#creed fic

[bamfkeeper]

NSFW Alphabet: Sabretooth

a/n: I know this is more a Nightcrawler focused blog, but I will still write a few other X-men characters just because. And since I did a SFW of Sabretooth, I wanted to do a NSFW one too. So here he is, in all his bloody glory. I was a little more vulgar in this one than in the Nightcrawler one, but it fit for this character. As mentioned in previous posts, I try to mix multiple depictions of the character so it's not just based on a single one. So I take inspiration from comics, shows, and films. I might revamp this later. I hope you enjoy <3

Minors DNI. 18+ below the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Sabretooth doesn't exactly get the whole aftercare thing, I mean, he isn't really known for his gentle nature.

When you first get together and fool around, he probably is the type to fuck and leave, or make you leave. He's blunt; he straight up tells you when you're done to get out or he will leave your space. He treats sex almost like an animal, one purpose: to fuck and then he will go on his merry way.

However if you continue your little relationship, then he might slowly start to understand what to do. He isn't typical by any means. You will be left with claw marks and bites, and you will bleed. It's unavoidable, those claws and teeth? Come on.

He wouldn't treat them normally, but he would lick them, his saliva has an antiseptic aspect to it, so he is 'cleaning' your wounds that he left but in his own way. It might feel weird, but just let him do his thing. That's probably the closest he will get to being gentle anyway. If they are deep enough he might tend a little more but honestly he feels like he does enough by cleaning them with his tongue.

Sabretooth is also generally pretty happy with himself after sex. He would be calmed down a bit from his norm, because he satisfied something primal in his nature. This might be one of the only times you can convince him to lay still for a period of time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Sabretooth obviously loves his own claws, his weapon of choice on enemies and on you. He loves making you shiver when he drags them down your body with just enough pressure to make you squirm.

But he also has a big ego, so...he is pretty proud of his size.

He'd like your thighs and ass, kneading them like a cat and pawing at you every chance he got. He grabs your legs and loves how soft you feel, and he likes smacking your backside and watching his hips drill into you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Prepare for a lot of it. He is messy and doesn't give a shit about what kind of mess he makes. Inside, outside, doesn't matter to him. He likes to spread it around your face if he shoots his load onto you, or likes watching you open your mouth and show him what mess he made on your tongue.

Can't hate a good creampie either, he loves filling you up. It fulfills that need that burns in his groin every time you have sex. Every instinct screams at him to bury his cock against your cervix and blow his load directly into your womb.

Or he tries to push as far in your ass as he can, listening to you moan as he fills you up, the head of his dick brushing your g-spot perfectly.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

He doesn't really have any secrets, he's fairly open about what he likes. But he does have a strong desire towards scents. He doesn't like super perfumed body wash or soaps, he likes the natural smell of things, so he would prefer non-scented soaps rather than the ones that smell sweet or strong.

He likes smelling your groin a lot, especially in the mornings when the scent is the strongest naturally. You always wake up and feel him tugging your legs open so he can smell you. It does typically lead to other things...

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He absolutely knows what he's doing. He's had plenty of partners in the past, so he knows just what to do in the bedroom.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Doggy feels most natural for him. He likes mounting you from behind and he can get a good grip on you when he's pounding into you. He also likes to bite on the back of your neck or your shoulder. Plus he always has a good view before he puts his dick on you.

Sometimes you ride him, gravity helps pull you down on his cock. But you don't get to ride him too often because he doesn't like being on his back for very long. He only has so much self control.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He'll make jokes every now and then, but it's all with the dirty talk he gives you. It's all very intense, and he will tease you a lot.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He's a burly, hairy dude. So you can imagine how he looks down there, pretty untamed, not like that really matters. He doesn't see the point to shaving himself, unless you really, really wanted him to, he probably wouldn't ever do it on his own.

He has a hairy happy trail from his belly button that leads down to his pubic hair. His chest is hairy too, and you like to play with it and curl it around your fingers sometimes, which makes him roll his eyes but you do it anyway.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Sabretooth isn't romantic, he's more of a...let's fuck type of guy. His idea of romance is giving you a real, bloody heart torn straight out of an animal or person. And kissing you if he's all messy with blood from a hunt.

If you accept a lot of his habits, he might adapt and try to do something more typically romantic for you in return, or something that you'd see as romantic, whatever that may be. But don't expect him to completely change who he is to be a super romantic guy. And don't ever tell anyone if he does something like that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He probably doesn't masturbate a whole lot, he might when he's feeling real pent up, but why would he masturbate when he has you to take care of all his needs?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Sabretooth is pretty damn kinky, he isn't ashamed about any of his sexual desires and is open with you about them.

He obviously loves predator/prey dynamics, he likes to pretend to hunt you in the woods and when he catches you, he fucks you into the mossy ground. It gets his instincts going and he feels like his cock is on fire when he's hunting you. Plus the sex that comes from 'hunting' you is honestly some of the best you've had. Prey pet names for sure.

Breeding is a huge kink for him. He likes making a mess, but he prefers to bury himself into you and fill you up, regardless if you can get pregnant or not. He will pound multiple loads into you and won't stop until you are squirting it out around his cock.

BDSM is something that's interesting to him, though not every aspect of it. He's a pretty big sadist, so his claws and teeth will definitely mark you up all bloody and you'll be bruised from his hard grip on you thanks to his strength. He'd probably be into impact play, so he'd like to spank you while he's fucking you.

I think he might find bondage fun just because you'd be completely helpless and it can tie into the whole predator/prey play too. Like a little bunny caught in a snare and he stumbles upon you, helpless to the hungry big cat.

I think he probably would have a thing for housewife type of behavior, things that aren't inherently sexual but can turn him on. So cleaning and cooking, bringing him beer or food while he sits back, I don't know I just have a weird feeling he would be into that.

I also think he'd be interested in CNC. It's something that you'd have to talk heavily about, but I think it would be something he would want to try.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

He's down to do it anywhere. He doesn't give a shit who hears or sees. But the bedroom is where you two can really let loose. He also likes doing it in the woods, he has a few spots he will take you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Being submissive around him or showing submissive behavior will catch his attention. The primal part of him picks up on all of that, so speaking to him without eye contact, or when he approaches slightly lowering your head are things he instantly picks up on.

I also think if you make yourself vulnerable on purpose around him, he'd definitely like that. If you display your belly or neck, like laying down or seeming careless if he gets close are things he would eye closely, since most of the people around him (human or mutant) tend to be extremely cautious.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Sabretooth wouldn't really be interested in 'making love.' He's a primal mutant. He would want to give in to all of his desires, and he would want whomever he's sleeping with to do the same.

I don't think he would be into someone who challenges his dominance either. He'd take it as an insult and it would trigger his aggression. I don't see him as being a bottom at all, but that's just my opinion. So he wouldn't have any desire to take that position.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He's going to be pretty selfish, and he absolutely prefers receiving. He loves looking down and seeing you try to take him all in your mouth. It turns him on more knowing you're trying your best but still can't fit all of him. He will tease you and talk dirty the entire time.

"Awe, what's the matter...am I too big for you? Can't fit all of me in that pretty mouth? Don't worry...I'll make it fit."

Prepare for a deepthroat and possible face fuck because he gets a little carried away.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Rough, fast, unforgiving. He might allow you a moment to adjust when he first penetrates you, but he hardly waits long. There is nothing stopping him from going full on wild mode.

He likes to watch you squirm as he pushes deeper and deeper, watching your little hole stretch around him as you whine. He swears he could cum just from listening to you and watching you struggle to fit him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He can actually cum pretty quick when he knows you're only going to get a few minutes to fuck, so he's down for a quickie, pretty much wherever.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Absolutely. He loves to experiment, especially if he discovers something he hasn't tried before, he'd want to try it out once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

He has enhanced stamina because of his mutation so...he can go for multiple rounds. His period to recover is practically nonexistent, thanks to that mutation.

He can also last a few minutes to much longer. It just depends, but he does prefer multiple rather than dragging out a single long orgasm.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He does not have any toys of his own, other than maybe a few BDSM items like rope or impact things. He doesn't care if his partner has any. In his mind, the toys couldn't compare to him so he could care less.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

A lot. Sabretooth is the king of teasing. He can be somewhat selfish, he will deny your orgasm just so when he finally allows you to cum, it feels like a huge wave washing over you rather than just a little jolt of pleasure. He will bring you up to the brink, but never push you over until he's ready for that to happen.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Sabretooth is loud, when he isn't dirty talking you, he is grunting, groaning, snarling. He makes animalistic noises rather than moaning or whining. He knows you like hearing him, so he will lean down and make those noises against your ear, while telling you how good you feel wrapped around his dick.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

He purrs after he orgasms, he takes a moment to catch his breath and he will purr against you, but he catches himself before he does it for too long and acts like he wasn't.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Sabretooth is a BIG dude. So, obviously his dick is gonna be big. He's definitely a shower, but he grows a bit when erect.

Flaccid, his bulge is already big, so it can look intimidating before you even get his pants off. His ego always flares up when he sees how you look at his crotch.

Erect he looks near impossible to put into you, but somehow he fits. He's anywhere between 7.5-9 inches. He is girthy too, which is really what you feel when he fucks you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

He has a high sex drive, he can fuck anytime, anywhere. He gets horny from hunting, killing, fighting, all of his instincts flare up and it triggers all of the good feelings in his brain.

