “Don’t you see? That’s exactly why.”

She looked up, her eyes meeting his, confusion etched in her face.

“Look,” he continued, struggling to put into words everything he’d been feeling. “You’re real. You’re not trying to be anyone else, not putting on a show. You’re just… you. And yeah, you’re quiet, and maybe a little guarded, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s honest. You don’t let people in easily, and for some reason, that made me want to break through even more.”

She stared at him, her eyes beginning to shimmer with unshed tears. He could see her struggling to hold them back, her fingers twisting anxiously at her sides.

“And when you let your guard down,” Logan continued, his voice softer now, “even for just a second… I see this side of you that’s so… warm. You’re thoughtful. Kind. Stronger than you give yourself credit for.” He took a breath, gathering the courage to say the rest. “You make me want to be better, just by being yourself.”

She blinked, her face crumpling slightly as a tear slipped down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly, as if embarrassed, but more tears followed, spilling over in silent streams.

“I… I didn’t know,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t think anyone… saw me like that.”

He took another step forward, closing the last bit of distance between them, his gaze fixed on her face. “I see you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “And not just the version of you from tonight, or the one from work. All of you.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment she looked away as if trying to collect herself. Then, with a shaky exhale, she looked back at him, her gaze softer, more open than he’d ever seen it.

“Logan…” Her voice broke, and she let out a short, almost disbelieving laugh, a mix of relief and release. She shook her head, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand, but the tears kept coming. “I didn’t… I never thought…”

Before she could finish, Logan reached out, pulling her into his arms. She didn’t resist, her body melting into his as she let herself be held, her arms slipping around his waist. He felt her relax against him, her head resting against his chest, her shoulders shaking as she allowed herself to cry freely.

Logan tightened his hold, one hand gently cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped securely around her back. He felt her tears soak into his shirt, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the warmth of her in his arms, the way she fit against him, like she’d belonged there all along.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… let it out.”

She nodded against his chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as she cried. It wasn’t a sad cry—it was something deeper like she was finally letting go of something she’d held inside for too long. Logan stood there, holding her, letting her know with his presence that she didn’t have to be alone in it anymore.

After a while, her tears slowed, her breathing evening out as she relaxed in his arms. She pulled back slightly, looking up at him, her eyes still wet but filled with quiet gratitude, a kind of wonder that took his breath away.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice raw but steady. “For… seeing me. I don’t know how to explain it, but… no one’s ever really done that before.”

Logan’s gaze softened, and he brushed a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to explain it,” he said gently. 

They stood there, close enough to feel each other’s breath, a fragile understanding settling between them. She didn’t look away, her gaze steady and unguarded, and for the first time, he felt like he was truly seeing her—no walls, no defenses, just her.

“Logan…” she murmured, her voice trailing off as if the weight of the moment had stolen her words. Her eyes searched his face, hesitant yet drawn in, and after a heartbeat, she lifted her hand, her fingers brushing softly against his cheek. The touch was tentative but unshakably real, grounding him, rooting him in the quiet intimacy between them.

Logan’s breath caught, and he leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. Her fingertips were warm against his skin, tracing over the rough edges of his jaw, gentle but sure, like she was memorizing him. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat loud and insistent as if to remind him that this—she—was real.

“I see you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but he felt the words settle over him, softening something in him he hadn’t realized was so tightly wound. “I see all of you.”

Logan nodded, his voice thick. “I know, sweetheart.”

Her lips parted slightly, her gaze flicking down as her hand trailed lower, her fingers grazing his cheekbone, then drifting to trace the outline of his bottom lip. His breath hitched, his skin electrified under her touch, and he found himself leaning closer, drawn in like a magnet. Her fingers lingered at the edge of his mouth, her touch featherlight, and for a moment he was utterly still, letting her explore this unguarded part of him.

A soft laugh escaped her, a quiet, wondrous sound as if seeing him this vulnerable under her touch was something she hadn’t quite expected. Her thumb brushed over his lip, and he felt the faintest tremble in her hand like she was as caught up in this as he was.

“Logan… I didn’t know…” she murmured, her voice trailing off, her eyes full of something like wonder. “I didn’t know you could be… like this.”

“Like what?” he asked, his voice a low rasp, barely able to keep his focus as her fingers traced along his jaw.

“Soft,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his with a quiet, almost fragile honesty. “You’re always so… strong. Untouchable. But right now…” She trailed off, her cheeks flushing, and he could see the vulnerability in her expression, the way she was opening up to him, bit by bit.

“Not with you,” he replied softly, his voice like a promise. “Never with you.”

He lifted his hand, covering hers against his cheek, pressing it gently, letting her know without words that he wanted her there—that he was letting her see this part of him because it was her. She wasn’t just any woman to him; she was the woman, the one who had slipped under his skin in ways he couldn’t explain.

Slowly, she moved closer, her breath mingling with his, her gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips like she was still wrapping her head around the idea that he could be hers, that he was this vulnerable for her alone.

“I…” she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath as she leaned in, her lips brushing softly against his jaw. Her fingers still rested against his cheek, her touch featherlight, hesitant.

Logan’s heart pounded, every instinct urging him to close the distance, to kiss her and pull her into his arms. But he held back, waiting, sensing there was something she needed to say.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice a rough murmur. He kept his gaze steady, trying not to let his need show too much. He wanted her—God, he needed her—but he knew better than to rush this.

She closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her as she leaned her forehead against his, her breath warm against his skin. “I want…” she started, her voice catching. She let out a shaky breath, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, her eyes searching his. “I want you to hold me.”

Her words were quiet, almost shy, and he felt something shift in his chest, a tenderness he hadn’t known he could feel. She looked down, almost apologetic, her cheeks flushed as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m… sorry if that’s not what you wanted,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady. “I just… I’m not ready for more.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he gently lifted her chin, meeting her eyes with a look of understanding. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice steady and warm. “You don’t have to apologize. I can wait.”

She blinked, her eyes filling with gratitude, a quiet vulnerability that made his heartache. “Really?” she asked, her voice a fragile whisper.

He smiled softly, brushing his thumb along her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin under his touch. “Really,” he replied, his tone gentle but sure. “As long as it takes. Just… let me be here with you.”

She let out a shaky breath, and he could feel the tension ease from her shoulders as she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her body pressed against his.

They stood like that in the quiet, her cheek pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around her. He could feel her relax in his embrace, letting go of the hesitation, the fear as if she’d finally found a place she could just… be.

“Thank you, Logan,” she whispered against his shirt, her voice muffled but filled with emotion. “For… for understanding.”

He held her a little tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, a promise in the gentle touch. “Always,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

It was late, and the apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of floorboards settling. Logan had just settled on the couch, nursing a beer and trying to ignore Wade’s relentless teasing, when there was a soft knock at the door.

Logan’s brow furrowed. It was nearly midnight, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He stood up, crossing the small space and opening the door—only to find her standing there, arms wrapped around herself, eyes wide and uncertain.

For a second, they just stared at each other, and he could see the faint blush rising to her cheeks, the way she looked away, biting her lip as if second-guessing why she’d even come.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry, it’s… so late.”

Logan’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No problem,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Everything okay?”

She nodded, but he could tell she was nervous—more nervous than usual, even. Her gaze darted from his face to the floor, her fingers twisting in the hem of her sweater as she shifted from one foot to the other. “I, um… I just…” She took a breath, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “I was wondering if… maybe you could come over? Just for a bit?”

Logan’s smile grew, and he nodded, his voice gentle. “Of course. Let me grab my jacket.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Wade, who was watching the scene unfold with a smirk, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Finally got the girl to come to you, huh?” Wade drawled, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “About damn time.”

Logan rolled his eyes, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. “Yeah, well, took me long enough,” he muttered.

Wade gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in mock shock. “Is the big tough guy over here admitting I was right?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Logan grumbled, but there was a flicker of humor in his eyes as he closed the door behind him, leaving Wade’s laughter echoing down the hall.

When they reached her apartment, she opened the door and led him inside, glancing back at him nervously as if checking to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind. Her place was warm and inviting, the faint scent of vanilla in the air, and he could see a blanket draped over the back of her couch, and a book lying open on the coffee table. It felt like stepping into another world—a quiet sanctuary that was all hers.

She hesitated, looking back at him with a shy smile. “Sorry if this is… weird. I just… I didn’t feel like being alone tonight.”

Logan shook his head, his expression gentle. “Not weird at all,” he assured her. “I’m glad you asked.”

They settled onto the couch, her curled up at one end with a blanket wrapped around her, and Logan at the other, trying to ignore the subtle ache in his chest that urged him to reach out, to pull her close. Instead, he let her take the lead, watching as she relaxed, her guard slowly lowering in the quiet warmth of her apartment.

After a few minutes, she glanced over at him, her face softening. “You know, I don’t let a lot of people in here. It’s kind of… my space. Where I go when I need to recharge.”

Logan nodded, understanding more than she probably realized. “I figured,” he murmured. “Need a little peace and quiet to get your energy back.”

She laughed softly, tucking her legs up under herself. “Exactly. Sometimes I think people don’t get that. They think I’m being rude or closed off, but it’s not… It’s just how I am.”

Logan smiled, leaning back against the couch, feeling more comfortable here than he had in a long time. “Trust me, I know the feeling. People have been making assumptions about me my whole life.” He looked down, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

She seemed to absorb his words, her expression softening, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the quiet of the room settling over them like a warm blanket. Finally, she shifted a little closer, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket as if gathering the courage to say something.

“Could you… would you mind just holding me?” she asked softly, almost shyly. “I know it’s silly, but…”

“It’s not silly,” he interrupted gently, already reaching out to pull her closer. She settled against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her body fitting perfectly against his side. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her securely, feeling the soft warmth of her breath against his neck.

They sat like that in comfortable silence, her fingers tracing small, absent patterns on his arm, and he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known he was missing. After a while, he noticed her glancing at the book on the coffee table, the corners of her mouth lifting in a small, embarrassed smile.

“What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the book.

She chuckled, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “It’s… just an old favorite,” she said, her fingers brushing over the cover as if the book itself were a comfort. “I’ve read it a hundred times, but I keep coming back to it. I guess it’s like… a safe place, you know?”

Logan reached over, picking up the book, letting the pages fall open naturally to a passage she’d read often. His eyes skimmed the words, noticing they were carefully underlined in places, with faint notes scrawled in the margins. Some of the words jumped out at him—truth, deception, uncover. The kind of words that carried a weight he couldn’t quite place.

“You make notes in it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his thumb tracing over one of the handwritten lines in the margin.

She hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting on the edge of the blanket. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice soft. “I… I tend to analyze things. Sometimes I think too much, but…” She shrugged, glancing up at him with a shy smile. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he flipped through a few more pages, noticing more annotations, small questions scribbled in her neat handwriting: What’s being hidden here? What’s the real story? It wasn’t the kind of casual note-taking he’d expect from someone reading for comfort. It felt… meticulous. Intentional.

“You really dig into things, huh?” he asked his tone light but laced with curiosity.

She let out a small, nervous laugh, looking down as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess so. I like… knowing things. Figuring out what’s beneath the surface. Sometimes I think it’s the only way I can make sense of the world.”

Logan’s smile faded slightly, an odd sense of familiarity tugging at him. Her words echoed something he’d heard Stryker say about the journalist they were after—a person who couldn’t leave things alone, who kept digging and prodding, pulling threads no one else had noticed until the whole web of secrets started to unravel. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. No, he thought. That’s ridiculous.

Still, he couldn’t shake a strange feeling, a quiet tension building in the back of his mind. He watched her as she curled up against him, her face soft and relaxed, so different from the hardened profile of a tenacious journalist. And yet…

“So,” he said slowly, turning the conversation a bit, “you said you’ve been working at the bar for… how long now?”

She looked up, blinking as if she hadn’t expected the question. “A few months,” she replied, her voice casual. “Needed a change of pace. City life, you know?”

He nodded, but something about her answer felt practiced. “What did you do before that?”

Her smile wavered, and she glanced away, tugging the blanket a little tighter around herself. “I, um… I did some freelance work. Writing, mostly. Articles, essays, that sort of thing.”

Logan felt his chest tighten, the pieces shifting uncomfortably into place. Freelance writing. It could mean anything… or it could mean everything. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, unwilling to let his suspicions show.

“Writing, huh?” he said, his voice carefully steady. “You must have a knack for it if you’re making a living off it.”

She shrugged, looking down at her hands, her voice softening. “I like to dig into things. Tell stories that don’t get told. Sometimes people don’t appreciate that.” She glanced up at him, a small, frown tugging at her lips. “Guess I’ve made a few enemies along the way.”

Logan’s stomach twisted, his mind racing. He’d been chasing this journalist for weeks, tracking down scraps of information, hearing bits and pieces about someone who wouldn’t quit, who kept pushing no matter the consequences. And here she was, right in front of him, leaning against him with that soft, trusting smile. He felt a pang of guilt mixed with something he couldn’t quite name—something like dread, or realization.

“Guess you don’t mind getting into trouble, huh?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, almost teasing.

She laughed, a soft, self-deprecating sound. “I try not to, but… I don’t know. I just can’t let things go when I feel like there’s more to the story.” She looked up at him, her gaze holding his with a quiet intensity. “You get that, don’t you?”

He nodded, throat suddenly tight. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice low. “I get that.”

They fell into silence, and she nestled against him, resting her head on his shoulder, unaware of the storm swirling in his mind. Logan tightened his arm around her, holding her close, feeling the weight of her trust in the way she settled against him. He wanted to shake off his suspicions, to tell himself he was reading too much into things. But the more he thought about it, the more the pieces clicked into place.

He looked down at her, his gaze softening despite his racing thoughts. He could feel the warmth of her, her breath steady against his chest, her body relaxed and trusting in his arms. She was right here, with him, no walls, no defenses.

Maybe she was the person he’d been looking for all along. 

She had fallen asleep against him, her head nestled on his shoulder, her breathing soft and steady. Logan’s arm was still wrapped around her, but his mind was far from the peaceful quiet of the moment. His thoughts churned, circling back to everything Stryker had told him—and more importantly, everything Stryker hadn’t told him.

For weeks, they’d been tracking down whispers about a journalist who was digging too deep, getting too close to things they had no business knowing. Stryker had been vague about the details, only dropping hints about classified information being exposed, and names being uncovered. Hell, now that Logan thought about it, he realized Stryker hadn’t even specified if their target was a man or a woman. They’d just assumed.

A cold knot of dread formed in his stomach. Could it be her? he wondered, glancing down at her peaceful face, so trusting, so vulnerable in sleep. She’d let him into her world tonight, let him see the quiet, guarded person behind her walls. He’d felt closer to her than he had to anyone in years. But now… now he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been blind, missing clues that were right in front of him.

Silently, he cursed, gently easing her off him and onto the couch. She murmured something in her sleep, shifting slightly, but didn’t wake, sinking deeper into the cushions. Logan took a steadying breath, watching her for a moment, his heart aching with the conflict tearing him apart. What am I doing? he asked himself. But he knew he had to see this through.

His eyes scanned the room, his gaze landing on a small desk tucked in the corner by the window. He moved quietly, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the heater as he made his way over. The desk was neat, but he noticed a few loose papers sticking out of one of the drawers as if she’d shoved them in hurriedly, almost like she’d meant to hide them.

He hesitated, glancing back at her sleeping form, guilt gnawing at him. Just leave it alone, a part of him whispered. You know she’d never forgive you. But the doubt was too strong, the questions too sharp, cutting through his resolve. Slowly, he pulled open the drawer, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached inside.

What he found stopped him cold.

Stacks of papers, notes scribbled in her handwriting, clippings from newspapers, and—his heart dropped—classified documents. Some were marked with the distinct insignia of military intelligence, others with the unmistakable logo of Team X. He sifted through them, his pulse racing as he took in the details. There were notes on most of the members of the team, pieces of their pasts pieced together like puzzle fragments. He found Stryker’s name circled in red ink, question marks, and hastily written notes scrawled next to it: Experimentation? Corruption? The truth?

The worst of it was a half-written document, clearly meant to be an exposé. She’d been planning to write everything down—publish everything. The paper was titled in bold at the top: The Hidden Faces of War: Secrets Behind Team X. And beneath the title, a line that made his blood run cold: “An unauthorized look into the men behind the missions, and the things they were never meant to remember.”

Logan’s stomach twisted, the betrayal sinking deep as he pieced it together. She knew about Team X. She’d known this entire time. All the while, she’d kept him close, drawn him in, let him think he was getting to know her, that he was helping her let her guard down. But maybe it had been the other way around. Maybe she’d been watching him, studying him.

No, he told himself, gripping the edge of the desk to steady himself. That’s not her. It can’t be. He thought of the way she’d looked at him tonight, the way she’d opened up, let him see her vulnerability. She wasn’t faking that… was she?

He closed his eyes, a wave of regret and anger washing over him. He wanted to believe her, to believe that she hadn’t known who he was, that she hadn’t been playing him. But the evidence was here, right in front of him. She’d been planning to expose them—him—for God knows how long.

A soft sound made him look up. She was stirring on the couch, shifting under the blanket, her brow furrowing as if she could feel the tension radiating off him even in sleep. He shut the drawer quietly, his hands still shaking, and turned away, trying to pull himself together before she woke.

It was too late. Her eyes fluttered open, a soft, sleepy smile on her face as she blinked at him in the dim light. “Logan?” she murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness. “What… what’re you doing over there?”

He forced a smile, his heart a mess of anger and sorrow as he looked at her, standing in her cozy apartment that had, just minutes ago, felt like home. Now it felt like a stranger’s room, filled with shadows and secrets. “Just… looking around,” he said, his voice coming out rougher than he’d intended.

She sat up, running a hand through her hair, the gentle smile fading as she noticed the tension in his expression. “Is everything okay?”

He stared at her, searching her face for any hint of deception, any sign that she was lying to him. But all he saw was concern, confusion, and that same vulnerability that had drawn him to her in the first place. And suddenly, he felt like he was the one who was breaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice a low whisper, barely containing the hurt beneath it.

Her face went pale, her eyes widening. “What… what are you talking about?”

“Team X,” he said, the words heavy, almost accusing. “The documents. The notes. I saw them.” He gestured vaguely toward the desk, unable to stop the edge in his tone. “You’ve known about us this whole time, haven’t you?”

She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, her eyes dropping to the floor. “Logan, I…” She took a shaky breath, her hands twisting together. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I was… I was going to tell you. Eventually.”

“Tell me?” he repeated, his voice a harsh whisper. “Tell me that you’re planning to expose everything? Stryker, Team X… me?”

She looked up, her eyes bright with unshed tears, her voice trembling. “It’s not like that,” she whispered. “I didn’t…wasn’t doing it to hurt you. I wanted… I wanted people to know the truth. About what Stryker was making you do, making all of you do.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, the betrayal sinking in, heavy and painful. “So that’s it? You’ve just been studying me this whole time? Waiting to get enough dirt to make a story out of it?”

“No!” She shook her head, her voice breaking. “Logan, I… I didn’t plan any of this. Meeting you, being with you… it wasn’t part of the story. That’s real. You have to believe me.”

Logan felt himself falter, his anger wavering as he looked into her eyes. They were wide and glassy, filled with a desperate sincerity that made his chest ache. “How am I supposed to believe you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly, her voice raw, trembling. “I know… I know how it looks. But please, Logan, you have to understand—I never wanted to hurt you. Or anyone else.” Her voice cracked, and she looked down, clutching her hands together. “I gave up the story before you even came here. Some guy threatened me at work—when I was still working at the newspaper. Said I was poking around in places I didn’t belong.” She let out a shaky breath. “I got scared. Decided to quit and… and disappear.”

Logan closed his eyes, the ache in his chest tightening, almost unbearable. Part of him wanted to turn around, to walk away and never look back, to spare himself the mess of feelings clawing their way through him. But another part—the part that had been drawn to her since the beginning, the part that had found something like peace in her arms—couldn’t let go. Not yet.

He opened his eyes, studying her, searching for any hint of deception. “So you ran,” he said quietly, his voice edged with disbelief. “You just… left it all behind?”

She nodded, her gaze distant, as if caught in the memory. “I thought if I hid, maybe they’d forget about me. But I knew…” She took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping. “I knew someone would come eventually. I couldn’t outrun it forever. I knew that… that I knew too much, even if I never published the story.”

She paused, then slowly rose to her feet, taking a step closer to him, her eyes never leaving his. “So when you and Wade showed up… I thought maybe that was it. That you were here to… finish the job.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and Logan saw the flash of fear in her eyes, the quiet acceptance beneath it that shook him to his core. “I accepted that.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, a fresh wave of anger and confusion washing over him. “You thought we were here to kill you?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “And you… you just accepted it?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to hold herself together. “I didn’t have a choice,” she said, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t go to anyone. I couldn’t trust anyone. Not after the threats… after the people who went quiet when I tried to ask questions.” Her gaze dropped, and he could see her fighting to keep her composure. “But then you started hovering around me. I thought you knew right from the start and was just toying with me but then I got to know you. And I started hoping that maybe… maybe it didn’t have to end that way.”

Logan felt his anger dissolve, replaced by a deep, painful empathy he hadn’t expected. He could see it now, all of it—the fear she must have lived with, the constant worry that she’d made a mistake she couldn’t take back. She’d been alone, hiding, looking over her shoulder… and yet she’d let him in, despite all of it.

“But you still didn’t tell me,” he said, his voice quieter now, laced with hurt. “You let me get close to you, you let me… fall for you, and you didn’t think I deserved to know the truth?”

Her face crumpled, another tear slipping down her cheek. “I didn’t want you to hate me,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I thought… I thought if I told you, you’d leave. Or worse—that you’d confirm what I’d been afraid of. That you were here to… end things.”

He swallowed, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “So you kept it hidden. Just like you’ve kept everything else.”

She took a step closer, reaching out tentatively, her hand hovering between them. “Logan, please,” she murmured, her eyes searching his, filled with raw, unguarded vulnerability. “I was scared. I’ve been scared this whole time. And then you came into my life, and for the first time… I didn’t feel alone.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I thought maybe I’d finally found someone I could trust.”

He looked down at her hand, so close yet hesitant, and he felt the weight of her words settle over him, tugging at something deep inside. She hadn’t just been hiding; she’d been surviving, barely holding on, and he could see the toll it had taken on her—the guardedness, the fear, the way she’d kept everyone at arm’s length.

Slowly, he reached out, closing the distance between them, his fingers brushing hers. Her hand was cold, trembling slightly, and he felt a surge of protectiveness rise in him, stronger than the hurt, stronger than the anger. He looked into her eyes, searching for any trace of deception, but all he saw was a woman standing on the edge, hoping someone would finally reach out and pull her back.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he said softly, his voice a quiet promise. “Not of me.”

Her breath hitched, and she let out a shaky laugh, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to hear that,” she whispered. She took another step closer, her hand slipping into his, her grip tentative but real. “I’m so sorry, Logan… for everything. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I just… I didn’t know how to stop being afraid.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, feeling the way she melted against him, finally letting herself be vulnerable, finally allowing herself to trust. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble against her hair. “You don’t have to explain.”

She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his waist, her face pressed against his chest as if she were afraid to let go. He could feel her shaking, the quiet release of all the fear and tension she’d been holding for so long.

After a moment, she pulled back just enough to look up at him, her gaze filled with a fragile kind of hope. “Do you… do you think you could ever forgive me?”

Logan looked down at her, his thumb brushing away the last of her tears. “I already have,” he said quietly. “But I need you to be honest with me. No more secrets. No more hiding.”

She nodded a new determination settling in her eyes. “No more secrets,” she promised. “I’ll tell you everything. Whatever you want to know.”

He felt the weight of her words, the sincerity woven through every syllable. She was laying it all bare, trusting him with the truth she’d kept hidden for so long. But he knew this wouldn’t be easy—that there was still so much they’d have to face. Stryker wouldn’t let something like this go. Logan knew him too well; once Stryker had a target, he didn’t back off. And as much as he trusted Wade on a good day, there was a flicker of doubt nagging at him. Wade might be unpredictable, even reckless, but loyalty to Stryker ran deep. Logan wasn’t sure he’d want to risk involving him in this… not yet.

He looked down at her, taking in the way she leaned into him, her fingers trembling slightly as they entwined with his. She was strong, maybe stronger than he’d given her credit for, but there was a fragility to her now, a vulnerability she couldn’t quite hide. He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe from the mess he knew was waiting for them on the other side of this door.

“We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his voice a low promise, rough but steady. “I’m not letting anything happen to you. I swear it.”

She nodded, her gaze steady on his, a glimmer of trust in her eyes mixed with the fear she couldn’t quite shake. Slowly, she leaned into him, pressing her forehead against his chest as if anchoring herself to him. Her fingers tightened around his, and he felt her take a shaky breath, steadying herself.

In the back of his mind, he knew the reality they’d soon have to face. Stryker wouldn’t back down, and the second he realized Logan was no longer his loyal soldier, he’d come after both of them with everything he had. Logan would have to be smart, and careful—because this wasn’t just his fight anymore. He was protecting her, and he’d go through hell before he let Stryker get his hands on her.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan reluctantly left her apartment in the early morning light, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He hadn’t slept, his mind racing with thoughts of how to protect her, how to find a way out of this mess. It had been two months since he and Wade had first arrived in this city, sent by Stryker on what had felt like a routine assignment. But now, everything was different. He wasn’t just hunting down a journalist anymore. He was trying to protect her, and the stakes felt higher than they’d ever been.

He walked down the hall to his apartment, already tense as he thought about facing Wade. Wade wasn’t stupid; he’d been watching Logan grow more distracted, more distant. Sooner or later, Wade would start asking questions.

Logan opened the door, expecting to find Wade sprawled on the couch in his usual state of early-morning oblivion. But instead, he froze in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Wade was sitting upright, his expression oddly tight, watching as Stryker stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back. And next to Stryker, like some silent shadow, was Victor, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a feral smile playing on his lips.

Logan’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t a casual check-in. Stryker and Victor didn’t just drop by without a reason. And the fact that they were here, together, sent a clear message: Stryker was losing patience.

“There he is. The big guy,” Wade said with a forced smile, his eyes flicking over to Logan. “Been wondering where you got off to.”

Logan shot him a hard look, cutting off any more commentary. “Been following a lead,” he said, his tone clipped, hoping Wade would understand the warning. “Another dead end.”

Stryker turned, his gaze sharp and assessing, a faint smirk on his face as if he could see right through Logan’s words. “Seems like you’ve been running into a lot of those lately, Logan,” he said, voice cold and controlled. “It’s almost as if you’re not taking this mission seriously.”

Logan clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’re the one who sent us out here with nothing but scraps to go on,” he replied, his voice edged with frustration. “If you want results, maybe you should’ve given us more than vague orders and a damn ghost to chase.”

Stryker’s smirk widened, but his eyes were steel. “Funny. I thought I gave two of my best men an easy task. Thought you’d be able to handle a simple journalist.” He let the word linger, his gaze narrowing. “Maybe I was wrong.”

Beside him, Victor let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound crawling up Logan’s spine. “Guess little brother’s gone soft,” Victor said, his grin sharp and predatory. “Maybe you need a little help… cleaning things up.”

Logan tensed, feeling the familiar pulse of anger at Victor’s taunt, but he held himself in check. He couldn’t afford to show weakness, not now. “We don’t need your help,” he said flatly, his eyes locked on Stryker. “We’re close. Just need a little more time.”

Stryker raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from Logan to Wade, lingering just long enough that Logan felt a flicker of unease. “Close?” he repeated, a hint of mockery in his voice. “Interesting, because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re stalled. Distracted, even.”

Logan forced himself to stay calm, but he could feel the weight of Stryker’s scrutiny, the way his gaze seemed to strip away the layers, looking for cracks. He could only hope that his face betrayed nothing.

Stryker continued, his voice low, almost a murmur. “You know, I’ve heard some… interesting things about this journalist. Reserved. Guarded. Not the type to let things go. The kind who might blend in, fly under the radar.”

Logan’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face impassive, refusing to give anything away. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wade’s expression shift slightly, a glimmer of realization in his gaze. Logan felt a jolt of alarm as he saw Wade put two and two together. But to his relief, Wade stayed quiet, his face carefully neutral.

Stryker’s gaze sharpened. “So, let me be clear. I don’t care how ‘close’ you think you are. If I don’t see results soon, I’ll send someone else to finish the job. Someone with… fewer sentimental attachments.”

Victor’s grin widened, his gaze fixed on Logan like a predator sizing up its prey. “Wouldn’t mind a shot at this mystery journalist myself,” he drawled, his tone laced with menace. “I’ve got a knack for finding people who don’t want to be found. And once I find them…” He flexed his fingers, his claws slipping out, gleaming under the dim light. “Well, let’s just say they don’t stay hidden for long.”

Logan forced himself to stay steady, even as his pulse pounded in his ears. He knew exactly what Victor was capable of, and the thought of Victor tracking her down, getting his claws anywhere near her, made his stomach turn. He wanted to tear into Victor, to tell Stryker to back off, but he knew he couldn’t afford to give anything away. Not now. Not with her life on the line.

“Give us another week,” Logan said, his voice steady but laced with an edge of warning. “We’ll find them. You have my word.”

Stryker tilted his head, considering him, his expression unreadable. For a moment, there was silence, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Then he gave a slow, cold smile. “Two days,” he said, holding Logan’s gaze with an intensity that made it clear he wasn’t offering any second chances. “After that… well, let’s just say I don’t think Victor will have much trouble picking up where you left off.”

Logan gave a tight nod, refusing to look at Victor as he spoke. “Understood.”

Stryker’s smile widened, satisfied. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to it.” He turned, gesturing for Victor to follow, but paused at the door, looking back over his shoulder. “And Logan? Make sure your priorities are… clear. I’d hate to think you were letting personal feelings get in the way of your work.”

With that, he strode out, Victor trailing behind him with one last lingering look that sent a shiver down Logan’s spine.

The door closed, leaving Logan and Wade alone in heavy silence. Wade sat back, crossing his arms, his expression unreadable as he studied Logan.

“So,” Wade said slowly, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “The journalist. Guarded, quiet… maybe someone who likes books, keeps to herself. Ring any bells?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, refusing to meet Wade’s gaze. “Drop it.”

Wade didn’t. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Look, Logan, I get it. But if you’re gonna do this, you’d better be sure, because if Stryker finds out…” He trailed off, his meaning clear.

Logan closed his eyes for a brief second, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “I know the risks,” he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “But I’m not letting them touch her.”

Wade studied him for a long moment, and Logan could see the gears turning in his mind, the flicker of understanding mixed with reluctant respect. Finally, Wade leaned back, letting out a low sigh.

“Then we’d better make this convincing,” Wade muttered, his voice low, wary. “Because if Stryker or Victor get even a whiff of what’s going on, it’s over.”

Logan nodded, feeling his resolve harden into something sharp and unyielding. He knew what was at stake, knew the dangers that lurked in every step they took from here on out. Stryker had given him a week, but Logan didn’t trust him to keep that promise—not when he’d seen the glint in Victor’s eyes, the barely restrained hunger. Victor would do it in a heartbeat if he thought it’d get him back in Stryker’s good graces. Logan could practically feel the weight of the clock ticking down, and he knew he had to move fast.

“She didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Logan muttered, more to himself than to Wade. “She just… she wanted to expose the system. Stryker. Everything he’s done to us.” His voice caught, the frustration and regret boiling beneath the surface. “She didn’t deserve this.”

Wade studied him quietly, a strange seriousness in his gaze. “Yeah, well, maybe she didn’t,” he replied, almost reluctantly. “You think I’m okay with half the things we’ve done? Or with the shit Stryker’s made us do? Hell, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about getting out myself if I thought there was a real chance.”

Logan looked at him, surprised. Wade rarely let his guard down, especially when it came to their line of work. This was a side of him Logan hadn’t seen before—raw, unguarded.

Wade sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, man. I’ll help you,” he said, his voice softer now, carrying a note of real sincerity. “I don’t want her getting hurt, either. I’m not a monster. I know what Stryker will do if he gets his hands on her.” He paused, his gaze steady. “She doesn’t deserve that. And neither do you.”

Logan swallowed, the weight of Wade’s words settling over him like a lifeline he hadn’t known he needed. “So what are you suggesting?” he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud might shatter the fragile trust hanging between them.

Wade’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “If we’re gonna keep her out of Stryker’s sights, we’re gonna need to make this whole thing look legit,” he said, his tone calculating. “Stryker thinks we’re fumbling around because we don’t have any real leads. What if we… create a lead?”

Logan’s brow furrowed. “You mean fake it? Give Stryker something to chase?”

“Exactly,” Wade replied, his lips curving into a sly grin. “We leak a location, a name—hell, we can even plant some fake documents somewhere. Make him think she skipped town, got scared, and ran. If he’s chasing a ghost, he won’t have time to look too closely at what’s right under his nose.”

Logan felt a surge of hope, a sliver of light cutting through the tension. “You think he’ll buy it?”

Wade shrugged. “Stryker’s not as sharp as he likes to think he is. He’ll buy it if we sell it right.” He paused, a hint of doubt flickering in his eyes. “But you have to be careful. We make this move, and it’ll have to be airtight. Stryker doesn’t give second chances, especially not to his own men.”

Logan clenched his jaw, the gravity of Wade’s plan sinking in. It was risky. If Stryker suspected even for a second that they were feeding him false information, he’d come down on both of them—hard. But if it worked… it could buy them the time they needed.

“All right,” Logan said, his voice resolute. “We do this. We give him a trail to follow, keep him looking in the wrong places.”

Wade nodded, his expression grim but determined. “We’ll need to make it convincing. A name, maybe a fake contact, some breadcrumbs leading Stryker out of town.” He hesitated, then added, “And we’ll have to act like nothing’s changed. Like we’re still hunting her down.”

Logan felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest. He hated the idea of lying to her, of making her think he was still on Stryker’s leash. But he knew there was no other way. Stryker had eyes everywhere, and the slightest slip could put her life in even greater danger.

“We can’t tell her,” Logan murmured, more to himself than to Wade. “She can’t know we’re setting this up.”

Wade’s gaze softened, a rare flicker of sympathy in his usually sardonic eyes. “She doesn’t need to know,” he agreed. “Sometimes it’s better that way. Protects her, keeps her out of the crossfire.” He gave Logan a measured look. “Just… make sure she knows she can trust you. Because if she doesn’t, this whole thing falls apart.”

Logan nodded, steeling himself. “She’ll trust me,” he said, his voice low and firm. “I won’t let her down.”

A tense silence fell over them, each of them lost in thought, running through the plan in their minds. Finally, Wade broke the quiet, his voice barely more than a murmur. “One more thing,” he said, his gaze flickering toward the door as if expecting Stryker or Victor to barge back in at any moment. “Victor’s already suspicious. I saw the way he was looking at you like he knew something was off. If he gets even a hint of what we’re doing…”

Logan’s face hardened a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’ll handle Victor.”

Wade studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “All right. Then we’re doing this.” He clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder, his tone a mix of seriousness and forced humor. “Look at us, playing the heroes. Who would’ve thought?”

Logan managed a tight smile, but his mind was already racing with what had to happen next. He’d have to lie to her, to keep her in the dark while they set up the fake trail. He’d have to act like nothing had changed like he was still hunting her down—even as he worked to protect her.

“Thanks, Wade,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.

Wade shrugged, giving him a faint smirk. “Don’t thank me yet. Let’s get through this first.” He glanced over his shoulder, his expression turning grim again. “And let’s hope Stryker buys what we’re selling. Otherwise… this could get messy. Real fast.”

Logan nodded the weight of the plan settling on his shoulders. They had one shot to pull this off, to create a believable enough story to keep Stryker and Victor off her trail. He knew it was a gamble, but it was the only chance he had to protect her—to keep her out of Stryker’s reach.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan’s mind churned with the details Wade had suggested, the lies they’d need to tell to sell this deception. He’d be walking a razor-thin line, but he was prepared to do whatever it took to protect her. But as he made his way down the hall to her apartment, a faint sense of unease prickled in his chest, like he was already too late.

He paused at her door, listening, making sure the hallway was empty before he knocked. A few seconds passed, and then the door cracked open, her wary eyes peeking through. Relief softened her face when she saw him.

“Oh, hey,” she said quietly, pulling the door open wider to let him in.