Sabretooth would want to fuck a lot, he could do it multiple times a day if possible.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

Instantly, he likes to chill out after he has sex. A beer or cigar, then he knocks out. He doesn't bother to shower half the time, so he just likes to kick back and relax.

He might take a shower upon request, but he will complain and grumble about it.

If you like to shower after sex, he would let you go on your own while he has his beer or cigar. He's large, so you and him in the shower together would be awkward and cramped, plus he likes to have a few minutes of space afterwards.

If you are wounded, aka clawed up, he will watch you while you sleep for a bit and then he will fall asleep.

His bed is very soft, it's adorned with furs, pelts, and a thin quilt as the comforter, so you tend to fall asleep after cleaning up.

If you lay on him after, he will run his claws along your back lazily, making you shiver. Knowing those claws to maim and mutilate, but they only graze your skin. It's a strangely gentle gesture that you never reject. He does this until he falls asleep.

Thanks for reading. <3

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover picture cropped from X-Men Origins Sabretooth #1 (2009)

[ethan-acfan]

Just your friendly reminder that during ac3, they had started leaving Desmond in the animus for up to 3 days at a time, possibly longer. They also didn't tell him he was going to be spending extended time in the animus until AFTER the time had already passed, and not only that, they told him in an email. Not even to his face, through a goddamn email.

[thou-babbling-brook]

Even little revolutionaries get sleepy 🌙💤

[wolfofartblock]

"There are those frustrated with the results of the Animus project, and the last subject didn't make things any easier. Sorry Mister Miles, but we're not taking any chances this time around."

"This is a strain of the Blacklight Virus, recently obtained from the bright minds of one of our sister companies. Supposedly it's sapient, but it should at least be obedient. Play nice with it, okay?"

--------------------------------------

Seconds before disaster struck lmao. The virus was not supposed to be used in this way, and so we'll pretend Abstergo's building was ground zero for the outbreak rather than Penn Station

[teecupangel]

So. We’ve seen Desmond going back in time and becoming a doctor in Altaïr’s time and Ezio’s time, but I’ve never seen Desmond becoming a doctor in Ratonhnhaké:ton’s time. Any ideas?

The first thing I thought about is Desmond going to the homestead and just staying there as a doctor but that would be taking Dr White’s place and Ratonhnhaké:ton would never turn him away when he clearly needed help.

The next idea that I thought of is that Desmond just kicked the door open to the manor, told Achilles that he was Altaïr’s descendant and that he’s trying to hide from people out for his blood so he’s gonna stay there. Achilles tries to shoo him away, Ratonhnhaké:ton thinks he’s telling the truth (Desmond didn’t say that the people out for his blood was far into the distant future but he didn’t lie) so he’s supportive of Desmond staying in the manor.

That’s how Desmond starts his ‘unofficial’ job as the private physician of Davenport manor.

More often than not, he takes care of any wounds that Ratonhnhaké:ton gets and checks him every time he returned to the manor after his missions. He also visits the dock and check on the crew of the Aquila to ensure no one was on their way to suffering scurvy.

And most importantly, he takes over cooking duties to make sure Achilles eats well and healthy and absolutely not skipping any meals and just drinking tea and eating some biscuits.

He and Dr White form a kind of partnership. Dr White takes care of the residents of the homestead, Desmond takes care of the two men in the manor.

Dr White also shares his medicines and tinctures (although Desmond isn’t really keen on a lot of them) and Desmond teaches him what he knows of.

Where did he get his medical background?

Well…

Let’s just say Desmond really got into House MD and started researching and watching actual medical documentaries and books. He knows a lot about first aid and medical properties of herbs and plants because of the Farm’s education so he’s really a mix-match 21st century survivalist medical know how and ‘all theories but no practice’ medical student rolled up into one molotov cocktail ready to explode.

Dr White finds him fascinating but also knows that there would be doctors who would dismiss Desmond’s practices and maybe even call him a charlatan.

It should be fine if he remains in the homestead.

Because he will remain in the homestead.

Right?

.

Of course not. Desmond leaves the homestead once things really starts moving for the revolution and becomes a field doctor.

And that’s how he got the interest of George Washington.

[auroramoon-draws16]

Alright fellas, not a crossover, but I got the goods

Assassin’s Creed Shifters AU

Eagle vision? Nah, full Eagle at will.

I mean, duh, they still have Eagle Vision, they get all the good shit, but they can also turn into a bird at will. It’s not always an eagle, but most of the time it’s raptors. Unless you’re the Frye twins, because Corvids, caw caw bitch.

Desmond freaked the fuck out the first time he shifted, he knew about it, sure, but hell if turning into a goddamn bird wasn’t something to lose your shit about.

Assassins through history could turn into birds at will to help scope their prey- I mean targets- fuck with the Templar’s plans, and get to places faster. (Leonardo would have loved that shit, Ezio, go help your homie learn to fly)

Although that means it’s anyone who have Eagle Vision strong enough can Shift.That means arial fights, claw each other to death bitch.

Also getting kidnapped while shifted and shoved into a cage, look, it’s hard to shift back to human form in small spaces without horrific consequences. Luckily, Assassins keep their human minds while shifted. Oh you wanna keep me hostage? Bitch, I’ll be a fucking problem.

On a lighter note: bird instincts. The best Assassins have them and it can be hilarious.

Have fun fellas!

[rozesmiana]

I was procrastinating on my work and seeing that @stuntzthedude ‘s newest fic chapter absolutely rocked my shit, this lil comic happened ✨

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.2 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: Long awaited and well over due. This is basically chapter 12 but it really connects to 11.1. Nothing to say except enjoy!

“Michael, stop messing with the fuckin’ cuff links!” Alex called over to him from her spot on the couch. “I thought you weren’t nervous??” 

Michael cut his eyes toward his agent before forcing his fingers away from the gold cufflinks near his wrist. That had been his original claim when he arrived at his suite to get ready, proudly boosting that he did not feel nervous at all. And some part of him had believed that was true. But as makeup ended and he got dressed, the nerves started to settle in. Tonight was no longer some distant potential achievement. It was here and now. And his shoulders were starting to feel the weight of that pressure. He tried his best to remain excited and upbeat but there were some ticks he simply couldn’t hide. 

“Ha ha. I’m just… you know, already ready for it to be over. Gotta sit through 100 fuckin’ awards before they get to mine. Just gonna be a long night.” 

“Whatever you say,” she muttered, her face scrunching up at her phone for a minute. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” his antenna going up immediately, anxiety that something had already gone wrong seeping into his confident facade. “Fuck… You think we should’ve gone with the other suit, don’t you??” 

“Nigga… they’re both black tuxes, calm down. No one’s ever looked at you to be the pillar of fashion. You look great, that’s all that matters. Just taking care of some last minute details, boring shit you wouldn’t be interested in.” 

Michael knew not to press any farther as she immediately changed the subject, standing up and starting to walk over to him. He watched as she studied the time on her phone screen for a moment as his stylist’s assistant slid on the tailored jacket for his suite.

“Can someone check on his mom? Jason went to check out the space and it’s ready for photos. We gotta start in 10 though if we want to make it to the carpet.” 

“I’ll go.” 

He was thankful his mom agreed to accompany him on such a momentous occasion, she was the only date he could fathom taking as the woman he wanted was unavailable. 

Raven. 

Some fantasy that she would call or text him good luck drove him to check his phone every 20 minutes or so, praying for anything that signaled that she thought of him as he did her. She tortured his every waking thought, even after agreeing to give her the space she desperately wanted and needed. But his soul did not want space, his soul wanted their better half, the person who made all of this worth something. 

He shook his head for a moment and forced her to the back of his brain, where he knew she would only stay for a short while. No more than 10 minutes would go by before someone or something reminded him of her. But when he thought of her too long, the sparse stitches holding those wounds together tore open and blood flowed earnestly from them. And such emotional agony would not stand on the biggest night of his career. So he forced a smile onto his face and thoughts of a love he would likely never have again behind the barriers around his heart and knocked on the door to his mother’s room. 

However, he was not prepared to find her still clad in the lounging set Raven and he had bought her for Christmas, completely unprepared to attend the biggest night in Hollywood. 

“Ma, what’s wrong? We gotta leave soon. Why aren’t you dressed?” 

“Well I didn’t want to worry you while you were getting ready but I’m just not feeling well. I don’t think I can make it all evening. I’m sorry, baby.” 

Michael’s face fell ever so slightly at the disappointment, though he tried his hardest to hide it. It was not his mother’s fault that she was not feeling well and even he knew the rest of the day would be tiresome and exhausting for even those in good spirits. So he did not want her trying to suffer through on his account. However, he would not pretend that it did not sting, to know that he would not have anyone there to support him, hold his hand. That he would spend tonight… completely alone. 

Her renewed apologies made him fix his face immediately, knowing that she likely already felt badly for canceling on him. He had no interest in making her feel any worse. 

“I really am sorry, baby. But I wasn’t the date you wanted to take anyway,” she chuckled, her eyes filled with sympathy. 

Those makeshift barriers dissolved into nothing stronger than paper at her words. And as flimsy as they originally were, they were all he had to hold onto to get through tonight. 