Logan stepped inside, closing the door firmly behind him and turning the lock, his eyes immediately scanning her small living space—a habit he’d developed since deciding to keep her safe. But something was different. There was an energy in the room, a tension he couldn’t quite place… until he noticed the duffle bag sitting on her couch, half-filled with clothes, a few books, and a stack of papers she’d been hastily shoving inside.

He froze, his stomach twisting. “Going somewhere?” he asked, trying to keep his tone steady.

She glanced at him, her expression conflicted. “Logan…” she started, her voice a mixture of determination and regret. She dropped another shirt into the bag, then zipped it up, her hands lingering on the worn fabric for a moment. “I have to go. I can’t stay here anymore.”

Logan’s chest tightened. Part of him wanted to be proud of her for being so smart, so aware of the danger circling them. But a much larger part of him was panicking, scrambling for a way to keep her here, to keep her safe. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice low, urgent. “You don’t have to run.”

She shook her head, letting out a shaky breath as she straightened, her eyes meeting his with a fierce resolve. “Yes, I do, Logan. You know it as well as I do. You’re not the only one they’ll send after me. If you’re not going to… finish the job, someone else will.”

He clenched his fists, frustration, and fear tightening his throat. She was right, of course, and it made him want to tear down the entire system that had brought them to this point. But he couldn’t just let her walk away. “You think I can’t protect you?” he asked, his voice rough, almost a growl.

She softened, stepping closer to him, reaching up to place a gentle hand on his cheek. “I know you can,” she murmured. “If there’s anyone in this world I’d trust with my life, it’s you. But that’s exactly why I have to go. I can’t let you risk everything for me.”

Logan swallowed hard, his heart pounding at her touch, at the weight of her words. “I don’t care about the risks,” he whispered fiercely, covering her hand with his. “I’m not letting them touch you. Not Stryker, not Victor… no one.”

Her eyes glistened, and for a moment, he saw the vulnerability beneath her determination, the quiet fear she’d been trying so hard to hide. But she shook her head, pulling her hand back. “I won’t be the reason something happens to you. I won’t be responsible for that.”

“You’re not responsible for anything except staying safe,” he countered, his voice barely controlled. “I’ve got a plan. Wade and I, we’re gonna mislead Stryker, make him think you’re gone, that you’ve disappeared.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering with hope before it dimmed again. “That’ll only work for so long. Sooner or later, Stryker will figure it out, and he’ll send someone else to hunt me down. You know that.”

Logan gritted his teeth, fighting the frustration boiling under his skin. “Then I’ll deal with it when that happens,” he said, his tone fierce, final. “I’m not letting you throw yourself out there, just waiting for them to find you.”

She let out a bitter laugh, her voice trembling. “Logan, do you hear yourself? You’re talking about going up against Stryker, against Victor, against all of them. They’ll come after you, too. They’ll kill you. And I… I can’t have that on my conscience.”

“Then don’t,” he shot back, taking a step closer, his gaze burning into hers. “Don’t put this all on you. I’m choosing this, understand? This isn’t about guilt or responsibility. It’s about me protecting the one good thing I’ve found in a long, damn time. And I’m not walking away from that. Not now.”

Her breath caught, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She reached up to touch his face again, her fingers trembling. “Logan… I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t want you to get involved, to risk everything for me.”

“Too late,” he murmured, his voice softer now, filled with a raw honesty that he couldn’t hide. “I’m already involved. I’m not walking away.”

She stared at him, torn, her gaze searching his face as if looking for some reassurance, some certainty. Slowly, she lowered her hand, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Logan… if I stay, it’ll only make things worse. You and Wade might be able to mislead them for a little while, but eventually… eventually, they’ll catch up. And I can’t keep hiding, knowing that every second, you’re risking your life just to keep me safe.”

Logan took a deep breath, trying to keep himself steady. He understood her fear, her need to run. But he couldn’t let her go. Not when he knew exactly what would happen if she faced Stryker’s men on her own. “Then let me come with you,” he said quietly. “We’ll disappear together. Start fresh somewhere. Somewhere they can’t find us.”

She looked at him, surprised, her eyes widening. “You’d… you’d leave everything behind?”

“In a heartbeat,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “I’d leave it all if it meant keeping you safe. You think I care about Stryker? About Team X? That life’s got nothing for me. Not anymore.”

Finally, she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. “If you do this… there’s no going back.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He took her hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle circles over her knuckles. “But if it means keeping you safe, keeping you with me… then it’s worth it.”

After a moment, she squeezed his hand, nodding slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but filled with a quiet resolve.

Logan pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tightly, as if he could shield her from every danger waiting outside her door. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, steady and warm, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Just trust me, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but fierce. He needed her to believe him, to know he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

She nodded against his chest, her face buried against him, her hands moving up and down his back in gentle, comforting circles. For a while, they stood there in silence, wrapped in each other, until she looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with something that went beyond fear—something softer, deeper.

“Logan,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She hesitated, searching his face. “Would you… kiss me?”

Her voice was fragile like she was afraid the question might break something between them. He looked down at her, taking in the delicate curve of her lips, the way they parted slightly as she spoke. Her cheeks were flushed, her gaze open and vulnerable in a way that hit him like a punch to the gut.

He swallowed, his thumb brushing over her cheek, unsure if she truly wanted this or if it was just the adrenaline, the danger, that was pushing her toward him. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “Is this… because of what’s happening? Or do you—”

But she silenced him by leaning in, her lips brushing softly against his. Her fingers slipped up to tangle in his hair. She kissed him like she was gathering her courage, like every fear, every doubt, was melting away with that one simple touch.

When she pulled back, her eyes met his, and he saw the truth there, raw and honest. “I’ve wanted this for a while,” she murmured, her voice steady, no hesitation left. “Hell, probably since that night at the club… but I was scared. Scared of what you might see if I let you in. Scared of getting close, because… because I thought I’d lose you, too.” She let out a shaky breath. “But I’m not scared anymore.”

Logan felt his defenses crumble, the walls he’d built around himself falling away under the weight of her words. She wasn’t running, wasn’t hiding behind excuses or fear. She was standing there, bare and unguarded, and trusting him with her heart. His chest tightened, an ache spreading through him as he realized just how much he needed this—needed her.

He leaned down slowly, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted, but she didn’t move. Her gaze held his, steady and waiting, and he closed the remaining space between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, he felt the intensity build, something raw and desperate spilling over between them.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, her lips parting against his, and he deepened the kiss, pouring every unsaid word, every unspoken feeling into it. She tasted like warmth and hope and everything he’d thought he couldn’t have, everything he’d thought he’d lost. He held her close, his hands splaying across her back, anchoring her to him as if letting go wasn’t even an option.

“I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and fierce. “Not while I’m here.”

She smiled, her gaze soft yet intense, and he felt her hands drift to his chest, coming to rest just over his heart. Her touch was light but grounding, a steady warmth that seemed to settle him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. “I know,” she whispered, her voice carrying a quiet certainty that made his heartache.

Her fingers moved slowly, almost reverently, tracing the lines of his chest before they dipped down to the hem of his shirt. She hesitated, looking up at him for permission, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and need. Logan felt his breath hitch as she tugged gently at the fabric, her silent invitation hanging in the air between them.

For a moment, he froze, an instinctive caution holding him back. This was dangerous, selfish even. He knew he should be focusing on getting her to safety, on keeping his guard up. But with her here, looking at him like he was something more than a weapon, something worth risking everything for… he felt his resolve crumble. If this was the only chance they’d have to be together, then he couldn’t bring himself to turn it away. He needed her, needed this moment—something real and honest before everything went dark again.

With a quiet exhale, he lifted his arms, helping her pull his shirt over his head. Her fingers trailed against his skin as the fabric slipped away, leaving a faint trail of warmth in their wake. He could see the way she looked at him, her gaze softening as she took him in, the faint scars across his chest, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing under her touch.

Before he could say anything, she leaned up, pulling him into another kiss. This one was deeper, bolder, a raw edge of longing slipping into the gentle rhythm. Her hands moved up his chest, exploring the contours of his body with a quiet reverence that made him shiver. He wrapped his arms around her, guiding her backward, his hands steady on her waist as they sank onto the couch together.

They moved slowly, unhurried, as if savoring each touch, each shared breath. Her hands roamed over his bare skin, tracing the lines of muscle like she was memorizing him, piece by piece. There was a tenderness in her touch, a quiet understanding that made him feel seen, not just as Logan the soldier, the protector, but as something more—a man who had carried his pain, his regrets, and was finally allowing someone else in.

Her lips brushed along his jaw, down his neck, each touch light but deliberate, and he closed his eyes, letting himself be vulnerable in a way he never allowed himself to be. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair, her breath warm against his skin, and the weight of the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the quiet intimacy between them.

She pulled him closer, her fingers tracing along his shoulders. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, steady and sure, grounding him in the moment. Every touch, every kiss was filled with a quiet urgency, an unspoken understanding that this might be all they had—a single, stolen night in a world that didn’t want them to exist together.

Her hands slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans, her fingertips trailing softly over his skin, and Logan shuddered under her touch. It wasn’t something he was used to—being touched like this, with care, with reverence—but he leaned into it, letting her pull him closer. His own hands moved instinctively, gliding down the curve of her back, mapping every line, every delicate angle as if trying to commit her to memory.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her words full of quiet sincerity as she tugged his jeans down his hips. Her eyes roamed over him, taking him in as if he were something precious.

Logan huffed out a quiet laugh, the sound rough and unpracticed. “Beautiful?” he echoed, a faint, self-deprecating grin tugging at his lips. It was strange hearing that word directed at him—foreign in a way that made him feel both exposed and disarmed. “I’m looking at beautiful, and it sure as hell isn’t me.”

She shook her head, a gentle smile softening her features. “You don’t see it, do you?” she said, her gaze steady and unwavering, as though daring him to believe her. Before he could respond, she leaned down, brushing her lips against his, silencing his doubts. The kiss deepened, slow and consuming, and Logan felt the world narrow until it was just her—her hands, her lips, her warmth against him.

His hands moved to undress her in return, his touch deliberate and steady. He didn’t rush, savoring every inch of newly revealed skin, every sigh and soft laugh that escaped her lips as their barriers fell away, one by one, until there was nothing left between them.

Her body fit against his like it had always been meant to, her warmth grounding him as they moved together, finding a rhythm that felt both new and ancient, as if they’d known each other in a thousand lifetimes before this one. Logan let himself get lost in her—her touch, her scent, the quiet, breathless way she said his name like it was something sacred. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself feel fully present, fully alive.

When it was over, they lay tangled together in silence for a while, the room dark and still, their own private world created in the quiet spaces between breaths. Her head rested against his chest, her breath warm and steady, rising and falling in time with his. Logan ran his fingers through her hair absentmindedly, marveling at the softness of it, at how natural it felt to hold her like this. He felt her fingertips tracing lazy patterns along his side, as if she couldn’t bear to let go of him entirely. He wanted to say something, to tell her that he’d protect her, that he’d find a way to keep her safe no matter what. But he knew that promises like that were fragile, easily broken.

Instead, he pulled her a little closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “No matter what happens tomorrow… tonight was real,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “This—us—it’s real.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with a quiet strength. “I know,” she whispered, her fingers tracing gentle circles on his chest. “You deserve this, Logan. You deserve to be seen…and to be loved.” Her voice wavered slightly on the last word, but she didn’t look away. 

Those words hit harder than he’d ever admit. He swallowed thickly, his throat tight. He wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, that he wasn’t worth all this. But the way she looked at him—steady, unflinching—made it impossible. She meant it. She saw all the broken, jagged pieces of him, and she wasn’t afraid of them.

He nodded once, unable to speak, and pulled her back down into his arms. She settled against him, her body curling naturally into his, and he let his hand trace down her back again, slow and deliberate. He closed his eyes, resting his chin against the top of her head. 

The apartment settled into quiet stillness, a fragile peace settling over them. They both knew the danger waiting just outside these walls, the fight that lay ahead was far from over. However, Logan knew he’d fight a thousand battles to keep this feeling, this moment. 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

A loud banging jolted Logan awake, dragging him out of a restless sleep. He shot upright, disoriented, the harsh sound echoing through the quiet apartment. In his confusion, he rolled off the couch, hitting the floor hard. He cursed under his breath, fumbling to pull on his jeans when a sick feeling settled in his gut.

She was gone.

His eyes darted around the room, his heart pounding as he took in the emptiness around him. Her coat was missing from the hook by the door, and the books and papers she’d been packing away last night were gone. The duffle bag she’d packed was gone. 

He rushed through the apartment, searching—her bedroom, the bathroom, every small corner where she might have left something behind. But it was empty. 

No, no, no, he thought, his chest tightening with a fierce, helpless frustration. She’d left without a word, without so much as a note. After everything they’d shared, after he’d sworn he’d keep her safe… she’d still chosen to leave.

The banging on the door grew louder, more insistent, accompanied by a voice muffled through the thin walls. “Logan! Open the damn door!” It was Wade, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to move, couldn’t pull himself out of the numb shock settling over him. She was gone, and he didn’t know where. His promise to protect her felt hollow, empty.

He stood in the middle of her apartment, his eyes scanning the space as if hoping for some clue, something she’d left behind that would help him understand why she’d run. But there was nothing. Just the quiet, heavy emptiness where she’d been.

The banging turned into a relentless pounding. “Logan! For god’s sake, open up!” Wade’s voice was growing louder, more urgent.

Logan clenched his jaw, swallowing the knot in his throat. He headed toward the door with a sense of dread pooling in his stomach. When he opened it, Wade practically stumbled inside, his expression unusually serious.

“Finally,” Wade muttered, glancing over Logan’s shoulder as if expecting to see her. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been pounding on this door for ten minutes.”

Logan’s gaze was hard, distant. “She’s gone, Wade,” he said, his voice rough. “I woke up, and… she was just gone.”

Wade’s face twisted in a grimace, and he ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I figured. She came by the apartment earlier. Banged on our door like her life depended on it. Woke me up.” He gave Logan a look that was half sympathy, half irritation. “She told me to tell you… she was sorry.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, anger and frustration boiling beneath the surface. Sorry. She’d left him with nothing but an apology after he’d risked everything to protect her. After he’d trusted her, let her in… after he’d started to think they could build something together.

“Did she say anything else?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “Anything about where she was going?”

Wade shook his head, his expression darkening. “No. I’m sorry but it’s smart she got out of here.” He glanced over his shoulder, lowering his voice. “We’ve got a problem. I think Stryker’s onto us. He’s been sniffing around. I caught Victor hanging around across the street.” 

Logan’s fists clenched at his sides, the weight of the situation settling heavily on him. Of course, Stryker knew something was up. He should have expected this. The plan had always been risky, a desperate attempt to mislead a man who saw through lies like smoke. And now, with her gone, the whole thing was falling apart.

Wade leaned closer, his voice low and urgent. “Look, we need to move fast. Whatever you’re planning, we gotta do it now. If Stryker’s catching on, it’s only a matter of time before he comes after her for real. And if he finds her…” He trailed off, his meaning clear.

Logan’s heart hammered as he forced himself to focus, trying to pull his mind back from the raw edge of loss and anger. “She thinks she’s protecting me,” he said bitterly, more to himself than to Wade. “Running because she thinks I’ll be safer if she’s not here.”

Wade raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of exasperation and reluctant sympathy. “Sounds like she’s smarter than the both of us. Hell, I’d run too if I thought it would keep me off Victor’s radar.”

Logan shot him a hard look, his fists clenching tighter. “She doesn’t know what she’s up against.”

“Maybe not,” Wade agreed, his tone unusually serious. “But she’s doing what she thinks is right. And for what it’s worth, I respect that. She’s not sitting around, waiting to be rescued. She’s trying to keep you out of this mess, and that’s… something.”

Logan felt a surge of frustration, the helplessness gnawing at him. “I don’t care what she thinks she’s doing. I’m not letting her face Stryker and Victor on her own.” His voice hardened, his resolve solidifying into something fierce and unbreakable. “I told her I’d protect her. And I damn well meant it.”

Wade looked at him, his gaze steady. “Then we’re gonna need to be smart about this,” he said, his voice low. “If she’s already on the move, there’s a good chance Stryker’s got eyes out for her. You need to get to her first before they do.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his mind racing as he considered their options. “We can use the plan. Fake her trail, lead Stryker in the wrong direction. But if he’s already suspicious…”

Wade shrugged, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Then we make him more suspicious. Feed him a lead so juicy he won’t be able to resist it. We throw everything we’ve got into it. Make it big, make it messy. Enough to keep him off her back while we get her out of here for good.”

Logan nodded slowly, a grim determination settling over him. It was risky, and it would take every bit of their combined skills to pull it off. But if it meant keeping her safe—if it meant giving her a chance to disappear, to live her life free of Stryker’s shadow—then he’d do whatever it took.

“All right,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Let’s get moving.”

Wade nodded, clapping him on the shoulder, his gaze sharp and focused. “You find her, I’ll handle the rest. Give me a few hours, and I’ll have Stryker running in circles.”

Logan looked at him, the unspoken gratitude clear in his eyes. “Thanks, Wade.”

Wade gave him a crooked smile. “Don’t thank me yet. Just don’t get yourself killed, all right? I’m not doing this solo.”

Logan managed a faint smirk, but his mind was already racing, already focused on one thing: finding her, convincing her that she didn’t have to run, that they could face this together.

He’d promised to protect her. No matter the cost, he was going to keep that promise.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan followed her scent for miles, his truck tearing down winding backroads, kicking up dust as he pushed it to the limit. Her trail was faint but steady, and he clung to it like a lifeline, refusing to let himself consider what would happen if he lost it. By the time he’d driven nearly thirty miles out of town, the sun was setting, casting long shadows over the dense trees that lined the road. He pulled into a tiny, near-deserted town nestled against the edge of a sprawling forest. It was the kind of place you could disappear in, where strangers barely looked at each other and the silence was thick, almost eerie.

He parked his truck just outside a rundown motel, the scent of pine and damp earth mixing with her faint trace. She was close—he could feel it. A flicker of relief spread through him, mingling with the desperation he’d been fighting back since he’d found her apartment empty. He started toward the motel, his mind racing with what he’d say to her, how he’d convince her to stop running, to trust him one last time.

Just as he stepped onto the gravel path, he felt it—a familiar, chilling presence. A dark shadow in the periphery, slipping out from behind the trees like a predator closing in on its prey.

Logan stopped, every muscle tensing. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Gotta say, little brother,” came the low, mocking drawl, “didn’t think you’d make it this easy for me.”

Logan clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he turned slowly, his gaze locking onto Victor’s hulking figure. Victor leaned against a tree, his arms crossed, that twisted grin on his face, eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous.

“You really shouldn’t be here, Victor,” Logan said, his voice a low, deadly warning. “Walk away. This doesn’t concern you.”

Victor let out a harsh laugh, pushing himself off the tree and stepping closer, his gaze sharp, predatory. “Oh, but it does concern me,” he sneered. “Stryker sent me to clean up your mess, seeing as you’ve gone all soft on us. Figured if you weren’t gonna take care of business, I’d handle it myself.”

Logan felt a surge of rage, his hands flexing at his sides. “You’re not touching her,” he growled. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

Victor smirked, cocking his head as he looked Logan up and down, clearly enjoying the fire in his brother’s eyes. “Funny. That’s not what she thought a few months ago.” He took another step closer, his gaze cold and unfeeling. “Didn’t tell you, did she? I was the one who had a little chat with her back then. Warned her to stay out of Stryker’s business. But she didn’t listen. Thought she could just run off and hide.” He shrugged a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Should’ve put her down right then and there.”

Logan’s heart pounded as the pieces finally snapped into place. It had been Victor all along. Victor was the one who’d made her life hell, who’d driven her to run, who’d forced her into the shadows with a constant, gnawing fear that never left her. And now he was here, ready to finish what he’d started.

“You threatened her,” Logan growled, his voice dangerously low, each word laced with barely controlled fury. “That’s why she left her job. Why she has been looking over her shoulder this whole time? You’re the reason she’s running.”

Victor chuckled, a dark, twisted sound that only fueled Logan’s rage. “Yeah, she needed a little lesson in minding her own business,” he sneered, taking a slow, taunting step closer. “She was asking too many damn questions, poking her nose where it didn’t belong. Someone had to remind her there are places you don’t go unless you want trouble.” He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with disdain. “And now, here you are, risking your neck for some nosy little journalist who should’ve known better. Makes me wonder if you’ve forgotten who you really are.”

Logan’s fists clenched, the muscles in his arms coiling like springs ready to snap. His knuckles were bone-white, barely containing the rage building inside him. “You don’t know a damn thing about her,” he spat, his voice cold, lethal.

Victor’s grin widened, his satisfaction evident in the cruel spark in his eyes. “Oh, I know enough. Enough to see she’s turned you soft.” He let the word hang, taunting. “The Logan I knew wouldn’t be wasting his time on some pathetic little tagalong. The Logan I knew would’ve put a claw through her throat the second she got too close.” He shook his head in mock disappointment, his voice dripping with venom. “But now? Now you’re just a lovesick fool.”

Logan took a step forward, his chest heaving, the air around him almost vibrating with barely restrained violence. His voice was low, and steady, each word sharp as a blade. “Call it whatever you want. But you lay one finger on her, and I’ll rip you apart.”

Victor’s expression darkened, his twisted smirk fading as he squared up to Logan, rolling his shoulders, his fists clenching in anticipation. “You really think you can protect her from me? From us?” he sneered. “She’s a loose end, and I don’t leave loose ends.”

Logan felt a familiar, white-hot fury boiling up inside him. It was all starting to make sense now—Stryker’s vague orders, the lack of intel. Stryker hadn’t known the journalist’s identity at first. He’d been kept in the dark, fed just enough information to justify sending Logan and Wade on this mission. Meanwhile, Victor, arrogant and reckless, had dismissed her as a minor annoyance… until Stryker finally connected the dots and ordered her elimination.

Now, with Stryker’s orders confirmed, Victor was out for blood. He didn’t just see her as a target—he saw her as a loose end he should have handled himself long ago. And in Victor’s world, there was no forgiveness for those kinds of mistakes.

Logan knew he should keep a clear head, and should think strategically. But hearing Victor talk about her like that—as if she were nothing as if she didn’t matter—sent a roar of anger through his veins, drowning out any restraint he’d managed to hold onto.

Logan bared his teeth, the raw anger coiled tight within him. “Let Stryker try,” he snarled. “I’ll take him down myself if I have to. And you? You’re gonna regret coming here.”

Victor let out a low, menacing laugh, shaking his head. “Always so dramatic.” He glanced toward the motel, a twisted gleam in his eyes. “You think she’s safe in there? Right now, hiding, waiting for you to come sweep her off her feet? She’s already dead, Logan. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

Logan lunged forward, fists flying as he swung at Victor with everything he had. But Victor was ready, sidestepping and delivering a brutal punch to Logan’s ribs, sending him staggering back. Pain flared up his side, but Logan didn’t back down. He launched himself at Victor again, his claws slipping out.

They clashed in a blur of movement, snarling, claws slashing, each one trying to gain the upper hand. The forest echoed with the sounds of their struggle, leaves crunching underfoot as they grappled, neither willing to give an inch. Logan could feel the bruises forming, the sting of cuts across his skin, but he pushed it aside, focusing only on one thing: keeping Victor away from her.

Victor laughed, a cruel sound that grated against Logan’s ears. “You’re wasting your time, little brother,” he taunted, dodging another swing. “You can’t protect her from this. You’re only dragging it out, making it harder for her in the end.”

Logan’s vision blurred with rage, his mind flashing to her face, the way she’d looked at him last night with such trust, such faith. “I’ll protect her from you, from Stryker, from anyone who tries to hurt her,” he spat. “She’s not just some target.”

Victor’s grin faded, something dark flickering in his eyes as he lunged forward, their faces inches apart. “Then you’re as good as dead,” he whispered, his voice filled with cold certainty. “Because if you don’t kill her, I will.”

The words sliced through Logan, sharp and vicious, and he knew—this wasn’t just about her. This was about everything Victor and Stryker had made him into, everything he’d spent his life running from. And now, standing in the middle of this empty forest, he had a choice.

He drew back, chest heaving, glaring at Victor with a look of pure determination. “Not this time,” he growled. “You don’t get to take this from me.” 

Victor smirked, but there was something wary in his gaze now. “We were supposed to stay by each other.” 

Before Logan could respond, Victor backed away, his eyes never leaving Logan’s, a silent promise of the bloodshed to come. Logan watched him disappear into the trees, his chest heaving as he fought to steady his breath. He knew Victor would be back. He knew Stryker wouldn’t stop until she was dead.

Logan understood why she’d run. He hated it, but he understood. He’d brought Victor here, right to her doorstep, and now she was in danger all over again. He felt a surge of frustration at himself, at the whole damn situation, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

He looked up at the rundown motel in front of him, its paint peeling and windows grimy, blending into the shadows of the forest like it had something to hide. Part of him knew he should keep his distance, and avoid drawing attention to her last known location. But he couldn’t just walk away, not without making sure she was okay.

Following her scent, he made his way down the narrow row of rooms until he stopped in front of one of the doors, his pulse pounding in his ears. Her scent lingered here, strong but fading. He knocked softly, hoping she was inside, praying she’d throw open the door and let him tell her that they could figure this out, that she didn’t have to run.

But there was only silence. The door creaked open under his touch, swinging inward with a quiet groan. Logan’s heart sank, dread clawing at him as he stepped inside. The room was empty.

Panic flared up in his chest, and for a split second, his mind went to the worst-case scenario. What if Victor had gotten here first? What if he’d taken her? Logan forced himself to breathe, to push the thought down. He couldn’t afford to lose control, not now.

He took a few steps deeper into the room, eyes scanning every corner. Her scent was everywhere—lingering in the air, clinging to the worn bedspread, the nightstand, the small chair by the window. But she was gone, vanished like a ghost.

A wave of relief washed over him, mixed with an aching sense of loss. She’d left before Victor could get to her, no doubt trying to throw him off her trail. She was smarter than he’d ever given her credit for, brave enough to stay one step ahead. But that didn’t stop the hollow feeling settling in his chest as he realized she was truly gone.

Logan’s gaze drifted to the nightstand beside the bed, where the drawer was pulled slightly open. Something about it caught his eye, and he felt a strange, uneasy pull as he reached for the handle. He slid the drawer open, his heart pounding, and found a folded piece of paper inside.

He unfolded it, his eyes scanning the messy, hurried handwriting that was unmistakably hers.

Logan,

If you’re reading this, it means you found me. Or at least, you came close. I don’t know what I expected, thinking I could slip away from you. You’ve always been relentless, and maybe that’s part of why I…

He paused, his heart clenching as he read the next words, written in smaller, more delicate script.

…why I fell in love with you.

That’s exactly why I can’t stay. I know you’d do anything to protect me, but it’s too dangerous. You’ve already risked so much, and the last thing I want is to be the reason something happens to you. You have your own battles to fight, your own ghosts to face. I can’t be one more burden for you to carry.

I’m sorry for all of this. For dragging you into my mess, for making you feel like you had to choose between protecting me and yourself. You don’t deserve that.

This… us… it’s better this way. I’ll find a way to keep myself safe, and maybe someday, we’ll meet again under different circumstances. But for now, I need you to let me go. 

I’ll always remember you, Logan. The way you looked at me, the way you made me feel like I mattered in a world that had tried so hard to erase me. You gave me something I didn’t know I was missing, and I’ll be grateful for that, always.

Logan’s hand shook as he held the note, his breath catching in his throat. He read the words again, letting each one sink in like a dagger, twisting deeper with every line. She loved him. She loved him enough to let him go, to believe that leaving was the only way to protect him.

A raw ache spread through his chest, mingling with a fierce anger that he couldn’t direct at anyone but himself. She thought she was doing what was best, though she was sparing him somehow. But didn’t she understand? There was no protecting him from this. There was no way he could just let her walk out of his life.

Logan closed his eyes, swallowing hard. He could practically hear her voice in those words, feel her resolve, her heartbreak. She was trying to be strong, to be brave. But she was wrong if she thought he’d let her face this alone.

Logan stared down at the note, his hand shaking as he folded it carefully, the paper crinkling under the pressure of his grip. Her words echoed in his mind, each line a quiet, devastating goodbye as if she thought he could just let her walk away and disappear without a fight. She didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—that there was no version of this world where he’d ever be able to let her go.

He slipped the note into his pocket, the weight of it settling against his heart like a brand, and took a final look around the empty motel room. The faded bedspread, the cracked mirror, the soft imprint of where she’d sat on the edge of the bed—it all seemed to echo with her presence, taunting him with the memory of how close she’d been, how real it had all felt. But now the silence was heavy, a hollow reminder of everything he’d lost, and the anger simmering inside him began to burn hotter.

His jaw tightened, a new determination hardening his features as he spoke softly into the empty room. “Sorry, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice rough, laced with a dark promise. “But you don’t get to decide that for me.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his footsteps heavy and sure. The cool night air hit him as he stepped outside, filling his lungs and sharpening his focus. The quiet town was bathed in moonlight, casting shadows across the deserted streets, and at that moment, Logan knew exactly what he had to do.

He couldn’t keep playing defense, couldn’t keep letting Stryker and Victor call the shots. If he wanted to protect her, to end this once and for all, he’d have to confront the very men who had made him into a weapon. And if they wanted him to be the monster, the animal they’d tried to create… then that’s exactly what he’d show them.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan made it back to the apartment just as dawn was breaking, the pale light casting long shadows across the empty streets. He hadn’t slept and hadn’t stopped moving since he’d left the motel. His mind was on a relentless loop, thinking of her, of Stryker, of the promises he’d made to protect her. But now, as he approached the bar’s entrance, he saw Wade waiting outside, slouched against the wall, a grim expression on his bruised face.

Logan’s eyes narrowed, taking in the fresh cuts and swelling around Wade’s left eye, the blood crusting at the corner of his mouth. His knuckles were raw, split open like he’d been in a hell of a fight. Logan’s stomach twisted.

“What the hell happened?” Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Wade glanced up, managing a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Victor happened. Thought he could beat the crap out of me,” he replied, wiping a smear of blood from his lip with the back of his hand. “I showed him, though. Stabbed him a few times.” He raised one of his katanas, the blade slick with blood that hadn’t yet dried.

Logan’s jaw clenched, his fists curling as he processed what this meant. “Victor was here?” he asked, barely controlling the fury simmering beneath his words.

Wade gave a tight nod, his expression turning serious. “Yeah. Came looking for answers shortly after you left. Seems he figured something was up, and started sniffing around. When I didn’t give him what he wanted, he got… persuasive.” Wade gestured to his bruised face, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t talk, but he knew enough to put two and two together.”

Logan cursed under his breath, pacing in a tight circle as he tried to keep his rage in check. “Did he go back to Stryker?” he demanded.

Wade nodded, wincing as he stretched a bruised shoulder. “Didn’t stick around long enough to ask him, but he took off right after he was done using me as a punching bag. If I had to guess, he’s already reported back to Stryker.”

The implications sank in like a stone. Stryker knew. They’d blown their cover, and it was only a matter of time before Stryker sent everything he had to hunt her down.

“Do you have any idea where they went?” Logan asked, his voice tight, barely controlled. He could feel the urgency gnawing at him, clawing up his spine, urging him to move, to find her before it was too late.

Wade shook his head, his expression frustrated. “No idea. But I did catch him muttering something about an island before he stormed off. Could be nothing… or it could be where Stryker’s holed up.”

“An island?” Logan’s mind raced, trying to connect the pieces. Stryker had always preferred remote locations, places that were hard to reach, and easy to defend. An island would be perfect for him, isolated and far from prying eyes. It would give him every advantage if he was planning to lay a trap.

Wade nodded, his gaze sharp. “Yeah. He didn’t say which one, but I did some digging after he left. There’s an old military facility about twenty miles off the coast. Rumor has it, Stryker’s been using it as a base for… whatever twisted shit he’s been up to lately.”

Logan’s eyes darkened, the pieces falling into place. “If Victor’s told him everything, Stryker will go straight for her. He’ll want answers, want to know how much she knows about Team X.” He didn’t say what they both knew Stryker would do to get those answers. Torture, interrogation… if Stryker got his hands on her, it wouldn’t end until she was broken.

Wade met his gaze, the usual sarcasm gone from his eyes. “Then we’d better move. If we’re gonna catch them, we can’t waste any more time.”

Logan took a deep breath, feeling the fire of determination settle into something ice-cold, something unbreakable. “You’re right. We get to that island, we take out Stryker, and we bring her back.”

Wade gave a grim nod, sheathing his katana with a sharp click. “Finally, something exciting,” he muttered, managing a smirk despite the bruises. “I was getting real tired of this babysitting gig. Let’s go cause some damage.”

Logan didn’t bother responding. His mind was already miles away, focused entirely on the mission ahead. He wouldn’t let Stryker get his hands on her. Not now, not ever. Stryker had taken enough from him, twisted enough lives. This was where it ended.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan and Wade moved through the dense jungle in silence, each step sinking into the thick, damp earth. Shadows clung to them, swallowing their movements in darkness, but Logan’s senses were sharp, honed. The night air was heavy with the scent of pine and saltwater, the distant crash of waves muted by the thick canopy above. Overhead, the moon cast a pale, silver glow, but it barely touched the ground through the dense branches, leaving them in near-total darkness.

They’d anchored the boat a mile offshore, slipping onto the island undetected, and now the fortress loomed ahead—a grim, sprawling structure hidden on the far edge of the island. Tall walls surrounded it, topped with barbed wire that glinted under the floodlights, which swung in sweeping arcs across the perimeter. The place was built like a prison, and somewhere inside, she was trapped.

Wade glanced over, his usual smirk absent, replaced by a focused, steely expression. “So,” he whispered, barely audible over the rustling leaves, “we going in loud, or are we keeping it quiet? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, I’m itching to blow this place to hell.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the fortress. “We ambush them,” he said, his voice low and hard. “Stay together unless they try to split us up. If Stryker tries to run, he’s yours. I’m going for Victor.”

Wade nodded, his eyes gleaming with a hint of wild excitement. “Copy that, boss. But just so we’re clear—if Stryker so much as breathes in my direction, he’s getting a bullet between the eyes.”

They crept to the edge of the outer fence, crouching low as they scanned the patrols circling the perimeter. Wade pulled a pair of wire cutters from his pack and looked at Logan, waiting for the signal. Logan gave a sharp nod, and Wade moved swiftly, slicing through the fence just enough for them to slip through. Together, they moved like shadows, weaving between patrols and ducking under cameras, their every movement silent and precise. They reached the main building, slipping inside just as a guard passed by, oblivious to the intruders in the night.

Inside, the facility was cold and dimly lit, a maze of concrete corridors that smelled of metal and stale air. The hum of machinery vibrated through the walls, punctuated by the distant footsteps of guards. Logan’s senses were on high alert, his every nerve tuned to the sounds around him. And then he heard it—a faint, familiar voice echoing somewhere deep in the building.

His heart twisted, his blood running cold. It was her.

He signaled to Wade, and they moved swiftly through the winding hallways, following the faint sounds of conversation and the occasional clang of metal. They passed locked rooms and sterile, empty cells, their shadows stretching long under the flickering fluorescent lights. Finally, they rounded a corner, coming face-to-face with a heavy metal door at the end of a narrow corridor. There, standing guard with his back to them, was one of Stryker’s men.

Logan didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, his fist connecting with the guard’s jaw before the man could react. The guard crumpled to the ground with a muffled grunt, unconscious before he even hit the floor.

Wade grinned, crouching down to pick up the guard’s keycard. “See? I told you we make a good team.” He swiped the card against the reader, and the door slid open with a mechanical hiss.

They slipped inside, weapons ready, and moved down a long, dimly lit hallway. At the end of it was a small room, and inside, Stryker waited.

He turned as they entered, a smug smile curling across his lips as if he’d been expecting them all along. His gaze flicked between Logan and Wade, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. “Ah, Logan,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mock warmth. “Right on time. I figured you’d come running. It’s almost… predictable.”

Logan’s fists clenched, his claws sliding out with a grinding schlikt. “Where is she?” he growled, his voice low, dangerous.

Stryker chuckled, his tone filled with cold amusement. “So protective. You know, I have to wonder—why are you so attached to this girl, Logan? Don’t tell me you actually care.”

Logan took a step forward, his gaze like steel. “Last chance, Stryker. Where. Is. She?”