“Don’t apologize, ma. Really no big deal at all. You should rest. And you know you’re always my favorite date. Besides, your love is the reason I’m here. You’ll always be my #1,” he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. When her eyes, unsurprisingly, filled with tears, Michael chuckled a bit. “Don’t cry on me. Alex will kill me for messin’ up this makeup.”  

She took a tissue and whisked away the pools of tears in her eyes before adjusting his bowtie.

“You know how proud I am of you? How lucky I am to be your mom? I thank God for you, your sister, and your brother every day. And all I’ve ever wanted for each of you is to live out your dreams and be happy. No matter what you do or who you’re with. Just that. Tonight you’re seeing God’s manifestation of your dreams and win or lose, I couldn’t be prouder of you. But even I know, only one person could make you truly happy tonight. That facade might fool the world but not me. I saw how happy she made you, Bakari. How she turned my scared little boy into a brave and vulnerable man without even trying. I may have gotten you here but her love and adoration and the love you have for her will keep you here. Will help you reach dreams I couldn’t even comprehend for you. And that’s a woman I’ll happily step into the #2 spot for any day.”

“Thanks ma… but I don’t think she wants that spot anymore… wants me anymore. Hell, I don’t even know where she is in the world.” The resigned smile on his face and the humorless laugh could not hide the depths of his sadness as he recalled the message he received from David letting him know that Raven boarded a flight to only God knows where. He had failed and even tonight could not take his mind off the 101 ways he failed the love of his life. “I screwed up. Gotta accept the consequences. I wanna be the man you raised and the man she thought she fell in love with. Even if I don’t get to be that for her.” 

“Give it time, Bakari. You know what I always reminded you three. Everything meant for you will come to you or find its way back to you. God never denies what he ordained as yours, sweetheart. Something to remember for more than one reason tonight.”

There was a certain mischievous glint in her eyes that did not match the typical motherly tone in her voice. “More than one reason” stuck out in his brain. 

What the fuck does that even mean? 

“What do you me-?” he started to ask when his mother cut him off. 

“Oh gosh, you know I didn’t even notice the time? You should go, dear. Don’t wanna get in trouble with that Alex, do we?” 

Realizing that it was almost showtime forced his confusion right out of his brain as he forced himself to focus on the moment, his moment. 

“Nah we don’t. She’s terrifyin’,” he admitted. “How about you lay down and rest for a while and Allen can take you home when you feel better? Or you can enjoy the suite for the night? Totally up to you.” 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll hang out here, let the traffic clear a bit then head to your sister’s. Everyone’s watching there. You look amazing. Can’t wait to see you shine tonight ” 

“Thanks, ma. Aight, I should head down to take pictures. Love you.”  

He squeezed her hand before she turned around and closed the door of her room behind her.  

He walked back to where his team was waiting. The lack of noise and hustle and bustle in the space caught him off guard as he expected to return to the same chaotic space with his team racing around him. However, only Alex stood waiting on him. 

“Where’d everybody go?” 

“Oh I sent them all downstairs. Figured you wouldn’t mind a couple minutes of peace before the longest night of your life.”  

And that was why, of everyone on his team, Alex was one of the few that stood the test of time. She knew him, truly knew him and what he needed. 

“Thanks.” He paused as he studied her. “You good?” 

Alex had been in the wings of every major career moment in Michael’s life and she typically brought an air of assurance and confidence that put Michael at ease. She was a staple calming force that kept his own anxiety in check. However, tonight? Everything about her seemed off, distracted and anxious in a way that made his empath sensors go haywire. She seemed utterly engrossed in her own phone, which was not unlike Alex but typically she cued Michael in, if nothing else. But tonight, she offered him no insight.  

“Yea… just a big night. Want to make sure everything’s perfect,” she muttered. “Come on… Jason says they’re ready for us.” 

Michael did not need to be the smartest person in the room to immediately recognize that she was hiding something from him. He knew he would never get it out of her as she was the world’s most secure vault for secrets. And there was a part of him that did not even want to know for fear that it would scare him into skipping the night altogether. What if she already found out that he lost? If anyone in his orbit was part of some dark Hollywood back channel, Alex would be it. Or something happened to Raven and she did not want him to lose his shit right before the event. Because they both knew he would drop all of this in a heartbeat for her. Foolish? Perhaps but that was how he knew he had found true love, his soul mate. Because nothing in this life was as important as her and he would drop all of it to rush to her side if she asked. But she would never ask, because she did not consider herself worthy of sacrifices, which only served as fuel to spend everyday proving to her that she was.

Why did he even try not to think of her? Somehow, every thought was merely the first step down a path that led right to Raven’s doorstep. 

He trailed slightly behind Alex as she led him to the elevator. However, before she hit the button, she stopped. 

“Oh shoot. I need to stop by my suite. Forgot somethin. It’s just down the hall, it’ll take two minutes. Got a gift for you for your big night. A little good luck charm.” 

“Alex, you know you didn’t need to get me shit.” And he truly meant that. He was just grateful to have Alex in his corner, her presence and commitment to his career was a gift in and of itself. “And send me the bill for your suite. Would’ve just gotten it for you.”

“Nah, it’s all good. It was last minute and I only got it for convenience, really.” She used her key to open the door and held it open so Michael could walk inside. 

However, as she opened the door, her usual resting bitch face (Alex’s words, not his) turned into a bright grin, one that she clearly tried desperately to minimize but couldn’t. And while Michael had expected flowers or a gift basket or even a bottle of his favorite rum, now he wondered if the gift was something far bigger than that. What he did not expect, when he turned the corner into her suite’s sitting area, was to find Raven awkwardly fidgeting with her gown as Jason made last-minute adjustments. 

“Wha…” His words died in his throat as she turned to face him, his stride stumbling backward in shock as he drank her in. 

He could have stood there and stared at her for the rest of the night and it would not have been enough time. Several lifetimes filled with millions of minutes and seconds would hardly scratch the surface of how much time he needed to simply consume her presence, to refill the parts of his soul that had depleted without her. 

Beautiful was a gross understatement for her. She was stunning, a goddess plucked from the heavens and placed among lesser men. Michael did not think he had ever laid eyes on a more radiant human being. But it was not her stunning beauty that caused tears to spring to his eyes. It was the look of renewed hope in hers, the smallest flame reignited after it had been utterly extinguished the last time he laid eyes on her. And fuck, that could’ve ended him right then and there. To see hope and light in her again, to see the Raven he had fallen so deeply for, she was all consuming. 

She had not even said a word yet but the impact of her choice to be there, to show up for him and choose him after everything conveyed a love words would not be sufficient enough to. The silence stretched on as he studied all the things that had made him fall in love. The soft expectant smile painted on her face as she stared at him that only solidified that she was willing and ready to rebuild with him. The anxious way her eyes glanced down at her own dress and her hands fidgeted that told him she was searching for his confirmation that he still wanted her here or that she looked beautiful, that reminded him of her awkwardness and endless humility that made him fall in love with her in the first place. The way her eyes, the most expressive aspect of her, somehow told him everything he needed to know without uttering a word. 

“I-I hope this is ok?” she asked quietly as she broke the silence and expectant tension that blanketed Alex’s suite, snapping Michael out of his speechless trance. “Admittedly, I only gave Alex and Jason like 24 hours notice. So our options were kind of limited b-but they said it would compliment yours a-and likely get me on a best dressed list, which d-doesn’t really matter but could be nice? I dunno though… think I’ve had enough publicity for a lifetime,” she laughed anxiously. “But I don’t know what’s appropriate to wear to the Oscars with the 2023 Best Actor and they do. But I know this probably isn’t what you envisioned when you invited me in January. But don’t blame them. It’s definitely my fault. Lost weight so my measurements weren’t quite right and the time thing. Honestly, give them a raise… well I can’t tell you what to do with your money. But you should…” she glanced over Michael’s shoulder at Alex who was staring at her with a look that simply said, ‘speed the reunion up, sis.’ So Raven cut herself off, her last rambling words falling off. “Consider it…” 

“You… you came?” 

“I heard you needed a date?” 

Michael rarely experienced true speechlessness, the right words rarely eluded him. He usually always knew what to say. His brain was on the verge of explosion with all the things he desperately wanted to say, his deepest proclamations of regret and love sat on his tongue but he just did not know where to start, could not find the place to start.

Meanwhile, Raven had an entire soliloquy of how she was ready to forgive and move forward because she loved him planned out in her mind. But every painstakingly chosen word evaporated from her mind as she looked at him, as she stared at the man her soul had come to recognize as her safest place to be. The one place that did not demand she provide her most perfect words or anything from her at all. It simply demanded, insisted, that she just be.

And now, the words that sprung to her mind were not perfect at all. They were raw, they were broken… they were her vulnerabilities, her fear, her pain, and they were her hope. Her wildest fantasies and her dreams. And she was no longer afraid to express them loudly here. Because he was the one place where she could. 

“You remember when I woke up in the hospital and the first thing I said to you was apologizing for not being the girl you wanted? For not being good enough? A-and you told me not to compare myself to h-her… or anyone else. B-”

“Because you’re one of a kind,” Michael finished simply.

“That was one of the nicest things a man… anyone had said to me in so long,” she admitted, her head bowing slightly. “And I didn’t believe it. I wanted to be loved by you so badly, Michael. B-But I couldn’t believe a man like you would ever think I was enough because I wasn’t enough for anyone. I wasn’t right for anyone. A-And I had internalized this narrative that I didn’t deserve love o-or to be happy. That I just deserved some second-rate, half life filled with disregard and pain because other people told me so. A-And when we s-started dating, I finally started to believe that all that hope had been worth something? That maybe I deserved something… better? A-And w-when I saw her, my heart immediately felt like… you were finally admitting it. I wasn’t enough for you either.”

Every punch and injury he sustained playing Adonis Creed paled in comparison to that. He did not know if it was possible to feel worse about what he had done.

“Rae… baby, you gotta know that-“ 

She held up her hand to stop him, Michael immediately falling silent. 

“I know… at the time though? It felt like God confirming everything everyone w-who knew me ever said, t-the fuel for that voice in my head that told me I would never b-be enough, w-was right. And all the ways you showed me I was enough, all the ways you showed up for me… didn’t seem real anymore. And that broke me. So I left, gave you the out I thought everyone who knew me wanted. T-this nuisance out of their lives. But you… you didn’t leave.”

Michael could hear the pure perplexity in her voice, as if the competing voices in her head could not square why he kept reaching out, kept showing up even as she pushed him away. 

“Because I love you.”

“Because you love me.” Raven repeated it but Michael could hear it, the recognition that his words were the truth.

“I… um. I don’t believe I deserve you,” Raven said simply. “But for the first time, I know that I want more than whatever life in the shadows I thought I had to have. I know that I don’t want to push away love a-and happiness anymore. A-and I don’t want to push you away anymore. B-Because you are love, safety, comfort… happiness. I want to believe I deserve better? I want… to believe I deserve you. Because when I’m with you…” 

Raven let out a shaky exhale that felt like her body starting to expel all those tormenting thoughts she internalized as she finally admitted out loud that this love was everything she always wanted. 

“When I’m with you, all I feel is joy. A joy so pure that only something hand crafted by God himself could feel so good. You’re every fantasy I dreamed of but never thought I could have. Since the moment I fell off that damn table like a clumsy fucking idiot, you’ve been my safest place, you’ve been home, and you’ve been one of the few people in my life who’ve loved me unapologetically and loudly.” 

She finally closed the space between them, putting herself within arm’s length of him. 

“And I owe you an apology for… letting my exhaustion and pent up pain blind me to all the ways you’ve loved me loudly since the day we met. Regardless of how tired a-and exhausted I am from falling and crashing into the rocks, you were always worth climbing back up that mountain. You were always worth a second chance. And I should’ve recognized that far earlier.”

A pressure valve Michael did not even know had formed in his body released at her words. It felt like being able to take a deep breath again.

“So I’m here and I’m still hurt a-and exhausted but I’m ready to do something different, ready to run toward the cliff and take the leap and fall again. And I want to do that with you… If I’m not too late?” 

Michael did not even command his legs to move as her confirmation hit his ears. Before either of them could utter another word, she was in his arms. A sweet giggle erupted as he pulled her unexpectedly toward him and crashed his lips against hers. And the peace that brought was unparalleled. 

Raven could have melted against him, her soul at ease for the first time in too long as he held her tightly. 

The rest of their small audience melted away as their hearts and souls sought to reclaim their other half, their kiss spelling out every ache and pain their brief separation caused. His lips felt so familiar, so much like home, that it almost hurt. Every second in his arms felt as if it mended the fissures of Raven’s heart one by one, stitching her back together intentionally and with such care that it made her want to sob. 

Her own foolishness baffled her. How could she have denied herself this? This ethereal, otherworldly type of love. She would never find something comparable with another living soul. Because this insanely perfect man in front of her was it for her. She had never had a real family but in his arms, she could see one and it was everything she had ever dreamed for herself. The emotions of finally accepting, even in objective disbelief, his love for her hit her in waves that gently crashed over her one by one. But she was not overwhelmed like before, drowning beneath them as she fought for air. 

This was serenity, gentle waves blanketing her in warmth and care. Such care that it was painful to pull away to catch her own breath. 

Was breathing really a necessity right now?? She demanded of herself as his touch set off heat and flames of desire as he touched her. Weeks and weeks of deprivation meant she needed this more than she could describe, needed the physical representation of his love. His touch, his kiss, his devotion to her needs.  

She did not even look away from him but her next words were for the pair awkwardly lingering in the room, long forgotten.  

“We need 10 minutes.” 

Alex groaned, breaking the sexual tension in the room with her annoyance, though she acquiesced far faster than Raven expected. Though she suspected his longtime agent could see a losing battle from a mile away. 

“Fine but you really only get 10 minutes. Fuckin’ Oscars not a goddamn industry party. Can’t just roll in whenever we feel like it. And I swear to God… if you fuck on my bed or fuck up your outfits and make up, I’ll spend the rest of my life breaking you two up again.” 

And with that, she grabbed Jason by his sleeve and marched out of the suite, leaving the two of them alone. Raven did not even wait for the click of the door to launch herself back into his arms, her fingers working faster than her mind could direct to undress him. 

If anyone could see them, she imagined their movements were feral, so frenzied with their carnal instincts that it looked purely chaotic. Raven’s dress was in a crumble at her feet, his suit jacket was somewhere Raven could not even see. Her fingers rushed to undo the buttons of his shirt before abandoning the task for his pants. 

“Fuck, why are there so many buttons??” She came up for air long enough to moan in frustration as Alex’s warning rang out in her head. 

Only ten minutes. How was that enough time? That was not even a fraction of the time she required to do all the things her brain demanded she do to feel all of him and ensure he felt all of her too. 

“Fuck I missed you,” he uttered between kisses as he tried to take her incredibly tight but effective spanx off. 

She prayed Alex’s threat was a joke because she did not need a mirror to know her makeup would indeed need more than a light retouch. His kisses were unyielding, sloppy and utterly unrestrained. Their need for each other simply fed off the others and she knew neither would be satiated in ten minutes.

We need to stop, she thought. It was the biggest night of his career. She should stop so he could focus on that, right? 

But she couldn’t, didn’t want to. 

“I need you,” she whimpered, her desire to be filled far louder than the time clock in her head. 

And her voice was so needy that Michael, whose self-control was hanging by a thread, almost gave in. 

The only thing that gave him the strength to stop them before neither of them would be able to stop was the knowledge that she deserved more than a 10-minute quickie. She deserved to be devoured with every ounce of his being devoted to and focused on her. No interruptions, no distractions. She was a goddess to be worshiped with every stroke in her heat and that was not a process that could be rushed.  

“Baby, baby, baby,” he gently cradled her neck, forcing her to slow down and look at him. His resolve was tested at the lust in her eyes, how her entire body was suddenly flushed with heat. “Fuck…” the words were agony to push out but necessary. “I want you so bad. But not like this.” 

Raven, still a work in progress, could not stop the immediate intrusive thought that he did not want her, that she had misread everything. Michael could see it, how her eyes flashed with that fear and insecurity. He would never not want her, he would happily remind her of that every day if necessary. But he knew himself too well. Once he found himself trapped inside her, he would not be able to stop himself. And he wanted to take his time. 

“It’s not you. It’s never you,” he brushed her hair behind her ear. “I just… I want more for this than a 10-minute quickie in a hotel room that isn’t even ours. You deserve more.” 

Her heart swelled at his words, realizing that he was not even thinking about the clock. He was merely thinking about her. That forced her to calm down a bit, her lust still red hot and flowing but the logical part of her brain was taking control again. 

The slight pout on her face made him chuckle and pull her in for another kiss. It was deeper and more sensual, a quiet plea to trust that he would always give her what she needed. Even if not in the exact timing her body desired it. 

“Every moment with you counts and I’m not lettin’ anymore pass that I don’t treat you like you deserve. Trust me, I’ll give you what you need, baby girl. It’ll be worth the wait.” 

Raven knew he was right. Despite the persistent ache in her core, she knew she could wait for what he planned. It would be far better than a rushed reunion on a couch anyway.

“I trust you. Just make sure your team knows to clear your very packed schedule for the next couple days,” she teased as she stole one last kiss before she tried to put some distance between them. Her body still wanted him desperately and while she trusted him, she was not sure she trusted herself. 

But Michael merely pulled her back in and held onto her tighter. 

“Oh the world ain’t gon’ see me or you for more than a couple days. I’m all yours.” He winked at her before helping her get her dress back on and his own suit back on. Once he opened the door to let Alex back in, both of them looked exactly as the two had left them, not a hair out of place. Save Raven’s lipstick, which was completely gone. 

“Damn… three minutes? Knew you couldn’t be worth the hype,” Alex immediately said as she breezed back into the suite, utterly unbothered by the idea that the two might have fucked just moments prior. 

“You always got jokes.” 

Alex immediately fired off last-minute directions to the makeup team to fix Raven’s before they prepared for photos and to leave.  Though Raven had endured the tedious process of getting ready for awards and premieres  before, today was the most hectic yet. But she was not panicked because she stuck close to Michael, who was the picture of ease and calm. He was the eye of this hurricane, the small world that was him purely at ease even when he should not be. 