Stryker held his ground, his expression unruffled. “You don’t get it, do you?” he sneered, crossing his arms. “This isn’t about her. It’s about you.” He tilted his head, studying Logan with a look of cold calculation. “Deep down, you knew exactly who she was from the moment you met her. Don’t try to deny it. Your instincts—the animal in you—knew she was the target. That’s why you found her so… intriguing.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his eyes locked on Stryker with a deadly intensity.

Stryker smirked, his voice dropping to a taunting whisper. “You’re just a weapon, Logan. A soldier. You may think you care about her, but let’s be honest—you’re only here because she was the job. It’s what you’re made for.”

The words twisted something inside Logan, old wounds reopening under Stryker’s taunts. But he forced himself to keep breathing, to keep control. Stryker was baiting him, trying to push him over the edge.

“Don’t pretend you’re anything more than the animal you are,” Stryker continued, his tone cold, dismissive. “She’s just a loose end, and you—well, you’re just the fool who thought he could be more.”

Logan’s vision went red. He surged forward, slamming Stryker against the wall, his claws hovering just inches from Stryker’s throat. “You don’t know a damn thing about me,” he snarled, his voice shaking with barely restrained rage.

Stryker laughed, even as Logan’s claws pressed dangerously close. “Go on, then. Prove me right. Kill me. Show me you’re exactly what I made you.”

For a moment, Logan’s grip tightened, his muscles coiled, every instinct screaming for him to end this, to make Stryker pay for every life he’d ruined. But then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Wade step forward.

“Logan,” Wade said quietly, his voice surprisingly calm. “He’s not worth it.”

Logan hesitated, the haze of rage clearing just enough for him to hear Wade’s words. Before he could react, Wade stepped forward, swinging the butt of his gun into Stryker’s temple. Stryker crumpled to the ground, unconscious, his mocking smile finally silenced.

Wade glanced at Logan, giving him a knowing look. “You don’t need to dirty your claws on him. Go find her.”

Logan took a steadying breath, his hands still trembling, his heart still pounding with fury. He forced himself to pull back, his gaze shifting away from Stryker and toward the door at the end of the hallway. He could feel her presence somewhere beyond it, faint but steady like a beacon pulling him forward.

“Go,” Wade repeated, nodding toward the door. “I’ll make sure this asshole doesn’t get back up.”

Logan nodded, giving Wade a look of gratitude. Without another glance at Stryker, he turned and strode down the hallway, his steps quickening as he neared the door. He pushed it open, his every sense alert, his every instinct focused on one thing: finding her, getting her out, and putting an end to this nightmare.

As he moved deeper into the facility, the walls seemed to close in around him, the smell of metal and cold concrete sharp in the air. But he didn’t stop. He could feel her, close now, her heartbeat faint but steady, guiding him through the darkness.

He reached the final door and Logan knew one thing for certain: he wouldn’t leave this island without her.

Logan pushed open the door and slipped inside, his movements fluid and silent. The room was dim, lit by a single harsh light overhead, casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor. There, tied to a chair in the center of the room, was her—face bruised, her wrists bound, her gaze defiant despite the fear lingering in her eyes.

Victor stood beside her, one hand gripping her shoulder, his claws extended just enough to graze her skin. He was watching her with a twisted, mocking smile, completely oblivious to Logan’s presence.

Logan’s chest heaved, the sight of her—wounded, terrified, but still holding her ground—igniting something fierce and uncontrollable inside him.

Victor chuckled, still oblivious, his voice dripping with disdain. “You thought you could get away, didn’t you? Thought someone was gonna save you?” He leaned in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “I hope he gets here in time, sweetheart.”

Logan took a single, slow step forward, his voice a low, menacing growl that filled the room. “Let her go.”

Victor froze, his body going tense before he slowly turned to face Logan. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by that familiar, twisted grin. “There you are, little brother. Took you long enough.”

Logan’s claws slid out with a grinding schlikt, the sound sharp in the stillness. “You wanted me here. Well, here I am.”

Victor laughed, a cold, mocking sound. “You know, you’re just proving my point, Logan. She’s made you weak. Look at you, risking everything for this pathetic little journalist.”

Logan’s gaze flickered to her for a moment, her eyes meeting his, wide and filled with relief. He felt the fury simmering inside him sharpen, and solidify. “Call it whatever you want. I’m done talking.”

Victor’s smirk faded, replaced with a cold, calculating look. “Oh, little brother,” he said, releasing her and stepping forward, flexing his own claws. “But let’s be honest—you’re not gonna win this fight.”

For a split second, something flickered in Victor’s expression, something almost… conflicted. It was as if he was wrestling with a thought, a shadow of doubt crossing his face before his jaw tightened, and the hardness returned to his eyes.

Victor glanced back at her, and for a moment, Logan thought he might waver, might change his mind. But then Victor’s face twisted into a sneer, and he shook his head. “No,” he muttered. “I don’t leave loose ends. Not for anyone.”

With that, he lunged.

They clashed in a blur of movement, claws flashing, each strike more vicious than the last. Logan’s world narrowed to the raw, brutal fight in front of him, the air filled with the sound of claws slicing through flesh, the impact of fists and bodies against concrete. Victor fought with a brutal edge, his strikes fueled by years of resentment, rivalry, of a twisted sense of superiority.

Logan had something Victor didn’t—a reason to fight beyond pride. He had someone to protect, someone whose life mattered more than his own. That gave him strength, an unbreakable resolve that kept him going even when the pain threatened to pull him under.

At some point during the fight, he caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. She was watching, her gaze locked on him, her lips parted in a silent plea. It was all he needed.

With a roar, Logan tackled Victor to the ground, pinning him with one knee against his chest, his claws poised at Victor’s throat. “You’re done,” Logan growled, his voice filled with a quiet, deadly finality. “You’re done trying to control my life.”

Victor sneered up at him, defiant even in defeat. “You really think this changes anything? Stryker will come for her. And when he does, you won’t be there to protect her.”

Logan pressed his claws just a little closer, his voice a low, furious whisper. “Then he’ll get the same welcome you did.”

Victor’s eyes flashed with fear or the faintest glimmer of respect—but before he could respond, Logan brought his fist down, slamming Victor’s head against the concrete. Victor’s body went slack, unconscious, and Logan wasted no time turning back to her.

She was still in the chair, her hands bound, her face pale but determined. He crossed the room in two quick strides, his hands already working on the ropes around her wrists.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice low, almost gentle.

She nodded, her gaze steady as she looked up at him. “I am now.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, relief flooding through him. He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Just then, footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by a familiar voice. Wade slipped into the room, grinning as he wiped blood from his knuckles. “Stryker’s not gonna be a problem. Let’s just say he and I had a little… conversation.”

Logan nodded, his hand slipping into hers as he helped her to her feet. “Good. Then let’s get off this damn island.”

They moved quickly, with Wade leading the way back through the facility, every step taking them further from the nightmare they’d escaped. As they reached the edge of the island, the boat waiting for them on the shore, Logan held her close, his hand never leaving hers.

This time, he promised himself, he’d keep her safe—for good.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden light across the little cabin nestled at the edge of the forest. Birds chattered in the trees, and the steady murmur of a nearby creek filled the air with a peaceful hum. It was a quiet spot, secluded and off the grid, miles away from the life they’d left behind. And that was exactly how Logan liked it.

Inside the cabin, Logan was standing at the kitchen counter, brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to peel potatoes with a knife far too sharp for the job. His large hands weren’t exactly suited to delicate work, and he muttered under his breath as the potato slipped from his grip for the third time.

She leaned against the doorway, watching him with a soft smile tugging at her lips. It had been months since they’d escaped Stryker’s grasp, since that night on the island, and she still wasn’t used to seeing Logan like this—shirt sleeves rolled up, hair slightly damp from a shower, wrestling with a kitchen task like he was facing down an enemy.

“Need some help, chef?” she teased, crossing the room and taking the knife from him before he could protest.

He grunted, folding his arms and pretending to look annoyed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “You think you can do better?” he asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes, deftly peeling the potato with a few smooth strokes. “I’m just saying, I’m trying to avoid a trip to the hospital. With the way you were holding that knife, I’d have to stitch you up by dinnertime.”

He let out a low chuckle, watching her with a look that was almost… awestruck. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe she was here, in this cabin they’d built together, her laughter filling the air, her hands moving with easy familiarity in their shared kitchen.

She finished peeling the potato and handed it to him with a little flourish, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smile. “There. Now maybe I’ll let you handle the boiling part. Think you can manage that?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Keep talkin’, and I might just make you do all the work tonight.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. 

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Fine. I’ll let you cook… if you can keep that smart mouth of yours quiet for five minutes.”

She laughed, the sound filling the cabin, and Logan felt something settle in his chest, a quiet contentment he hadn’t known he could feel. She nudged him with her elbow and turned back to the counter, slicing the potatoes with practiced ease, her hair falling softly over her shoulder.

Logan watched her, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He’d never thought he could have this—a life so normal, so simple, filled with nothing but quiet, ordinary moments. It was strange, the way he felt more himself here, peeling potatoes and teasing her over burnt toast, than he ever had in all the years he’d spent fighting, running, surviving.

He reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. She looked up, surprised by the softness in his gaze.

“What?”

He shook his head, his thumb lingering on her cheek for a moment longer than necessary. “Nothing. Just… I’m glad you’re here.” His voice was low, almost rough, like he wasn’t used to saying things like this out loud.

Her face softened, her hand coming up to rest over his, her fingers warm and gentle. “Me too,” she said quietly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

They stood there for a moment, her hand resting on his, the world around them fading into a warm, comfortable silence. Then, with a little smirk, she nudged his hand away and turned back to the potatoes.

“Now,” she said, a glint of mischief in her eyes, “unless you’re planning on staring at me all evening, maybe you could make yourself useful and grab the salt.”

Logan huffed, grumbling under his breath, but he moved to grab the salt shaker from the cupboard, fighting the smile that kept creeping onto his face. He handed it to her, and she gave him a playful wink, her fingers brushing his as she took it.

They worked side by side in the kitchen, moving around each other with a practiced ease, like they’d been doing this for years. Now and then, their hands would brush, or she’d catch him watching her out of the corner of his eye, and he’d look away, a faint flush coloring his cheeks.

Later, as they sat down at the little table by the window, the last light of the sunset spilling across the room, she reached across the table and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. Logan looked down at their joined hands, feeling that familiar warmth spread through his chest, a quiet happiness he still wasn’t used to.

She caught his eye, smiling softly, a playful spark in her gaze. “Logan… I love you, but you’ve gotta stop staring at me like that. You’re making me blush.”

Logan shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles as if memorizing the feel of her hand in his. “Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice rough, almost hesitant. “I keep thinking… this is all a dream. Like I’m gonna wake up, and you’ll be gone, and I’ll be right back where I started.”

His gaze drifted around the room, taking in the little touches she’d added—a vase of wildflowers on the windowsill, her favorite books stacked messily on the coffee table, a soft throw blanket draped over the back of the couch. The cabin felt like a home now, filled with reminders of her presence, grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

She squeezed his hand, her fingers steady and warm. “Logan,” she whispered, her voice gentle but firm. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry about that.”

He looked back at her, his expression softening as he let her words sink in. “You promise?”

She smiled, a warmth in her eyes that made his heart feel like it might break, just from the sheer vulnerability of it all. “I promise,” she said, lifting their joined hands to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”

A quiet laugh escaped him, and he felt some of the tension he’d been holding finally release. “Good,” he said, his voice thick, barely more than a whisper. “Because I don’t think I’d know what to do without you now.”

She tilted her head, studying him with that soft, patient look that always seemed to cut right through his defenses. “You don’t have to worry, Logan.”

He didn’t respond right away, just nodded, letting her words settle over him like a blanket, warm and reassuring. It was such a simple promise, but it held a weight he hadn’t known he needed. She was here, with him, and for the first time, he actually believed she would be—today, tomorrow, as long as he could hold onto her.

After a long moment, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a slow smile breaking across his face. “All right, then,” he said, voice low and steady. “Guess I’d better get used to it.”

She grinned, leaning over the table to press a quick kiss to his lips, her laughter filling the room like sunlight. “Guess you’d better,” she teased, brushing a hand through his hair as she settled back in her chair.

Bonus Scene

Inside, the cabin was cozy and warm, the smell of coffee lingering in the air. Logan sat at the small kitchen table, a newspaper spread out in front of him, though he wasn’t reading it. His eyes kept drifting over to her, watching as she moved around the kitchen, humming softly to herself. She was cooking breakfast—eggs sizzling in the pan, a pot of tea steeping on the counter. It was a simple morning, ordinary in every way, and that was what made it so perfect.

Logan leaned back, a rare, soft smile tugging at his lips. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt at peace.

Then, a loud, obnoxious honk shattered the quiet, followed by the crunch of tires on gravel.

Logan’s eyes narrowed, and she raised an eyebrow, sharing a knowing look with him. Only one person would make that kind of entrance in the middle of nowhere.

“Great,” Logan muttered, pushing himself up from the table. “Just when things were getting quiet.”

He opened the cabin door, stepping outside just as a beat-up old pickup truck pulled up, kicking up a cloud of dust. Wade grinned from the driver’s seat, his sunglasses crooked, his arm slung casually out the window. He looked as out of place in the peaceful setting as a wolf in a field of lambs.

“Logan!” Wade called, climbing out of the truck and stretching his arms overhead like he’d just driven across the country. “Nice little place you got here. Very… rustic.” He looked around, taking in the trees and the clear blue sky. “I see you’ve gone full mountain man.”

Logan folded his arms, fighting the urge to smile. “What are you doing here, Wade?”

Wade shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What, a guy can’t visit his favorite grumpy Canadian in the middle of nowhere? I was in the neighborhood.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “The nearest town is fifty miles away.”

Wade shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, well, I heard there was good coffee around here. And maybe I missed the two of you. But don’t go getting all sentimental on me. It’s just a temporary lapse.”

She appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dishtowel and smiling despite herself. “Hi, Wade. You hungry?”

Wade’s face lit up, his gaze flicking from her to the warm, inviting cabin. “I knew I liked you for a reason,” he said, grinning. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs and toast,” she said, gesturing for him to come inside. “Logan’s been chopping enough firewood to heat the whole forest, so I think we’ll be warm enough.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Wade said as he stepped inside, glancing around the cozy cabin with a touch of surprise. “This guy’s a softie at heart. First, it’s firewood and breakfast in bed. Next thing you know, he’s knitting sweaters and taking up bird-watching.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite to it. He shut the door behind them, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall, watching Wade settle in as if he belonged there. Despite the sarcasm and theatrics, Logan could see it in Wade’s eyes—the genuine relief that they were all still standing, that the worst was behind them.

“So,” Wade said, taking a seat at the table and eyeing the spread of food appreciatively. “How’s life in the woods treating you two? Getting used to all this fresh air?”

She chuckled, pouring coffee into a mug and setting it in front of him. “It’s… peaceful,” she said, glancing at Logan with a soft smile. “Exactly what we needed.”

Wade’s expression softened for a moment, his usual sarcasm slipping away. “Yeah, I bet. You two deserve it. God knows you’ve been through enough.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence as they sat around the table, eating breakfast and enjoying the warmth of the cabin. Wade filled them in on the latest gossip from town, spinning tales of bar fights and questionable characters that made her laugh, and even Logan couldn’t hide a smirk or two. It was like a glimpse of the world they’d left behind but without any of the darkness or danger that had once haunted them.

Finally, as they finished eating, Wade leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “Well, this was nice. A little slice of domestic bliss.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Logan snorted, his tone dry. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t,” Wade said, but there was a glint of something softer in his eyes as he looked between them. “I’ll let you two lovebirds get back to your wilderness honeymoon.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes as she gathered the plates. “Thanks for stopping by, Wade. Really.”

He got up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. “Anytime. Someone’s gotta check in on you two, make sure you’re not turning into total recluses.” He paused, looking at Logan with a hint of something unspoken. “Take care of each other, yeah?”

Logan gave a curt nod, but his expression softened, and he clasped Wade’s shoulder, a rare show of gratitude. “You know we will.”

Wade grinned, pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes. “Good. And hey, don’t be strangers. You know where to find me.”

With one last nod, Wade stepped out of the cabin, heading back to his truck. They watched as he climbed inside, giving a quick wave before driving off, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

As the truck disappeared down the dirt road, she turned to Logan, slipping her hand into his. They stood together in the doorway, watching the dust settle, feeling the quiet of the woods close in around them once more.

Logan looked down at her, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand. “Guess we’re really out here now,” he murmured, a hint of wonder in his voice.

She smiled, leaning into him, her gaze soft. “Yeah. Just us.”

[violetvines]

wedding bells are ringing 🔔

summary: it's the day of libby and nash's wedding. libby is getting ready in her room, feeling nervous about walking down the aisle, pre-wedding jitters and all. she hears a knock at her door, and the last person she's expecting is standing on the other side... alisa ortega.

characters: libby grambs, alisa ortega, nash hawthorne

a/n: my first fic! I hope I represented them nicely <3

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

One. Two. Three. Four...

Libby counted her breaths in her head, steadying their rhythm, even if she couldn't seem to steady her erratic heart.

Today was the day. The kind of day she had carelessly dreamt about when she had been a girl. The kind of day she hadn't dared to even think about in recent years, because she didn't believe it would ever happen. She didn't believe this day would ever come.

She was getting married today. She was having a wedding.

It was funny, really, because just the night earlier, she had been laying in bed with Nash, and they had talked about the surreality of the situation. Or, as Nash would put it, a situation that was surreal to her, but very real and very true to him.

"What if it's not everything you dreamed it would be?" She had blurted that out almost immediately after Nash had rebuked her "surreal" statement.

He had proceeded to stare at her in the darkness, fingers still stroking her dark blue hair. "Libs..." he began, "no dream of mine is worth anythin' if you ain't in it."

"You are everything I could ever dream of."

"But-"

"Shhh," he shushed her, "I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that you're afraid because tomorrow, your last name becomes Hawthorne. You're going to say that you're worried you won't be able to live up to that name, and that you'll mess up and somehow cause the whole world to come crashing down."

"But you need to understand this. Tomorrow, I will no longer be just a man – I will be your husband, your sworn protector. And I will be there with you every step of the way to hold your hand. You will not mess up, and the world will not come crashing down, because I will be there. And if you're still doubting it, still thinking that something will go wrong, I will shield you from all their hurtful words and condescending stares."

Libby knew that when Nash pronounced his g's, he was being serious.