“You nervous?” she asked as the photographer directed her to perch on Michael’s knee before going to switch out the lens on his camera.  

He offered her the most sincere smile, his eyes glimmering with all the love and adoration he felt toward her. 

“Nah. Why would I be? I already got the most important thing I needed today. Tonight’ll just be a cherry on top.” 

***

Raven was beginning to wonder if her return had turned Michael’s hands into magnets. He barely let her go since they walked out of Alex’s suite. She could not help but laugh when Michael only allowed the photographer two minutes of individual photos before he pulled Raven back into his arms. It was not as if she minded one bit, she had so missed this, missed his touch. It was addicting. 

“You stare at me any harder, I’m gonna combust,” she joked as they sat in the back of his limo, Raven leaning into his side as she had done so many times before. . 

“My bad, my bad. I’m just fuckin’ shocked you’re here.” He weaved his fingers among hers, bringing her hand into his lips. “You know I’m gonna spend everyday making all this shit up to you, right?” 

“I know and I also know it’s unnecessary. I won’t lie, I’m still hurt and confused by what happened. But I know we can fix it. I don’t need you to feel guilty for the rest of our relationship either.”  

“The rest of our lives,” he softly corrected with a playful shove to her shoulder that made her giggle. Fuck he missed that sound, missed her smile.

“The rest of our lives,” she repeated. “I just need you to love me. That’s it.” 

“That’s a given, baby girl.” 

She leaned over and pecked him softly on the lips before settling back in his arms. 

“So… Can I read your speech?” she asked sweetly, knowing there was a terribly crumbled piece of paper stuffed into his jacket pocket. 

“Nope.” 

Raven immediately pouted, putting on the playful sad puppy eyes that always got to him. 

“Those ain’t gon’ work today, baby. But only cause I can’t show you a speech I don’t have.” 

Raven’s eyebrows creased in confusion, immediately assuming that his lack of a prepared speech meant he did not think he would win. How could he think such a thing? 

“Michael… You know you’re gonna win. And you’ve scripted all the others. Why didn’t you write one for tonight? I can jot you something down real quick?” she immediately started to look around as if her cell-phone-sized clutch was big enough to secretly contain a pen and paper. “Allen!” She leaned toward the front. “Do you have any paper? Spare receipt?” 

“Baby, BABY!” Michael called, gripping her hips to guide her back to her seat and calm her panic. “I didn’t say I didn’t write one,” he clarified. “I said I don’t have it. I just realized that… the scripted speeches are not what I want tonight. Need a different direction. So I gave the speech to Alex before we left.” 

Though Raven could guess the reason for a sudden need for a new direction in the 11th hour. But she still found herself asking anyway. “Any reason for this different direction?” 

“Just think I should speak from the heart if I win, you know? Like I did in that interview. If I get to go on that stage tonight, wanna do it as the man I’ve become. Dunno if I have your way with words, though. Not nervous about losing but I’m nervous about fuckin’ up up there, not sayin’ the right thing, you know? Or everyone hating it?” 

Raven’s eyes softened a bit, always appreciating this vulnerable side of him. She knew how difficult and painful it had been to reveal that side to her and to the world. But she knew he was better for it. 

“You don’t need my way with words, baby. You just need yours and yours is poetic, it’s kind a-and loving and true. That isn’t a new direction o-or a new man, Michael. It’s just you. Every moment I’ve known you, that’s just you. You just let me see it and I’m so grateful for it. And you’ve let the world see glimpses of it in the last few months a-and if the response is any indication, the world is grateful too. You’re not nervous about saying the wrong thing. Going out there without the armor you’ve built to protect yourself is just scary. But it’s worth it. You taught me that. Don’t think about the right or wrong words. Just what you want to say about this moment. Whatever words you have will be right.” 

“Feel like you got more poetic on me since January.” 

Raven chuckled and shook her head. “Still only minimally poetic… and I can’t take credit for that one.” But she stopped herself before she said more. Now did not feel like the best moment to drop emotional bombs. 

“We’re here, Mr. Jordan. About three cars in front of us,” Allen called out from the front seat. 

He glanced at Raven, her eyes suddenly swimming with panic that he could tell she desperately wanted to swallow. He could almost see the realization hit her like a wall. She was about to walk out into the public eye for the first time in months at Hollywood’s most significant night of the year. And Michaell had been so elated to have her back that he had not considered how emotionally overwhelming that had to be. 

Raven was determined to hide it as best and long as she could. Tonight was all about Michael and his career. And she had accepted being in the public eye when she decided to go back to him. She knew it would be difficult but he was worth it. They were worth the sacrifice. But her brain assaulted her with every possible name she would be called, the headlines that would materialize tomorrow. And all of that would reflect poorly on him. What if she ruined his life… again?

“Hey, hey, Rae. Baby girl. Look at me,” his hands gently framed her face to force her eyes to him. “Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me, aight? Tonight’s ours. The first night of the rest of our lives, showing up 100% in our truth. None of this other shit matters. So just focus on me. I won’t let you go, I promise.” 

“Just you and me,” she repeated, nodding slightly. 

And with that, he opened the limo door, standing tall as crowds shouted his name and the chaotic sounds of the carpet filled their ears. 

First night of the rest of our lives. And she was ready. 

***

Though she had not been to many award shows with Michael thus far, she learned one key thing. They were just as boring as they looked on tv except when you were the date of a popular nominee, you did not have the luxury of letting that boredom show. 

Will my jaw ever recover, she wondered as it ached from smiling through three hours of devastatingly mediocre jokes and long-winded speeches. At least the carpet was exciting and thrilling, as daunting as it was. In fact, the carpet was actually fun for the first time.

The chaotic jungle was its usual frantic chaotic place, not any different than she expected. But perhaps it merely felt different because she and Michael were so different from who they were the last time they were out together. They had stripped themselves bare and had shed their armor. They were standing decidedly in their truth and the immense love they shared. And that felt like a new world.

And she noticed so much more than her self-pitied colored glasses allowed her to see. Every protective touch, every studious glance to ensure she was still smiling and well, the well-timed playful remarks or jokes he whispered in her ear right when her nerves started to encroach, every gentle kiss that still held his endless passion for her. She finally saw it all and felt it. And it was everything. 

Michael straightened up next to her, pulling Raven out of her own daydreams. Robert Downey Jr. made his way to the middle of the stage, an envelope labeled Best Actor printed boldly across it. 

She tightened her grip on Michael’s hand. She had a good feeling about this. 

“A leading man is more than an attractive face, though I’m sure every woman would agree that all five men in this category have that quality in common as well. But what they also have in common is vulnerability, empathy, and the courage to search for the humanity and depth of their characters to embody their wants, their fears, their grief, their sorrow boldly and bravely. These five performances are exemplary and remind us all just what a leading man is. Here are the nominees for Best Actor in a Motion Picture.” 

The room dimmed ever so slightly as the reel started to play, the seconds that passed felt more like hours as they watched snippets of each performance. Michael’s was last, Raven’s free hand gently rubbing his arm as she felt his nerves finally kick in. She was impressed he only felt them now, she would have been an utter mess all evening.

“And the winner is…” the Marvel actor did a little fist pump that immediately gave the winner away, deafening applause almost drowning out his name. “Michael B. Jordan, Waves.” 

Michael’s head fell into his hand for a moment, genuine shock coursing through him. He had convinced himself that he would not win to minimize the disappointment. But he had not really considered how it would feel to actually win? To actually receive this honor. And it was more than he could have hoped it would be. 

Raven pulled him into her arms as they stood, tears swimming in her eyes. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered before he kissed her. 

He honestly would have been fine to simply revel in this moment in her arms but he knew the clock was ticking on his speech.

He finally let her go and jogged up the stairs, giving RDJ a hug before stepping in front of the mic. The entire theater was still on their feet applauding and cheering as he stared out into the crowd. 

“Wow. Thank you so much for this. As a kid from New Jersey, you just don't really ever expect your dreams to take off like this, to end up in a place like this. This is just… more than I could’ve ever dreamed for myself. So thank you. There are a million people for me to thank and not enough time before they play me off. My family and friends, my team and manager, the cast and crew who poured their hearts and souls into this film… Without all of you, I wouldn’t have made it here tonight and I’m grateful for your constant support.” 

He glanced down at the trophy in his hand before continuing. “Umm… But there’s one person I do want to thank though and that is the love of my life, Raven Turner. When I look at you, all I can think of is how rewarding it is to be loved by you, to be chosen by you. That makes every day feel like I’ve just won an Oscar. I feel so blessed to be given the opportunity to love you, to stand in your light, and to live everyday working to be the man worthy of your love. Getting to share this moment with you goes beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Thank you for seeing me for all that I am and loving me for it. Thank you for falling with me, baby and I hope I make every day of our lives together worth it.” 

She knew that the tears that streamed down her face were not attractive or good for the camera that was surely about to pan to her but she could not have hoped to care. 

“I love you,” she mouthed though she doubted he could even see her from up there. 

“I love you. Thank you!” He held the statue up in his hand before turning and walking off stage, his standing ovation renewing. 

***

Michael wanted to laugh at how Raven stretched her body like an adorable kitten after sleeping like the literal dead for most of the daylight hours. He did not blame her, they did not stumble back into his house until after 4 am. Once the show ended, the pair bounced from after party to after party drinking, smoking, and dancing the night away. He had not had that much fun at industry events and parties in so long. And it had been so much fun that he was *almost* sad it was over, a perfect final night of an insane run in his career. 

But then he remembered that closing that chapter meant he could focus his attention on the perfect and hopelessly exhausted woman rousing in his arms. They could heal without the distractions of events and the public eye. They could build their lives together officially. The joy of that instinctively caused him to pull her into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. 

“Mornin’ baby,” he whispered, his gruff voice filling her ears as Raven slowly opened her eyes.  

Peace and contentment gently glided through her frame like a light summer’s breeze, easing all the aches and pains she had felt before. She had missed this… falling asleep snuggled in his arms, wrapped lovingly and tightly in his scent. She would have been inclined not to move until she caught a glimpse of the time on his iPad. 

She let out a soft gasp as she tried to shoot up, shocked at how late she slept. However, his tight grip stopped her from lifting much beyond her head and chest. 

“You gotta let me go, baby. We should get up. It’s almost 3 pm… sorry, don’t even know how I slept that fucking late. I know you got shit to do.” 

“We had a late night and there ain’t shit to do today. And if there had been, I would’ve told you. Rest.” 

She used the back of her hand to rub her eyes as she glanced at him, studying how his eyes returned to a script on his iPad that was highlighted to death. She merely rolled her eyes. Of course he would be working right after the biggest night of his career. 

“How long have you been up?” 

“Since 11 or so?” he shrugged. “Figured I’d relax and read some scripts my team pulled for Outliers. Been so crazy, they’ve just been piling up. Grabbed a snack bout an hour ago and made you some tea but it’s definitely cold. I can make you more if you want.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me??” 

He merely shrugged with his unbothered charm, his hand gently rubbing her back, which lulled her into laying her head down on his chest again despite her brain’s alarm bells to get up.

How am I so tired?? She wondered as her eyes threatened to fall shut again. All her body wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms.  

“When you didn’t even move when I got up, it seemed like you needed the rest. And still do.”  

“I’m good.” 

“Those bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

“I know you ain’t talking…” she offered back, glancing pointedly at the equally stark dark circles under his eyes. 

“Touche. But no actor gets enough sleep. Early call times, global press tours, events and after parties. It’s the name of the game. You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” His annotation was that of a question but they both knew the answer. “How much sleep you been getting since we-” Michael stopped himself, the words he held back still hanging heavily in the air. There was still so much they still had to discuss, wounds that were still unhealed and unresolved. 

While Michael thought Raven was always stunning, he could not ignore the obvious toll the events of late had taken on his girl. He thought it had just been emotional but he had not seen her long enough to notice the physical strain his actions had caused too. And while she had told him not to feel guilty, he did. So he was not going to wake her up or bother her when it was clear she required a reset. And while he would always adore her for rallying for him last night, today was a new day. And she deserved to be catered to and have someone take care of her for a change. 

“Couple hours a night… Between the break up and the paparazzi during the first couple weeks… and then all the shit on social media, I was just on edge 24/7, my brain couldn’t shut off long enough to sleep… or sleep well. I had some old sleeping pills I used some nights when I was desperate but… it was hard not to think about everything over and over and over again. And then wallow in it.” 

“You stopped eating too? You lost weight.” 

Raven chuckled. “You know most men wouldn’t have a problem with their girlfriend losing a couple pounds. Wasn’t like I didn’t need to.” 

“You’re fuckin’ sexy at any weight but I gotta problem with anything that means you ain’t taking care of yourself. Especially when it’s my fault.” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose and it’s no one’s fault. I just… didn’t really have an appetite a lot. But that’s starting to come back. I’m fine, Michael. Truly. We’re still celebrating you, can’t end that early just to fuss over little ole me.” 

Michael knew she wanted him to pretend he believed her for the sake of not discussing this right now. But what was the point in that? He would not pretend he had not been terrified for her. That he was not still terrified at how all of this had worn her down. And he knew it was not just what he did, it had just been the final straw in a life-long list of painful experiences. But one thing Raven had always had when he looked at her was hope, even if the flame was as small as a dying candle. There was always an air about her that let him know she genuinely believed things would get better one day. 

But when he saw her at her apartment, the night at that bar? That was gone, completely extinguished. Her eyes, his favorite part of her, held nothing but sorrow. He would not be able to live with himself if he ever saw that look in her eyes again. 

“You aren’t fine, Rae. I know that shit. And I’m allowed to worry about you. I mean shit, how you looked after that video was bad enough. Then the bar?? Not gon’ forget that shit happened just cause we’re back together. And I’m not gon’ pretend you’re fine when you aren’t either. You’re not gonna keep sweeping your needs under the rug. We can lay here all day and sleep if that’s what you need.”

“You have better things to do, Mr. Academy Award Winner then watch me sleep. I can take care of myself.” 

“What if I like watching you sleep??” 

“Then that would be kinda endearing and… kinda creepy?” she mused. “But mostly endearing.” Not that she would ever admit it but she enjoyed watching him sleep too. 

“Well I might be creepy then,” he admitted. He did genuinely love watching her sleep, when she was in his arms, there was just a rare peace about her that he loved to see. “The outside world has gotten too much of me lately. Now, the only thing I wanna do is take care of you. Not cause you can’t do that shit yourself but because you shouldn’t have to. Everyone needs to be taken care of and I’m not letting the next 30 years go by without you knowing what that feels like. Now you’re gonna feel it. Every single day. Rest, Raven.”

His words tumbled through her brain as she stared at him for a moment, her eyes brimming with tears. She was exhausted and not just physically. But of carrying the weight of every problem on her shoulders, of being alone in crafting solutions. She was so often consumed by pure survival and it had made her resourceful and smart. There was not a problem that life threw at her that Raven had not figured out a way through. She was stuck in survivor mode 24/7. But the problem with survival is that it was an all-consuming task. There’s no opportunity… no room to rest. And no one to take on the burdens for her so she could. 

“I just haven’t h-had anyone… who cared enough to worry… in a long time, no one willing to share the load,” she offered simply, sniffling lightly. “Until you hired David… I didn’t think you cared what happened to me after we… I ended things.” 

“I did. I do.” His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb whisking away the tears that slowly fell. “Fuck, I thought about you every minute of the damn day, Rae. You had me over here losing my damn mind. I care… I love you so much, it fucking killed me. And scared me. And I deserved it, to worry and stress and flip shit because I fucked up… I hurt you.”

“You did. But it wasn’t just you. Life’s been shit before and I could always, you know, keep going? It was just the final blow to the little bit of hope I had? And I just didn’t see the point in getting back up again. That was my best… the bare minimum needed to keep breathing. The heartache… I knew I could get over that eventually. One day in the far fucking future, I could… would force myself to get over you. Or just accept that I could never have you. It was the ache of losing hope that killed me. It was like my soul ached? And there were moments, like the night of your premiere, that I just thought that would never heal?” 

“So you got wasted? To forget?” 

She chuckled. “Alcohol is a great temporary solution. When you’re that low… shit gets desperate,” she admitted. “Anything to numb the pain for a short while. But it always comes back.” 

“How often?” 

“Rarely and that was the worst night, I promise. Honestly, wasn’t sure I’d ever want to touch alcohol again after that.”  

“And now? How do you feel?” 

“The wounds in my heart still need mending but every second back with you has healed parts of my soul. I’m… not ok,” she admitted, Michael immediately empathizing with how difficult it was for her to say those words. “You’re right… it doesn’t just go away. But I will be ok.” 

He nodded. “I know you will be. I’m gonna make sure of it. Raven… look, I know this shit is scary, giving up control when you’ve been the one driving for so long, the one responsible for everything for so long. But I’m here, I’m not going anywhere and I’m not gonna let go again. It’s safe to let someone else behind the wheel for a while. Rest for me, baby girl. Please. 

As if she was light as a feather, he shifted her so her body laid on top of his chest, his strong arms anchoring her in that spot. She buried her face in the nape of his neck, breathing in the perfect scent that her heart recognized as him. 

Even as her body resumed its pliant posture in his arms, Raven realized she did not want rest. No, she wanted to feel him in the very depths of her. She knew they had to talk, knew there were conversations to be had. But fuck, she could not wait. She wanted to revel in this moment, of finally being with someone who genuinely loved her and cared. And she needed to feel it on a cellular level. 

Raven forced herself to sit up, quickly straddling his hips and giving him a quick but tantalizing grind against him. That turned his frown into a mischievous grin, though she could still see the concern in his eyes. 

“This is the opposite of rest, baby girl.” 

“I’ll rest as long as you want after. I need you.” 

“We still got a lot to talk about, Rae. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the moment ‘n not really want this yet. ‘N I…” Raven should have been put off the pure animalistic look simmering in his eyes. But instead it just made the desire grow stronger, long tentacles stretching out to every pleasure zone in her body. Demanding he touch, bite, slap, caress… literally do anything to satiate her. “I’m not sure what you need, what we both need.”  

Her palms cupped his face, guiding his eyes to hers. “Then don’t be sure. I love that you take care of me, Michael. But taking care of me isn’t having the perfect thing to say or do for me. Sometimes, it’s just being you and figuring it out as we go. I know I need you. And that’s what I want, to feel every part of you… whatever you have to give me. And everything we need to talk about will still be here when you’re done with me.”