"You always think that you make a mess everywhere you go, but I need you to know that you turned my life from a mess to a blessing."

He had then kissed her forehead and she'd remained silent, tears forming in her eyes.

Libby sighed at the memory. Nash had such a way with his words. He always knew what she needed to hear, how to comfort her and be there for her.

She had fallen asleep shortly after that. Still, no amount of talking could change the fact that it was real and it was happening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

"That must be Avery," she thought. Her sister had gone off to meet with the other three Hawthorne brothers, presumably in Nash's room. She hadn't seen him since morning and he wasn't allowed to see her in her dress until the altar. Avery was probably back now, so she was ready to bombard her with questions... if she could get her nerves to calm down.

Libby looked in the long mirror, smoothing down the front of her wedding gown. It was black, matching the glossy dark blue and black colour on her nails. She liked it. The makeup artist had done a great job too, and she felt like a queen. (As she should.)

"Come in!" she called, while opening the door.

The figure outside her door made her freeze. It was Alisa Ortega, better known as her sister's lawyer or her soon-to-be husband's ex-girlfriend.

She and Alisa hadn't always been on good terms, and honestly, she could understand it. Who would want to be friends with their ex's new significant other?

"Nash Hawthorne has never loved anything he didn't leave."

Alisa's words from the past echoed in her ears. Libby curled her fingers into fists. She didn't have time for backhanded remarks or snide comments right now. She needed to calm down because soon, it would be time to walk down the aisle.

Alisa was dressed formally, as if she had just finished a meeting at the law firm. She had an eyebrow raised. Great. "Are you going to invite me in or...?"

Libby stepped aside to let her in, not saying anything just yet. She took another deep breath.

"Look, Alisa, if you're here to talk to me about keeping up appearances later, I got it. I've been going through my vows everyday for the past week - I won't forget them. I've been practising my walk down the aisle with these killer shoes too - I won't fall. Don't you worry, I won't embarrass anyone. Not Avery, not the Hawthornes, not the family's reputation."

Libby hadn't realised that she was panting heavily.

"Oh, and also, please don't make a comment on my unconventional wedding dress. I know you don't approve, but here I am anyway." She spread her arms, displaying herself.

Alisa looked at her carefully. What she said next surprised Libby, and she almost pinched herself awake.

"You look beautiful, Libby."

"Wait... what?"

Alisa sighed. "I said that you look beautiful." She said it so matter-of-factly, like Alisa Ortega was someone who usually dished out compliments like that.

This wasn't the Alisa that Libby knew.

"You can get to it, you know. You can tell me what you came here for."

At that, Alisa gestured for Libby to have a seat.

"I came here to give you something," she began, but paused as Libby snorted.

"By something, do you mean... an NDA? After I marry Nash, I'm practically Hawthorne and I'll know all their secrets." She said, lightheartedly.

How was she joking around with Alisa minutes before her wedding? Then again, it was possible. Alisa didn't like to joke.

Libby waited for a cutting remark, but none came. Alisa only grimaced. Grimaced? Since when did Alisa Ortega grimace?

Why was Alisa acting so weird today? As far as Libby knew, Alisa was over Nash... unless... she wasn't, so that's why she was acting this way. She habitually brought her fingers to her mouth. When she was nervous, she bit her nails.

She didn't manage to do so, because Alisa gently set her hands down. "Hey... we don't want you ruining your nails before the wedding."

"Here, take this." Alisa reached into her pocket and procured a small box, one that could fit in the palm of her hand. Noticing Libby's curiosity, she explained.

"It's a small music box. I thrifted it from somewhere, and I thought you'd like it. The designs at the sides of it are very... gothic." That last word sounded like it troubled her to say it.

Libby laughed with disbelief. "Alisa... you mean to say that you got me a wedding gift?" Her giggling died down, as she was suddenly overcome by an unexplainable feeling. Gratitude? Shock? Wonder? All three?

Alisa shrugged. "It would be rude to attend the wedding without bringing a gift." At that, Libby's mouth fell open. She hadn't thought that Alisa would even set aside time to attend her wedding.

Alisa didn't let her deal with the shock for more than three seconds. "Go ahead and open it."

She did. Her fingers trembled as she wound up the crank.

The first notes played and she immediately noticed that it wasn't just any music. It was wedding music.

"Here Comes The Bride" was playing and the tinkling notes filled the room. As Libby watched, the room shined with a sort of ethereal glow. The music faded, and she turned to watch as Alisa stared at her wistfully.

She could have sworn there was a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Thank– thank you." Libby stuttered, because what else could she say? None of this had been expected.

She now expected Alisa to leave but that didn't happen either. "I also wanted to say that I'm happy for you. Truly."

"Everything you said just now made me realise that I haven't been the best person to you, and for that," she took a deep breath, "I'm sorry."

Here was Alisa Ortega opening up. Here was Alisa Ortega apologising to her. Alisa Ortega was apologising to Libby Grambs.

"I wish you and Nash a happy marriage." Libby sat there in silence, still processing her words.

Alisa looked at her wristwatch and caught herself then. "I should be going now. Before things get out of hand down there."

She was at the door when she turned around and said, "you don't have to forgive me. Having you around wasn't the worst, you know? You made life at Hawthorne House happier – I can see it in their faces. When Nash talks about you, he has a sparkle in his eyes, something that was lost long ago. Xander loves your baked goods and I see him popping his head in the kitchen every evening, with hopes that you're there, baking something. Even Grayson and Jameson love having you here."

"You're not an embarrassment, Libby Grambs. You are everything they never knew they needed."

"You're a wonderful sister. And I'm sure you will also make a wonderful wife."

With that, Alisa stepped out of the room, not leaving space for Libby to reply. She didn't need to turn around to know that at that second, Libby had mumbled a million thank-you's, feeling touched at what had just passed between them, diamonds glistening in her eyes.

"You're not half as bad either, Alisa Ortega." She whispered to the empty room, eyes still on the space that Alisa had vacated.

And somehow, she didn't feel nervous anymore.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

"You may now kiss the bride." The priest announced.

Before Nash could pick her up in his arms and plant a kiss on her lips, she scanned the crowd one final time.

There, in the middle of all the chaos, sat Alisa Ortega.

Libby grinned at her, not expecting anything but a small smile back.

She was surprised again, when she was met with the sight of Alisa grinning back. It was the first time she had seen a genuine, happy smile on Alisa Ortega's face.

She hoped it wouldn't be the last.

lace divider by @kodaswrld

[blue-princess-blog]

Half an hour.

Jason comes home from work in half an hour. And you couldn't be more excited. Since running away to the mortal world and you having a baby Jason's been working his new mortal job obsessively.

He works at the grocery store down the street. Close enough to run home if anything were to happen to you or your little baby boy, but far enough away for you to miss him like crazy.

A homemade blueberry pie fresh out the oven cooling off on the table, the apartment was clean minus a few baby toys scattered, and dancing fruit was playing on the big TV as your baby boy sat in his walker bouncing along with some strawberries.

You don't know why your nervous as you look at the clock on your stove. Jason's been living with you for a little over 9 months. Having finally ran away from camp Jupiter when you were 8 months and have been there with you ever since.

Your hands smooth over the tight light blue sundress you know Jason just adores on you. You haven't worn it since you've gotten pregnant. Hell your sure it was the reason you were pregnant in the first place.

It does't fit like it used to. Your boobs still shockingly huge from the pregnancy. Went from a C cup to a double D. Your stomach still stretched and saggy. Your hand rests on your stomach for a little bit.

You didn't find shame nor disgust in it. Just pure joy and... pride. That this was the outcome of having given human life just 8 months ago. You created a human baby boy. Your eyes gaze back at your son.

He's still bouncing in his walker. His blonde hair finally started to grow out and his eyes a summer sky blue. Just like his fathers.

The door opens causing you to jolt not having time to react before Jason opens the door. Still in his work uniform and holding his lunchbox in his hands.

"You look really pretty." Jason murmured with a adoring smile, but there was a hint of a suggestive smirk. Jason looked over at your baby real quick before looking back at you.

You manage a smile a blush forming on your cheeks. Oh goodness you've been together for two years, live together, and have a baby yet somehow you still have a crush on him.

Jason sets his lunchbox on the floor not caring to put it away. More focused on stepping closer to admire you in that sundress he loves. His hands finds your waist and he presses a welcoming kiss to your lips.

"So so pretty." Jason mumbled moving your hips slowly side to side making you shimmy. You giggle feeling ever so cherished and flustered. You didn't even know what to say or do other than blush like an idiot.

Jason gently pulled a strand of your hair behind your ears. "Prettiest mama ever." Jason whispered lovingly over your lips before kissing you softly again.

There was a sharp sequel from your son in the other room. Having noticed his dad has come home he began to get antsy. Jason quickly pecked your lips again before turning back at the boy.

"Hey little man. Been good for mama?" Jason bent down picking up his little boy in his arms. "You better of." Jason gently pinches his cheek. "Because look how pretty mama is."

"You've said that almost five times already." You state although you have no distaste for him saying it. You like compliments. Especially from your man.

"And each one as serious as the first." Jason reminded you walking closer with your baby on his hip. "C'mon little man tell mama how pretty she is." Jason mumbled against your baby's cheek and he shrieked again with a smile.

Jason kissed his cheek and then leaned down to you. "Totally taking that dress off for you later by the way." Jason whispered to you and playfully bit your now burning cheek. A small squeak leaving your lips as he walked away to the table where the pie was.

[adozentothedawn]

I am finished. It is done. I have finished my next embroidery project. Behold....

A(s)loth

Based on the wonderful work of @solas-backpack-mug, thank you for giving me permission and for always having lovely comments on my progression!

This took me almost exactly two months to make. It was a lot of fun and I did learn a lot. I probably would do some things differently if I did it again, but I am proud of how it turned out, i think it looks great.

[asktheritobowyer]

Bad timing or not, one shouldn't loiter if that wasn't the intention. Nonetheless I do thank you for your patronage, but don't perceive yourself as not being able to get better supplies as Link simply because he happens to be well acquainted and liked by the Rito because of what he's done for us.

I'm not blind and ignorant to one's pain Revali. Make no mistake, I know what you went through. I know what all the Champions went through. I'm sure It's not easy to lose your life, just like how I'm sure it's not easy to come back and discover those that you know either died of old age, or simply lost their lives a century ago. Some of you were more fortune than others, in the other Champion's case, they still had their still their relatives or some other form family to come back to. While you and Link didn't.

Failure is something one learns from, it's never the end. No matter how painful it is, no matter how impossible it may seem. Even if the entire world hates you, and blames you for everything that happened. Even if the world scorns you, and constantly reminds you of your failures. It's never to late to pick yourself up from that impossible situation, and prove to people that can you still make a difference. This...is something Link had to learn the hard way.

Revali, you always seem to compare yourself to Link, as if he's something that embodies perfection. Well I can tell you this, he isn't flawless. Far from it. He's caused everyone a lot of headaches, he's reckless, he always gets himself hurt, seems to really enjoy throwing his life away for others, no matter who they are, and has trouble grasping that his life is valued by others. I've scolded him more times than I can count, and Teba's really had his work cut out for him when dealing with him.

Link's just a young man, who lost his innocence earlier than anyone his age should of. Not only that, there is something you have over him. A little something called identity. Don't let his demeanour fool you, Link is...quite damaged Inside. Despite what happened to you, you still remained true to yourself, you are still you. Can you honestly say the same for him?

No one really knows the real Link, aside from maybe Teba, and the Sages. Every so often I see the person buried underneath the façade he puts on. But most of time I see someone who wishes to attune for something that was never his fault. And the real tragedy is most people can't even see that. They just see some invincible hero who'll solve all their problems. Link's status as a hero isn't a boon...it's a burden. One I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

Revali the next to time you see Link, I want you to really look into his eyes. Forget how our people feel him about. Forget how Hyrule looks at him. See past that mask he puts on. I want you to really look at him. If you can see past that façade, you'll understand why our people have been drawn to him, why Teba makes the effort to always ensure he's truly appreciated for who he is, and why Tulin will never leave his side when he's around.

Link is a danger to himself. He always puts others above himself. He probably values your life above his own. If you plan to isolate yourself in Vah Medoh, he will follow you there undoubtedly. No matter what you say to him. No matter how harsh your words my be. Heck you can probably even attack him. He'll stay by your side, willingly choose to freeze up there, and do everything he can to appease you, if it means that you'll be okay. Because that's just the type of person he his. He will never abandon someone in need.

I'll be frank. You're young. You still have a lot of growing up to do, and your behaviour isn't the best. I still think your bad influence. I've never been a fan of braggarts, it's a behaviour trait I'd rather not be picked up by my daughter. Nor am I pleased that the Rito who represented our people had a superiority complex, but...you don't need to change who you are as an individual. You are you, all Rito's take pride in who they are. You simply have to adapt. Don't compare your sense of self worth to Link's, all it does is breed unnecessary resentment. We've all already had our fill of that after the Calamity.

Some advice, if you find yourself having trouble fitting in, I'd recommend spending time with Link. Despite your claims of having no friends in this time. Link truly values you as one, and considers you one of his closest, despite the animosity you had towards him. From what I understand, he's the closest connection you have to the past. Both of you have things that the other lacks, and I believe both of you need each other to help mend the wounds still festering within you two. You may not see it now, but you will in time. You two have a lot in common...more than you realize.

Hello Harth, how do you feel about this whole buisiness with the hundred year old Rito Champion turning up in the present? Do you get along with him?

Why hello there. I suppose it's natural people would want hear my thoughts regarding this topic.

Revali suddenly popping up in the present day, honestly wasn't to surprising to me. Truth be told, so much crazy stuff has happened all around Hyrule the past couple of years, that it would have to take something truly bizarre, for people to be at a loss for words. We had Sheika tech all over Hyrule one moment, only for them to disappear, and then a bunch of Zonai ruins show up instead. After a while you kind of get used to these kinds of things.

As for my thoughts on Revali? He's...quite the ahem ahem personality.

We have interacted a bit, and while our interactions have been fairly amicable, he's honestly not someone I would want to be spending a lot of time around, or someone I'd want my daughter to be associating with to much either.

I always did wonder why the Rito's always spoke of his feats, but never him as a person. If the other champions were remembered for their talents and personality, why not him?

Teba used to speak very fondly of him, but then he suddenly stopped, almost like he discovered something he didn't want to. It speaks volumes, when Teba is adamant that Link become a role model for Tulin, rather than the supposed pride of our people.

I asked Link what the Rito Champion was like, after discovering he's the same hero from a century ago, but he claimed to not remember, which I knew was a bold faced lie. It's like Link was trying to intentionally hide something about him. Teba's not the only one with a keen eye. He may be good at masking his emotions, not so much unpleasant memories. One look at Link's eyes told me everything I needed to know.

I asked Kass about Revali to, and he told me that sometimes ignorance is the best thing for others. Meeting Revali in person, I can see what he meant. The very person the Rito's respected so highly, in truth didn't have the most appealing personality, and wasn't on best terms with the Hero of Hyrule, because he deemed himself as superior.

Revali is talented there's no doubt about that. His skills are the real deal, his arrows fly true, I can respect his capabilities as a Rito warrior. But humility is clearly not something he considers necessary. He always seems to seek validation, never sparing a second to display his superior skills to others, or opinions about how much better he is, and seems to enjoy belittling Link, which I absolutely will not tolerate.

While I'm not one to bring up the past, Link succeeded where he failed, and saved Rito Village, as well as ours lives twice over. He is in no position to claim superiority over him, nor can he dismiss Link's many contributions in aiding the Rito people. Link has spent many years helping us all out, never once asking for anything in return. Being the Rito Champion, doesn't mean I should just suddenly like him more, now that he's back, because he's of the same race as me. That kind of respect is earned, not given freely.

Revali does have a compassionate side, and his desire to protect Rito Village is genuine. He loves our people with all his heart. However that does not excuse his behaviour, nor his shameful treatment of Link.

Everyone within Rito Village highly respects Link for everything he's done for them, and I'm sure over time it'll be quite the reality check for Revali. To find whatever adoration he may have had in the past, isn't quite so prevalent here in the present, and continuing to belittle Link won't do his reputation any wonders.

Teba sees Link as his kid, and most certainly wouldn't hesitate to speak up for him, even to Revali. Tulin looks up to Link like an idolized older brother, and even considers him as such, not to mention Link in many ways helped nurture him into what he is today. I myself am also very fond of him, because of the positive effect he's had on my family, and Rito Village as a whole. I'm sure many others within the village share similar sentiments.

In any case, I can talk to Revali just fine, but if he expects me to always take his side, and prefer him over others because he's the Rito Champion, he'll find this Bowyer isn't quite so tolerant.

[goose-books]

The Ghost of Christmas Past shows up and you’re like, “Ohhhhh for fuck’s sake,” but you’re in your childhood bedroom so it’s kind of on you. The ghost seems offended. She crosses her arms. She looks like you used to, with the pigtails.

“No way,” you say. “Don’t start.”

“I am the—”

“The Ghost of Christmas Past, I know, I know.” Because she looks like you, and it’s Christmas Eve, so what else. Your parents used to read you the story every year. Even when you were old enough to read on your own, it was better in your dad’s voice.

“You came home for your parents,” the ghost says, solemn. “It’s time to tell them.”

“No, like, ‘when you’re ready’?”

“You are ready,” she says, “or you wouldn’t have come back.”

Which is so stupid, because you weren’t on the moon, you were at college, and it’s only been two months of shots, you don’t even have a mustache. “Fucking leave me alone,” you say, so she does the ghost thing and takes you to a ten-years-ago Christmas. The living room. Your parents. Your fledgling self on the carpet with your stocking, the one you can’t look at anymore because when you were a baby your parents patiently hand-stitched the fucking name.

“Maybe they’ll make you a new one,” says the ghost.

“You don’t know that.” Bullshit ghost powers.

“You were happier back then. When they knew you.”

“Everyone was happier back then. It was, like, 2008.”

“There was a recession,” says the ghost.

“Shut up! Shut up!” You turn over in bed. For a second you expect to roll onto child-self-you curled up next to you. Probably crush the life out of her. You got good at that. It’s her bed, her room, pink covers, cat posters.

“This is so stupid, this Dickens thing,” you say. “I’m not even Christian anymore.”

“Tell your parents that second,” the ghost suggests.