And with her permission, the reins holding him back evaporated and he pounced. Raven was on her back before she could blink, Michael capturing her lips, reminding her of the dominance she missed. And desperately craved it.  

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he whispered in her ear.

“Everything. All of you.” 

Michael would happily oblige. He licked his lips as he stared down at her. Where would he even start? 

Some part of him wanted to render her utterly immobile as he usually did. But a more significant part of him just wanted to savor her. Wanted to feel everything she had to offer and bask in having her back with him. And while he loved the fast-paced dominant sex they were used to, it did not always allow for that. And he knew in his heart that they both needed more than fast and furious today.

His hands gently ran up the smooth skin of her thighs, gathering the oversized t-shirt on her frame in his hands and sliding it off. Her nipples pebbled slightly at the cold air against her warm skin. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You know that shit right?” he asked as he pressed soft kisses against her neck. 

“Y-yes,” she whispered, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot before moving down to her collarbone. 

“You know how much I love you? What I’d do for you?” he continued a slow but intentional path down her body, lingering on her chest as he engulfed each of her nipples between his lips. He took his time there, remembering how much she enjoyed nipple play. His mind called back to the numerous times he put clamps on them. His tongue licked her nipples, Raven whimpering and squirming beneath his hot mouth.

Soon, they would reacquaint themselves with those roles, he thought. If she was up for it.

Her body was ablaze as his lips and tongue found their home on every inch of her skin he could get to. Down he trekked, only slowing when he got to the paradise between her thighs. He knew her inner thighs were a weak spot, something he learned long long ago. He knew it was the teasing that got to her, being so close to where she needed pleasure the most but not exactly there yet. 

“Fuck I missed this,” he whispered. “Those little moans you make, how I make you squirm and beg and plead. The taste of you on my tongue.” 

“Michael… please,” she whimpered. “I need…” the words were lost on her, her brain was no longer in the decision-making business. Her body, the pleasure sensors that lived beneath the surface of her skin guided every feeling, every filthy thought, every base desire and need. “C-Can’t wait.” 

He lifted his head from between her thighs, his breath teasing her core with heat that turned her into putty in his hands. She could not wait, she needed to be connected to him. To feel their bodies become one again in the most intimate and carnal way. 

“You trust me, baby?” 

“With my life,” she answered truthfully. 

While his actions had shaken that trust, when it boiled down to it, she would never trust her body with anyone as she did with Michael. She was his and he had never harmed her or made her regret handing over the reins to her pleasure to him. He had proven himself worthy of it tenfold. 

“Then trust that Imma take care of you, princess. Always.” 

Princess… fuck was it possible for her heart to literally explode? Or for her to be anymore wet than she already was? 

His poor sheets, she mused. 

He resituated her legs on his shoulders and grinned up at her as he continued nipping at her inner thighs, Raven’s soft moans only spurring him on. She was already a mess… a delicious, delectable mess to be sure, her juices glistening and begging him to lick, suck… devour her. 

“Fuck… all this for me, baby?” he smiled as his kisses and bites grew closer and closer to where she desired, where she needed his touch the most. 

“Y-yes…” Her body had missed him more than she realized. 

“I missed you.” And with that short statement, devour her, he did. 

Bliss. 

Ecstasy. 

Fucking nirvana. 

He made her feel all of it with one masterful flick of his tongue against her bud, her back arching off his mattress and a guttural moan rising from her belly. He proved within minutes that he had not forgotten, forgotten what buttons to push, what spots to focus his attention, how she liked to be pleasured. 

He did not let up or come up for air as  his mouth savored every inch of her that he could, spelling out his adoration and love for her - not with his words - but with his tongue and his two fingers buried in her heat. There was a sensual pace to it that she was not used to with him. Typically, sex was deliciously punishing and unyielding. It was rooted in his care and gentleness for her but the pace left no time to breathe. Not that she minded. 

But today? He took particular care, the march up to her peak was tantalizingly slow but perfect all the same. There was no rush between them, despite Raven’s original desire to fit almost 2 months of lost time into this one moment. But Michael understood that they had time. There was no invisible clock, nothing rushing them. He could savor the little gasps of pleasure when he sucked her clit gently, the way her legs clamped around his head when she was close, how her pussy clenched around his fingers as he increased his speed to exactly where she liked, how her hips rocked to meet every thrust. 

Every plea, every moan, every scream for more. He wanted to hear all of it. And he wanted her to savor the feeling of being taken care of, because she would need to learn to get used to it. He could do this every day, more than once a day to be honest. 

“So… close,” her moans grew louder and louder as he took her to the edge of the cliff of pleasure. 

She allowed herself to fall as she felt the pleasure in her belly snap. Her mouth simply remained agape with a breathless scream on her lips as she fell into the depths of ecstasy. The crash didn’t feel like one at all, but a soft landing as he continued his ministrations against her clit, drawing out her orgasm for as long as he could. And it was pure bliss, warm waves of pleasure continuing to crash over her until he finally extracted himself from between her legs. 

“That was…” Being at a loss for words was commonplace when they fucked. But Michael understood as he pressed his lips to hers, allowing her to taste herself briefly. 

“Fuck!” she cried out as he immediately started to sheathe himself inside her, a welcomed surprise. She tried to hide it as her face screwed for a split second, her body becoming reacquainted with his girth and size. The stretch he provided today in particular, given their stint apart, was a short-lived sting of pain that managed to take her breath away. 

He immediately stilled. 

“Talk to me, Rae. You good?” 

Her eyes were still shut tight as she waited for a moment for her to get used to him again. So she merely nodded. 

“Words, baby.” 

“Y-Yea I’m good. J-just been a minute a-and you surprised me.” She let out a content sigh as pain gave way to mind numbing pleasure, giving him the directive to move. “A-and t-that’s not… fair,” she moaned. “W-wanted… to taste… you too.” She wanted to force her lips into a playful pout but the only facial expressions her muscles could conjure up were those of passion and pleasure. 

“Next time, princess.” He sucked on the soft skin of her neck as he drove into her. 

Raven could only see the darkness of the back of her head as her eyes rolled back with every rock forward of his hips, sending his dick right into her g-spot. His thrusts were relentless, Raven’s nails digging into his back as she held onto him for dear life. 

“Fuck… I-I love you,” she panted, unable to form any other real sentences worth anything. That was all that needed to be said in her mind. 

“Say it again,” he demanded, gently biting her neck as her declaration of love only spurred him on. He grabbed her legs and pulled her ankles to his shoulders. 

“I love… FUCK! Fuckkkkk, j-just like that!” She cried out, abandoning the words originally on her lips for completely incoherent ramblings of a woman who was being split into two but loved every single second of it. 

Did he just kill me?? Am I dead?? Because this no longer felt of this world? No human being should be allowed to experience this sort of pleasure. Or be able to give it… was the man above her even human? 

“You feel so good, baby. You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” 

Stopping?? An utterly foreign concept to him at that moment. And he did not. Raven barely could breath as Michael moved her into position after position, fucking her into oblivion. 

Tears sprang to her eyes as he fucked her from behind, his teeth biting gently into the skin of her neck.

“Where you want it, princess??” he demanded as he felt himself getting close. 

“Cum inside me,” she gasped, not wanting their union to end any sooner than it needed to. This was as close as they could get and for some part of her, it still was not close enough. 

More, more, more, her soul seemed to demand. More of him. 

“Don’t say that shit to me if you don’t mean it?” he warned, those few words causing a fever to settle over him, his hips snapping forward into her ass with a force that jolted her further into his mattress. 

“Please, baby,” she whined desperately, unable to find any other words to assure him that was what she wanted. 

Euphoric was the only word that came to mind as he pulled her flush to his chest and emptied his cum inside her. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she panted, her pussy clenching around him as he pumped in and out of her slowly.

Michael gently let her body fall into the mattress, Raven’s eyes already starting to flutter closed as he went to grab a warm towel. Another whimper escaped her lips as he cleaned her up. 

“That was… whew. I missed you.”

Michael did not bother putting his own clothes back on but instead slid into bed with her, cuddling her body against his. 

Of course now, sleep was not something Rave could avoid, her body spent as it always was after their time together. 

“ Give me an hour and then my legs will work again. And then I’m taking over,” she muttered as she yawned. 

He merely laughed and nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“Wouldn’t bet on it. I only made you cum four times.” 

Raven lifted her head to look at him incrediously. “Only four??? I can’t feel my legs, babe.” Her jaw dropped at the slight frown creasing his lips. “Oh my God… you’re actually upset,” she laughed. “You’re insane.” 

“I have a reputation to uphold, babe. Six minimum every time.” 

“If you wanna kill me, just say so,” she joked.

“Just tryin’ to put you to sleep without a fight,” he offered with a smile. “I give it five minutes before you’re out like a light.” 

“Very mischievous but effective.” 

Raven did not understand how she could even require more sleep, even after a palty (as Michael would complain) four orgasms. But he had accomplished his goal, her entire body was boneless and pliant in his hands. Everything in her told her she was finally home and safe to let go of everything else for the first time in her life. So she welcomed the coming rest, allowing her eyes to drift closed. However, before she fully gave in, she whispered. 