“Oh my fucking God I’m not telling them anything can’t you go bother Jeff Bezos.”

“I’m just doing my job,” says the ghost, and vanishes.

#

The Ghost of Christmas Present has an acne problem. As soon as you open your eyes you say, “Oh my God,” and they say, “Hi,” and you say, “You better not be the fucking Ghost of Christmas Present,” and the Ghost of Christmas Present says, “I am.”

Which you knew.

“Why me?” you say, pink comforter bunched around your waist. “I didn’t do anything. Scrooge was mean to orphans.”

The Ghost of Christmas Present shrugs. “It’s the job.”

“Are you gonna show me my parents now?”

That makes them look kind of embarrassed.

“Well, don’t,” you say. If your parents are talking in the other room, huddled up conferencing with the lights off, you can’t hear it over the heater buzz. But you can guess what they’re saying: you went to school with a shitty pixie cut and worse eyeliner, and you came back with a real haircut and a permanent frown and a bunch of new friends you play sentence Twister to avoid pronouning. “I know they’re nice people, I got it. I’m just not ready.”

“It’s just—you’re kind of waiting for them to ask?” says the Ghost of Christmas Present. They scratch their face, where they have spectral sideburns coming in. “Your dad thinks you have a head cold. ‘Cause of your voice. But your mom’s starting to get it.”

You pull the covers over your head. “Cool, awesome, didn’t ask.”

“She isn’t going to ask,” the ghost says. “She wants you to tell her.”

You stick your middle finger out from underneath the covers. When you check, the room is empty again.

#

The Ghost of Christmas Future doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. You look back. You probably have bedhead. You fixed your daytime wardrobe but your pajamas are still lacy and purple.

“How come you’re a man?” you say.

He says, “I think you know.”

“Fucking—go away.”

“I have something to show you first.”

“Are we going to the goddamn graveyard?”

He doesn’t say anything but then you’re in the goddamn graveyard. Together. Looking at your headstone. The dates are close enough together to make you kind of sick.

“They went with the full name,” you say.

The ghost nods.

“Not even the nickname. My nice gender neutral nickname.”

The ghost shrugs. You kind of want to throw something at him but you’re just looking at it now. Chiseled in marble. Immovable. What’s that thing bigots on the internet say, about someone digging up your jawbone two hundred years from now? You always wanted to think you wouldn’t care.

The Ghost of Christmas Future’s pretty quiet. This is the part where Scrooge goes full breakdown. Tears, begging, promises.

“I’m not gonna cry on you,” you say.

“Okay.”

So neutral. “Man, what do you want me to say?”

“Nothing,” says the ghost. “I think you’re there.”

You can’t stop looking at the headstone. “God fucking damnit shit. You promise they’ll be cool?”

“Nothing’s promised,” the ghost says. He gestures at the graveyard. “Except for this.”

“Awesome.” Cryptic cliche philosophical ghost bullshit. Yada yada. Death and taxes. Not with that name on your headstone, though. Not with that name on your tax forms, either.

You turn to tell him that and then you’re blinking in bed. There’s still one glow-in-the-dark star stuck to your ceiling where the glue never wore out. You put those up like ten years ago. Maybe longer. The light in the room says it’s morning. You swing your lacy-pajama legs over the side of the bed and go to ruin Christmas.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three.

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.

Main Masterlist

next.

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User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties

User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though

→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me

User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots

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22•05•22

User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull

User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'

User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing

User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred

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16•06•22

fallontonight just posted

liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others

fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘

4,477 comments

YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨

User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what

User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts

→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments

→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch

→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other

User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does

→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others

YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22

4,990 comments

User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon

→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest

→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to being right a romance novel at this time

→ User 6 confirmation??!?!

→ User 7 we’re children of divorce

→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over

landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞

→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare

→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart

→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here

kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends

→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x

→ User 11 i love their friendship

→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever

User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?

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04•09•22

User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???

→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him

User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that

YourUserName posted a new story

danielricciardo posted a new story

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danielricciardo just posted

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and others

danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas

5,509 comments

User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly

User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better

mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪

User 3 letting mclaren and lando down

→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something

→ User 5 he’s way too young for her

→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho

(comments have been disabled for this post)

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19•10•22

YourUserName just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, bloomsburypublishing and others

YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet

kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍

→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home

→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned

landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing

→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in

→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40

→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy

User 7 happy birthday to the best author

User 8 happy birthday queen

carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐

liked by YourUserName

danielricciardo happy birthday x

User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with

→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo

lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕

liked by YourUserName

mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳

liked by YourUserName

Request are open!

Baby Fever Angst Series

[ghostfacd]

IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him

AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!

tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?

tagged @/ynuser

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ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously

user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god

user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways

user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better

➥ user4 well someone had to say it..

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You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.

It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.

The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.

Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.

You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.

Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters

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user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her

user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS

user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹

tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth

rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊

user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol

➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”

➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8

tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️

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user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single

user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??

user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵

ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts

user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg

ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!

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tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too

➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED

user14 literal unbothered icon i love her

user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”

iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY

lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻

➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate

user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot

tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso

tagged @/ynuser

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ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth

user18 ok who’s cutting onions

user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS

➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐

user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys

user22 parentssss

rachelzegler my favorites

ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS

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tomblyth yn, i love you but

➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence

user24 the second pic thank u yn

joshandresrivera on top of u maybe

➥ user25 IM DYING OML

user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever

[tellafairy]

thoughts on shifting + manifesting with ease. (as someone who's shifted many times, alongside manifesting)

coming back to this side of tumblr after spending years away from it has made me realized how many of you are truly the problem, it might sound kinda harsh but really. so many of you ask the same questions over and over again.. "but HOW do i do it?" "how do i shift" "how do i manifest" JUST DO IT. stop looking for signs, stop looking for methods or "cheat codes". just do it man.

your mind is so powerful and it actually kinda irritates me how many of you doubt it, just because it "seems to easy". you don't understand how you've been manipulated by society to not see your power. how have you been on loa social media, shifting social media, for soooo long — yet still don't see it?? let me tell you..

the moment i got off social media, the moment i took time to erase everything in my head and stop overthinking everything, was the moment everything came to me. i already had it, i just needed to stop telling myself i didn't.

it took me barely any time to get used to convincing myself i had everything i wanted, i shifted to my desired realities, and everything worked out in my favour. AFFIRMING IS ALL YOU NEED. I AM YELLING AT YOU. JUST AFFIRM.

really, please, affirm. the routine is so simple.

1. any bad thought is instantly turned positive.

ex: "i really want her waist"

to

"am i stupid ... i have her waist.. tbh mine even looks a little better.. am i crazy?? like actually? this must be a glitch or something cause my waist is practically identical to hers.. i literally love my waist"

exaggerate, say what you need to say to erase the negativity.

2. it's yours, so act like it..

ex: talk about ur DR normally. it's your reality, not a fantasy land you made up in a dream. ITS REAL. it's a reality. for example, i'd watch videos of my s/o in this reality, and speak about our lives in my dr. "i can't wait to see __ tonight... god i love __, it's so nice hanging out with them everyday.. wow they look so pretty in this video — i'm so lucky their mine". it's natural, they're yours aren't they? exactly, so act like it.. this is used the exact same way when manifesting..

you see someone with something you want? thinking of something you wanna do? something you wanna be? ... it's urs... so can you act like it?? like whyre u feeling sad someone else got a job promotion 😹😹 you literally got a better one ...

3. that's literally it

you don't need a fancy method (although it can give u some peace of mind.. let's be real, a lot of methods set y'all back and make you overwhelmed, blocking ur beliefs and making everything seem harder). you literally just need to live. tell yourself it's done, over and over again. nothing matters. it's done, it's yours, you have it, you're happy and fulfilled. other peoples sucess should really mean nothing to you negatively. it shouldn't make you stressed, shouldn't make you feel behind.. why would it when you have everything, you can do everything, go anywhere, and you can be anything.

it'll seem like manifesting blogs and shifting blogs just repeat the same things.. which is true, they do, because i'm telling you there's nothing more to it than what you've already read. it is that easy. all it takes is your mind. decide, and tell yourself.

as i said before, it took me barely anytime to switch my mindset once i actually started focusing on myself, my journey and not every body else's results. repeating stuff to yourself WORKS. repeating is literally ALL i did. choose what i want, told myself it's mine in any way i could describe it. and there, it's mine. ive shifted to many different realities, along side gaining a better life in this one after years of convincing myself there was nothing for me. if i can break out of the cycle, trust me you can too. i cannot describe how desperate i was at the beginning, how long i took in false info and wasted time on methods all while doubting every single thing.

so why don't you believe it? you'll sit there and tell yourself over and over again that you're ugly, or broke, or friendless... but you won't tell urself that you've shifted? that you have your dream body...? girl okay i guess....

once you realize nothing besides your mind truly matters, is when you'll be free with yourself. circumstances don't matter, past feelings don't matter, doubts don't matter, your mind is all you need.

yes this is just loa explained longer, that's the point of the post because some of u still can't get it in ur heads

[sillygoosealert]

Weird thought, but imagine being Sukuna's favorite person/concubine once but someday he brings someone home or replace you, so then you die(obviously, your human) so then sukuna kinda felt heartbroken.

Now let's travel back to current timeline where sukuna is in yuji's body, Gojo decided to let his students meet his fiancee only for sukuna to be shocked cause it's reader reincarnated.

Once more to see you

Not a weird thought at all, silly ❤️

Sukuna x AFAB reader (for like a paragraph or two) Satoru Gojo x reader

pregnant! Reader, stress, suicidal thoughts, thoughts of self-mutilation, body issues, big BIG warning for pregnancy and dying and so many other things just be cautious, please. Angst NO COMFORT ‼️, uhh unless you take the whole lobotomy route as comfort then yeah happy ending or wtv

Loud moans and barbaric grunts echo through the castle- originating from Sukuna’s chamber

All you can do is sit outside the door and listen as you wait to see him

The newest concubine is with him as of now

She looked similar to you- but much thinner, almost how you looked before

Her face emits a sense of pure life and hope, a rare find

Your bulging stomach is more than noticeable, as you are now 4 months pregnant

Thinking of having a baby with him is a terrifying thought- for so many reasons

Whether he will continue to keep you after you give birth

If you will live after you give birth

The baby is massive so far, much bigger than any human child

You aren't even sure if your body can continue to manage nurturing the baby much further past this point

Sitting outside the door quickly became too much and standing was out of the question

It was best to just find a better time later to talk, he doesn't prioritize you over..anything if you think about it

In fact, Sukuna wouldn’t gaze in your direction even if you were to bleed out and slowly die, so, you go to your separate bathroom to start a bath

The thought of laying face first in the water and drowning yourself crosses your mind, but it goes away as you really think about it

If it didn't work, the punishment of living would be much too severe for it to be worth anything

The thought of living also crosses your mind, would it really be worth it?

To carry his child, and then to watch as he becomes his father?

If you didn't lose the weight would he be disgusted with you?

Just as you are about to leave for your room, he comes out, interrupting your thoughts

The woman is beside him, and he guides her with a hand on the small of her back

It's not rough nor gentle, the hand that pushes you out of the way as they walk down the hall

But the mental feel of it is excruciating

Your vision is blurred as you drag your feet to your bathroom

Your body is weak and malnourished

Then you trip over the decorative rug in the middle of the too-clean room

But you make no move to get up

The floor envelopes you as something hot and wet fills your underwear

This was bound to happen

You knew it, but you also knew you could only sit and wait as there was no way you could give birth to his child

It hurts, so bad

But that reminds you how real you are, that you feel things just like others

Maybe you didn't deserve to be ignored by the man who impregnated you

Perhaps you didn't deserve this life

All the bad things that happened aren't because you're a bad person, it has nothing to do with you

This was never meant to be your life, something more pure was

And as your consciousness slips away, a better feeling welcomes you

A better life waits ahead

And this one finally ends

Humans were like pets to Ryomen Sukuna. His servants took up such a little present of his life- but he took up almost all of theirs.

But you? You took up his everything. Late in the night after you were found lifeless in your separate bedroom- something he regrets making you have, he felt a change that night. Disappointment was a distinct feel, but there was something else. Hurt.

Possibly because this was something he now had no control over. Or maybe he was attached used to you.

None of that mattered in the end. You were no more. And as of now, so was he.

Originally split into 20 fingers- he now is trapped in the body of a high schooler.

He knows what he’s waiting for. More specifically, who- Satoru Gojo.

His body shakes with excitement as he thinks of all the ways he could kill him, threaten him, scare him into submission.

But that doesn't happen; not today at least.

Instead, he sees a much too-familiar face..but he doesn't immediately recognize who you are.

But as you come into view, arms interlocked with Satoru’s, greeting his students, he becomes filled with the need to switch.

When he heard you call out to the students, a realization washed over him.

That was his girl his concubine wrapped around Satoru Gojo

He knows it's you, it has to be. But he also knows his options are limited

He could call out your name- if it hadn't changed, or he could watch as you genuinely smile next to another man

If you had remembered him you wouldn't be with someone else, he knows that for a fact- right?

But you don't, he doesn't think you do at least

There's nothing he can do to remind you of all the nights you spent together

There's nothing he can do about it.

There's nothing he can do.

There's nothing.

.

This was going to take such a different route LOL. You were going to be eaten by either him or curses. The thought of going into more detail on the whole malnutrition path because of the baby also crossed my mind. It was going to be a DDDNE path. But no one would want that so I didn't <|3 Js did something short and sweet because I spent too much time making it ;( sorry about that, I love you all soooooooo much ✋ 🤚 (that much) ❤️

[honeytonedhottie]

decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽💓

the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀

WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;

a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.

some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?

SELF AWARENESS ;

if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.

when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.

TAKE UR POWER BACK ;

no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰

make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.

stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center

GET A HOBBY ;

find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀

challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.

MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;

decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀

relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.

you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->

if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?

if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?

what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?

[hees-mine]

Birthday girl - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, multiple orgasms, cursing, stepcest, daddy kink, dirty talk, cheating.

Genre: 18+, stepcest.

Word count: 2k+

-

“Mom, just one, please. I promise it’ll only be one.” It was your 21st birthday, and you celebrated in the kitchen with your mom and your stepdad as you begged her to let you have your first shot on the day you officially turned 21.

“No, I never had a shot at 21,” she simply answers, turning away from you and putting away the leftover cake she had your stepdad buy from the store cause she apparently couldn’t be bothered to get one for you herself.

“Mom, come on, that’s not fair!” You whined. “I’m literally an adult,” you reasoned.

“And you’re literally under my roof,” she replies back nonchalantly like she always does. You hated it when she acted like this.

She would always hold things over your head: no sleepovers, no parties, no boyfriends, no nothing, and it’s not cause she was looking out for you. It’s cause she was jealous of you.

She always told you how she never got to have any of those things, and now you can’t shake the feeling that even though she never directly said it to you, you feel like she’s taking it out on her only daughter, which just isn’t fair.

“Dad!” You turned to heeseung your stepdad, looking for his approval, and he gave you the tiniest hint of a smile while folding his arms and resting against the kitchen counter.

You and your stepdad had a much better relationship than you and your mother, unlike her. He seemed to actually care about you, which is comical cause he wasn’t even your real dad, and he treated you better than your mom ever did.

He’d always vouch for you, defend you when arguments got too heated, and he never made you feel like you were always in the wrong, unlike your mother did.

His care for you did go a lot further than just how a stepdad would care for their stepchild because his hugs would last a couple of seconds too long. His kisses on the cheek were a little too affectionate, and he'd eye you when you wore revealing outfits a bit too much.

You didn't mind, though. You did it on purpose cause you liked the attention. He wasn't your real dad, and besides, you had met him so late in your life that you were already fully grown, and you didn't even see him as a father figure at all.

Dad never even crossed your mind when you thought about him. All you saw was a very attractive man, and you wondered how your strict, bitter mother landed a gem like him.

“You heard your mom.” he swipes the cake as your mom sets it in the fridge and licks the frosting off his fingertip, humming at the sweet taste. “Now go upstairs and get ready for bed, young lady.”

You rolled your eyes and did as he said. You thought he’d vouch for you this time, too, but apparently not.

Little did you know he had other plans up his sleeve. He only said no to you cause he was not about to start a fight with his wife over you taking one measly shot, especially since it was your birthday.

His wife always had a way of making things about her just cause she didn’t get a shot at 21. Why couldn’t you? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say his wife was jealous of her own daughter, and if he’s being honest, it was kinda getting on his nerves the way she’d bitch at you all the time for virtually nothing.

When he married her, she was not like that at all, but once he moved in and you all became family, the whole dynamic changed. She paid more attention to scolding you than him.

He wasn’t needy necessarily, but he did get lonely sometimes, especially in the bedroom, and heeseung noticed that you talked to him more than his own wife.

Which resulted in him developing maybe not a crush but a certain attraction to you, and to his luck, it was mutual between the two of you, considering all the shameless flirting you did back and forth.

At first, he felt a bit guilty, but with the way he was feeling in his marriage, he might as well have been single. He’s not excusing his actions, but he definitely doesn’t care or feel any shame in checking you out from head to toe on a daily basis.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t spill his load in his palm once or twice at the thought of you.

How could he not when you’d purposefully bend over in front of him pretending that you dropped something or the way you’d push your chest against his whenever you’d hug?

You had already gotten ready for bed, sulking a bit as you leaned against the bed frame, scrolling on your phone.

Heeseung had joined his wife upstairs, lying next to her and sharing a quiet goodnight before they turned off the bedside lamps.

It was always like this: completely silent, no conversation, no talking about the day, no intimacy, absolutely nothing.

Even if he did try to talk, she’d always say she was stressed or tired.

Another one of the reasons Heeseung didn’t feel guilty for having feelings toward you was that you gave him the time of day.

He sighs putting his hands behind his head and staring at the celling finally after an hour passed his wife was fast asleep so he silently slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen where the cupboard was located pulling out a bottle of liquor one he bought expressly for you cause you had been going on all week about wanting to take a shot on your 21st.

He snuck over to your room, knocking on it softly, knowing you’d still be up. You were always up late.

You sighed and got out of bed tossing your blanket to the side and ripping open the door ready to be faced with your mom and some more of her shenanigans. “Wha-“ you stopped mid-way through, shocked to see that it was actually your stepdad instead, and you were pleasantly surprised to see he was in nothing but his underwear and a shirt.

“Hey,” he laughs softly, waving a bottle of liquor in your face along with two shot glasses.

“H-hi,” you smile upon seeing the bottle.

“Are you gonna let me in? Or are you gonna wait for your mom to catch us?” He smirks and you open the door further to let him in…

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[clitorphosis]

REAL MUSOR

Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CONSENSUAL SEX, STALKING, SOMNOPHILIA, SMUT, female reader, Leon is a cop and a little bit obsessive, breeding, he is icky, mutual masturbation (reader isnt aware of it btw), unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, entering and breaking, forced exhibitionism I guess?, dirty talk, pet names, light gaslighting, non consensual voyeurism, use of spycams, police corruption, non consensual drug use.

Summary: dating isnt really Leon's thing, to waste his precious time and money over a woman that may refuse to have sex with him at the first date isn't worth it. Sure, putting cameras in your apartment to jerk off of your body and breaking in to fuck you are considered much better ways to get what he wants - quicker too.

notes: Musor is a derogatory slang term for a cop (=pig), also it means "trash" :3 I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Leon has a problem and it started many years ago. Not his alcoholism, no, that can be put aside as something to indulge when life hits hard. Guilty pleasure one would call it. Not his job too, he likes being a cop - it comes with its own advantages. His problem is much simpler and it also got nothing to do with his dick.

Dating apps. They aren’t his cup of tea; meeting new people is hard and nowadays most of them try to find someone on dating sites or apps. Wasteful, he is an employed man with a big responsibility so to court a woman that may be a gold digger would be foolish. Also, unluckily for Leon, one date is not enough to bring most women into bed and the prices are already too high so risking to find a parasite without any payback isn’t something straight out of his dreams.

Also, women don’t get wet if you are a cop unless they have a cop fetish. Apparently, uniforms and handcuffs are only cool in the bedroom. Not like he minds that, cause with time Leon found other ways to enjoy his women. Much more preferable ways.

Two or three knocks on the wooden surface with his knuckles, fingers ran through his blonde locks so they wouldn’t dangle in front of his eyes. Your door opens wide with your confused eyes set on his frame, not expecting any guests, especially a cop. A bad omen.

“Good afternoon, I am here to check. Someone complained about noises coming from your apartment at this hour, miss” Leon explains, showing a pearl-like smile. Too perfect, too cheesy, but attractive appearance always soothed people’s worries, being easy on the eyes makes things uncomplicated. Who doesn’t trust beautiful people? “It won’t take too long”

A pensive hum escapes from your tensed lips, but there is no other choice other than accepting this - you nod, letting him enter inside without any additional questions. Like taking candy from a baby. And you were dumb, which ended up playing nice for him.

The apartment is a studio one, not expensive too. That was expected, you look young, but not enough to have your own place. Renting at a cheap price in not notoriously good neighborhood suits you better.

When the checkup is finished, you seemed so worried to hear his eventual words or clear bullshit. Not every person is used to a cop’s presence in their own cozy little place. Suspicions are natural reactions, but not for you, still believing in that little story that he told you before. A blatant lie, only the dumb bitch would have believed that. You.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry—“ you were apologizing almost every time he would appear in front of you. And even now. Annoying, but also hearing your words filled with so much anxiety made him feel good. Really good. And any wrong word would make you cry easily. Which would be nice to see. He cut your quick rambling, waving a hand mindlessly as his eyes travel to shelves.

“Yeah,“ Whatever. Leon nods absently, finally crumbling to the urge to glance into your almost glossy eyes - with great pleasure enjoying his own reflection in them. His mind wanders to possible images of your face filled with tears underneath him, easily making his pants feel tight around his cock. He can’t help himself. “Maybe someone holds grudges against you, be careful”

Another bullshit, but still you appeared unsure and at the edge of his presence until he was out of your apartment. There should be kept a count of his successful lies. As a respectful man, it was hard not to thank you and wishing well-being before leaving. After all, it would be a bad touch to leave without a gift, right? Leon hadn’t actually thought these little cameras would be used today, but fate had other plans for you. In his defense, it was really hard not to set those little cameras in your apartment while he was ‘doing’ his job. Especially when you were so sweet to him. Weirdly enough, installing them was an easy and quick task, even simpler was to find crannies or shelves to put in these little cameras he had bought or confiscated. After all, it would have been a big waste to throw them away, right?

So sweet. You were asking for it.

An easy target too. And now many rooms were under his watchful eye; bathroom (the best view is there), bedroom and also in living room too. In a little time, Leon got to know your schedule, it wasn’t hard to remember - a simple routine, even a kid would be able to memorize it. Like a little TV show, he enjoys watching after work or during his rare vacations. Whatever you do on Friday morning, when you return home, and when you usually go to sleep. Or when you have your private time, masturbating in bed alone and filling his ears with your moans. Or even better, showering or resting in the hot tub, your tits and body exposed to him - like a nicely wrapped present that he needs to open one day.

The best part is - you aren’t aware of this.

You aren’t aware that many evenings when your fingers creep their way down to your pussy to part its lips and rub slow circles on already swollen clit under the sounds of cheap-acted porn actress’ moans - these evenings were shared with Leon. There is that arousing wet sound when your fingers stroke your leaking pussy. His attention easily glues to the screen, out of habit freeing his hard cock from the pants - it bobs and twitches in the air with already formed beads of pre-cum on his aching tip just begging for any kind of attention. Your lips would be nice, but a tight pussy even better. His fist cups it in a tight grip, slowly pumping his cock while watching the sight of your trembling and parted legs. And your moans, little breathless whimpers - his favorite. Sadly, this gets muffled by his moans, as his own strokes become rougher and quicker trying to keep up with your fingers. Leon knows the signs of your approaching orgasm, he knows everything about you too well. Watching like a possessed man as your toes curl from the growing pleasure, thighs snap closed around your wrist as your back arches while making more sweet noises.

He cums with you too, at the same time. His body tenses and his hand grips tighter around his hard cock. Eyes rolling back. Mind blank, intense orgasm hits him hard as usual. No other thoughts other than how good you are for him. And pretty. His breathing is hard and heavy, feeling his cum sticking to the skin of his hand and stomach.

The best porn he can ever see - special too, only for him. Putting such a show for him to enjoy after a hard day of work.

Feeling the stickiness of his cum on his palm and not being able to avert his eyes from your spent body. This brings him to his senses like an apple falling onto his head, a sweet idea. He needs more of you.

It has become a routine at this point.

Did he abuse his authority? Yes. Does he care? He doesn’t, because in other circumstances he would do that again.

Watching your body and getting off from this little show isn’t enough anymore. Doesn’t hit the same. Like a drug addict, searching for another dose and something stronger one can offer. He needs his hands on you. Going further, exploiting every opportunity his job gave him - it wasn’t hard to start breaking in without any traces.

Leon can’t be reckless nor impulsive, but to keep his hands to himself and not give in to a sweet fruit was hard.

Your sleep is short, he noticed that soon. You wake up at every little noise coming from different sources. That won’t do. This is not good and can’t be healthy for a young woman. On one of many visits to your empty apartment, to take a little present for himself or to adjust cams, an idea popped into his mind: why not put something in the bottles of water? The dose would be light anyway, this drug can easily knock out a big, burly man and Leon is here just to take care of you, in a boyfriend-like way. Not to overdose you.

Your apartment feels homely to him already, kicking off his shoes before walking freely around the place. He may be a cop, but not a pig. The anticipation was insupportable, months of waiting for your body, many concerns - not being really sure about the method and the dose. What if it wasn’t enough, what if it wouldn’t work, and many-many ‘if’. Leon had waited enough, there was a limit to his patience and it was already tearing apart with every passing second.

The mattress beneath you dips softly with his added weight, in the dark room the outlines of your figure are still visible, and the edge of your shirt is rode up and shamelessly exposes the flesh of your stomach - what a tease you are and you don’t even realize it. Your unconscious body, deep in the sleep, and he probably has all night to enjoy you. This heightens his arousal, not daring to touch you for a solid minute - not believing how lucky he is right now. Blood buzzes in his ears, hearing his own thoughts now: you, fuck you dumb, and need to cum in that pussy.

“I know you so well,” Leon whispers, his voice comes out shaky. What a man wouldn’t do to stuff a pussy. His lips carefully kissed yours, not being able to pull away his eyes from your peaceful face. Tracking out every little twitch in your features, but you are in a deep slumber. “like a book that I learned to remember. By heart. Inside… and out”

His hand lightly touches your neck, giving a brief squeeze, watching you gasp when he lets it go. Still asleep. Leon is testing the waters here.

“Oh, it’s alright, sweetie ” Leon whispers, not being able to hide his fascination towards your state. Cupping your jaw and tilting it to the side, like a doll to play and move around as much as he wants. “We are on camera, this is so important for both of us. Something to remember, right?”

This is wrong, of course, in the back of his mind someone whispers that Leon shouldn’t enjoy this so much - you are unconscious, not aware, but that’s the thrill. In any other circumstances, he could pull out a gun to force you, but the idea was pulled aside as the sight of your malleable state is much better. His fingers rubbed your thighs, pushing them apart easily so he could position himself in between. So soft, he can’t help but enjoy the sensation of your skin, his hand impatiently slips to push away the fabric of your underwear, to get a real glance and close of your not-so-aroused pussy. Too bad, but this is easy to fix. A mouthful spit of saliva would be quick and nice, a way to avoid a headache, but he changed his mind - your pussy is shaved. Leon whistles lowly, what a good girl you are. To bury his face in your pussy would be a nice start, after all, you have shaved for him, no? He is nice enough to reward you for this.

Shifting a little bit, easily manhandling your legs and placing them on his shoulders. Leon spits down a mouthful of saliva on your cunt, before leaning down with a long and broad stripe across your pussy, parting the lips with his tongue, groaning against your slit. Tongue glides across the folds, slowly warming your body up, like a hungry man trying to relish in the taste of your pussy so sweetly lingering in his mouth.

“Such a good girl, letting me play with you like that” Leon groans against your clit, it sends a pleasant vibration across your limp body. His hands grip tightly the flesh of your thighs, a normal person would have woken up to push him away, right? His mouth sucks on the clit, giving light bites with his teeth and your hips naturally try to ride him, messily bucking into his face with every rapid lick of his tongue across your sensitive bud.

Fuck, your reactions are cute, he wants more. His two digits push inside your hole, starting to move in and out of you shortly - making your body flinch again and a soft moan draws from your lips. He kept lapping across your slicked folds, his teeth nibbling on the sensitive nub, but not enough to hurt - his tongue laps away that bite anyway, not forgetting to suck your clit in between his lips too.

Your cunt gushes wetly around his fingers, they curl up against your walls, with the rough pace pumping and press on the velvety and wet skin, until he finds the spongy, sweet spot that made your hole clench tighter around his fingers. Soft and weak moans escape from your now parted lip, chest raises up and down rhythmically with every thrust. That’s a good sign. The taste of you and your natural body reactions entrances him, making his cock throb more in his pants, straining so hard and uncomfortable against the fabric. Leon pulls away from your now-soaked slit, impatiently freeing his cock from the jeans. It would be a waste to finish this so quickly after just getting a taste, fingers pull out of your hole roughly with a wet pop, your cunt left dripping, wet, and cold now like he took all the heat with it. Frankly, Leon does not care about your pleasure. Unlikely he will any time soon.

“Huh, you like this” Leon mumbles out slowly to himself, his hand gripping his cock and it twitches in his fist as Leon began slowly stroking it. Thumb presses on its tip, stimulating more pleasure through his body and letting out a breathless moan as his blue gaze surveys his work; your warmed-up pussy, more aroused than before. It glistens with your slick and his saliva on it. What an addicting sight. A light feeling of pride rose in his chest, as his hand flexed again and more beads of pre-cum formed on the tip, quick strokes smeared it along his sensitive and hard flesh. His cock throbs and aches to be inside you. Hell, Leon needs to stop before he cum over your unconscious state. Impatiently not noticing his own heavy breathing filling the air, he positioned his cock to your pussy.

“Who would have known you would be so fucking wet for me” he cooed huskily, rubbing his cockhead against your slicked folds, bumping against your clit. Your arousal is mixed with his saliva, it spreads easily on his veiny and hard cock - to use it as a lube. Easy and free, he doesn’t bother to buy one after all. His free hand grips your hip tightly, angling it to finally guide his cock into your neglected hole. “you really waited for me to use you, right? Just dying for more.”

Deep down, like every man, Leon prioritizes his pleasure. Who doesn’t actually? Good women should be eager to please and look nice for him. Attractive even. Unfortunately, your state isn’t the one to expect the eagerness. But there are advantages to this too: unconscious girls are much easier to enjoy. But still, giving a free pass to you isn’t something that will please him, no matter how good your pussy is. His pleasure has been always the most important element in the sex. Would not be fair to his former lovers too. He is so nice after all, any other man would have pulled out a gun to threaten you after breaking in to fuck you without putting a substance into some of your drinks. That’s an idea to keep for next time.

Your pussy feels so nice, your walls stretch around his length slowly. Leon imagined it differently, not so tight, but tighter it is, better for him. Warm heat envelops him almost in a vice-like grip, forcing a low groan coming from his throat. Maybe this wouldn’t be pleasant for you if you were conscious. But also, aren’t you so sweet and nice? Of course, you would have let him do that over and over. And if you wouldn’t - again, Leon doesn’t care. Your pussy engulfs him in so addictingly warm and to make this even better, your walls clench ridiculously tight around his cock. For a moment, Leon was not sure he would have been able to last long enough for him. Your pussy makes him dizzy, so much that he needed to take a pause, keeping his cock halfway through.

Leon slowly pulls out, leaving inside you just the head of his cock, his gaze is not on you anymore. He couldn’t care less about your state, but the sight of your pussy stretching around his tip is the one he can get drunk on. Popping it in and out, over and over until all he can hear are wet and filthy noises - and his own moans mixed with heavy breathing, while more slick gushing and now sinking his cock into you deeper and so easily. That didn’t last long, he hates denying himself what he needs. What he craves and now he craves to fuck you. And cum. Inside you. And he will.

“Taking me so right… fuck” Leon groans, burying his cock deep inside you, his hips meet flat against your ass. Slowly starting to roll his hips back and forth, deep and slow thrust, hitting his cockhead against your cervix.

This is addicting to him, worse than any kind of drug. Mindlessly mumbling out senseless praises, while his hips rock into you in quick thrusts, heavily breathing and not being able to look away from your leaking cunt. God, the images of you waking up and begging to stop fill his mind in a suffocating manner - his cock throbs inside you, another slam of hips. A hard gulp.

A man should be careful with his own wishes. Nails weakly dig into his biceps, not enough to leave half-moon marks. Even a kitten would have been able to leave a deeper scratch on his skin. But still, Leon’s hips stutter, realizing you shouldn’t move. In the dark, your eyes are half open, clearly fighting with the grogginess of the drug in your system and trying to orientate.

“Shhhh… easy there, sweetie. Be a good girl, get back to sleep” The tone of his voice is sweet and whisper-like, but the breathless lilt is still there. Your back aches weakly again, feeling him hitting your g-spot in slow and agonizing thrusts, but this isn’t enough to pull you out of your state. God your head is dizzy and the man in front of you is so blurry too. Heavy breathing escapes from your lips, swallowing hard the excessive saliva pooling in your mouth. It is hard to squint, hard to focus on anything. A side effect he didn’t know about, still not his fault.

“Not real, just a bad dream” Leon adds, his breath fanning across the side of your head, watching how your expressions shift weakly and eyelashes flutter as he slowly drags his cock out to bury it back in the same pace into your pulsing pussy.

“No…uhh…-not a dream…” your voice is so weak, meek, his dick fills your pussy entirely, every drag of it makes your body tremble and tighten around it more. You are easy to play though, mind is so fogged by the drug it would be easy to convince you.

Blue eyes almost spark in the dark, looking down at your confused and groggy state, his hand covers your mouth - he doesn’t need any noises other than moans and whimpers coming from you. Too distracting. You are clearly not aware of what’s happening, feeling the heaviness of your body dragging you back into the intoxicated slumber.

“…Just a dream. ” Leon repeats, enjoying watching you trying to push him away, your hands ghostly pressing against his chest in a weak protest. “Be a good girl, nothing bad will happen”

And these struggles make his cock throb in your pussy. So addicting to watch how the drug in your system is still kicking strong making your limbs return to being limp again, God, he was so close to just busting a load in you.

His pace quickens, becoming more ruthless and messier than before. He can’t stay here forever, unfortunately, but god he wants to fall asleep on you with his cock and cum buried inside you - to watch your reaction in the morning. All he can hear right now is the flesh-hitting sounds mixing with wet ones too. Your lips twitch, heavy pants and whimpers drawl out of them, while your pussy clenches tightly in a silent plea to fill it, not only with his cock, but sperm too.

God, and if you aren’t on the pill? What a nice present he may give you after this night. Getting you pregnant was enough for his hips to stutter in their pace for the last time, before shooting a hot load of sperm inside you. Burying deep inside, the warm cum fills your pussy almost to the brim, his mind is blank - focused how his cock pumped rope after rope inside you. When he is all spent, Leon slowly pulls out of you, and a disappointed whimper escapes from you too - too bad, he is not going to let you get your high. Too much work. His blue eyes watch how the cum oozes out of your hole for the last time.

The lights of the morning are particularly blinding, you’ve never noticed that before. Dryness in your throat. Like needles pressing inside every time you swallow down, aching for a gloss of water. The urge to throw up and to hide away from the rays of sunlight is overwhelming, not stronger than the heaviness in your body though. You force yourself out of the bed, dragging yourself to the bathroom was so hard, like a heavy bag instead of your body - it is already almost impossible to wake up and get your things done. Washing away the exhaustion from your face with the chilly water from the faucet. Your mind is foggy and not catching on to sticky feeling in your panties. Nonetheless, your body screams at you - your stomach feels turned inside out, messy, and used. And unsatisfied. Like you had the worst sex in your life, without getting your own high.

Your memory tries to flash out the sight of the dark room and blue eyes, being filled and hearing his voice whispering heavily, but you shake your head - pushing it away in your mind. Hiding it in imaginary drawers, - just a dream. Nothing more, you check your door every night. It is always locked.

Yes, a bad one, explains your state too. The nightmare does exhaust you easily after all.