“You should rest too… you’ve been going and going since the top of the year. You’ve earned it too.” 

“Deal.” 

The life of an actor was defined by sleep deprivation so Michael had learned the important trait of falling asleep literally anywhere and anytime. Because his body was on his press tour schedule, he had felt wide awake after a few hours of rest this morning. But he knew if he closed his eyes for 5 minutes, he would pass out again. 

“I love you,” he offered quietly as he shifted them both so he was laying down again. 

“Not as much… as I love you,” she mumbled back as her eyes fluttered closed.

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @majesticbrown @roguekiki @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154 @munchsa

***

A/N: Whew ok y'all do not know how much I agonized over this chapter LOL but our babies are backkkkkk and we have maybe two chapters left and an epilogue. Thanks so much for sticking by my slow writing ass. Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[eiswolfzero]

I keep thinking about Desmond always being on edge. Always in Survival Mode.

He could never relax on the Farm, his Dad always breathing down his neck. Get better. Be better. Do better.

And then, Desmond ran away. And he always had to look over his shoulder. Always had to be a step ahead of the Templars and Assassins (a great feat btw)

And then Abstergo got him and I can't imagine him relaxing in that environment. Only to be plucked out of that space and be back with the Assassins, back in the Animus.

With people he didn't know, who wanted to work and save the world and at the end, his Dad was back again too.

Surely Desmond never left Survival mode. Wouldn't even know what that would feel like.

[simplynerdilicious-blog]

A quiet evening in the Creed household.

"You know," you say stopping the circular motion of the spoon you have been swirling in your dessert for the past five minutes and pointing towards the big man sprawled across the other side of the couch " they keep warning me about you Vic... the man he's a psychopath, you should know better, he's dangerous, yap yap yap..." You hear a very faint "hmmh" as he barely looks up at you from the bag of chips he's eating very nonchalantely: "Well, glad to hear I am not the only one you don't listen to".

[splosh-crime]

The Bleeding Effect is a Temporal Nexus

The Bleeding Effect doesn’t cause hallucinations, it causes a temporal nexus that overlays reality, allowing a tactile connection.

They can touch but can’t speak unless one or both of them are in the presence of a Piece of Eden.

During the Solar Flare Ultimatum, all three of Desmond’s Assassin ancestors are present in a Nexus two-way Bleeding Effect. All three of them reach out to save him when his hand reaches the pedestal. All three of them pull Desmond into their time period, sending Desmond bouncing through time.

Inspired by Astyan & @teecupangel ‘s A Short Rest as well as elielll’s Like an Image from an Old Dream on Ao3

[pandapetals]

Sanctuary - Part One

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

a/n: Okay buckle up because this is a long author’s note but when do i not make an essay? I’m an origins girlie and will find any excuse to write about origins logan (it was the first fic i wrote) so here we are with another one. Idk if this makes sense—maybe it’s an AU where logan just works with team x but somehow doesn’t go through the weapon x program idk, okay. It started as a one shot of shy reader (the club scene) then ended up becoming the longest thing i have ever written for logan. I’ve been working on it for the past 2…maybe 3 weeks and yeah…finally posting it after editing it. I was gonna make it a sad, angsty ending but i can’t do it, i just can’t. Logan deserves happy endings. P.s. it’s from logan’s POV that’s why it’s she/her pronouns instead of you. I’m used to writing in third person (creative writing major here) but for fics i usually do second person but here i just wanted to do something different. So sue me.

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

word count: 40k

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the endless stream of chatter pouring from Wade’s mouth. It was like trying to drown out the buzz of a fly that just wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Logan?” Wade’s voice cut through the humid night air like a blade.

“Wade, for the love of God, shut up,” Logan muttered, low and gruff. “I can’t hear anything if you keep flappin’ your damn jaw.”

Across the street, neon lights flickered on the facade of a rundown bar, casting fractured shadows over a row of grime-slicked windows above. The air smelled of stale beer and gasoline, tinged with a hint of rot. Logan took a deep breath, focusing, scanning for any sign of their target—the journalist who’d gotten too curious about things he had no business knowing.

Wade just rolled his eyes, unfazed by Logan’s irritation. “I was just trying to tell you…that’s our guy,” he said, nodding towards a short, nervous-looking man slipping into the front door of the apartment building above the bar. The man’s hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets, head down, moving quickly, like he wanted to be invisible.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. Something about the guy didn’t feel right. But they didn’t have much else to go on, and he didn’t have the patience to argue with Wade right now.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He gestured for Wade to follow, and they crossed the street, dodging a couple of potholes filled with oily rainwater. The entryway smelled even worse up close like someone had left a pile of garbage to rot right inside the door.

Inside, the dim hallway was narrow and claustrophobic, with walls covered in peeling, faded wallpaper that might have once been green. Logan’s steps were silent, practiced—Wade’s, not so much. His boots thudded against the cracked linoleum as he craned his neck, looking around like a tourist on his first big-city adventure.

They found the apartment number and pushed their way in, catching the man off guard as he fumbled to pull a sandwich out of a paper bag. He dropped it with a startled yelp, hands flying up in surrender, eyes wide and terrified.

His voice came out in a high, trembling squeak. “L-look, I don’t want any trouble! I can give you money—I swear, I don’t have much, but—”

Wade cocked his head, raising a skeptical brow. “Money? Oh, sweetheart, we’re not here for money.” He let the word drip like honey, and the man flinched. Wade leaned in, studying the man like he was an insect pinned to a board. “You don’t know anything about Team X?”

The man’s face went pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He shook his head frantically, words spilling out in a stammered mess. “N-no, I swear—I’m just an accountant, alright? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Team…what? I’ve never even heard of it.”

Logan stood back, watching the guy’s every twitch, every dart of his eyes. Fear had a way of squeezing the truth out of people, and this guy looked like he was about to come apart at the seams. Logan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring slightly. He caught Wade’s eye and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. The poor bastard was clean—just some pencil pusher in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wade’s grin only widened a slow, wicked curve that made Logan’s stomach sink. He recognized that look: Wade had just had one of his bright ideas.

Wade clapped the accountant on the shoulder, making the man jump. “Well, congrats, pal. You’ve just saved yourself from a world of hurt. But I gotta ask—you like it here?” He gestured around the dingy apartment, where the wallpaper was peeling into long, damp strips and the faint odor of mildew hung in the air. “Nice digs. Bet the landlord’s a gem.”

The accountant blinked, looking from Wade to Logan in bewilderment as if he was just realizing they weren’t here to kill him. “Uh…I guess? I mean, it’s not the worst place I’ve lived.” 

“Perfect.” Wade snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up like a kid who’d just been handed a new toy.

Logan shot Wade a warning look. “Wade. Don’t even start.”

Wade ignored him, snapping his fingers again as if he’d just solved world hunger. “Think about it, Logan. We get a lease here. Set up a cozy little base. I’ll bring a lava lamp, we’ll order takeout, and we can scope out every last tenant till we find this guy. Like fishing, but in an apartment building.”

Logan scowled, crossing his arms. “You’re saying we go through the hassle of a rental application. Background checks. And wait.”

“Come on, think of it as blending in! Imagine us as friendly neighborhood roommates, huh?” Wade slapped him on the shoulder, a little too enthusiastically. “We can get to know the neighbors. Borrow a cup of sugar. You’ll look adorable in an apron.”

Logan let out a low growl, but he could see Wade wouldn’t let it go. They were running out of options, and if this journalist were smart, he’d be laying low. A bit of patience might be the only way to catch him off guard.

“Fine,” he muttered, the word tasting bitter. “But if you so much as mention lava lamps again, I’m throwing you out the window.”

Wade’s grin was all teeth. “Deal. Now let’s go talk to the landlord. You want to do the talking, or should I?” He turned back to the accountant, clapping him on the shoulder again. “Thanks for the inspiration, buddy. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll just let ourselves out.”

The accountant sank onto his couch, looking dazed, still clutching his sandwich like it was a life preserver. Logan followed Wade to the door, shaking his head. Somehow, he knew this stakeout was going to be the longest assignment of his life.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“Well, Stryker isn’t happy,” Wade was saying, his voice an incessant buzz in the background. “But when is that dude ever happy? I feel bad for his wife—assuming she exists. Maybe he just clones himself a girlfriend every year. Could you imagine? ‘Sorry, honey, I’ll be home late tonight, gotta send a couple of mutants to—’”

Logan ignored Wade’s rambling as he surveyed their new “home.” Calling it a dump would’ve been generous. The wallpaper was peeling, a thick layer of grime coated the windows, and the faint smell of mildew seeped out from behind the walls. They were at least lucky enough to have separate rooms, but even with a door to shut Wade out, Logan doubted he’d get much peace.

“Did he give you any more information?” Logan finally cut in, hoping Wade might actually have something useful.

Wade blinked, as if surprised that Logan was listening. “About the journalist?”

Logan clenched his teeth. “No—of course about the fucking journalist. Like what the guy might look like, or any other detail that could help us find him?”

Wade shrugged, completely unfazed by Logan’s irritation. “Nope. Stryker was being vague again. Just the usual cryptic bullshit. I swear, the dude is losing it. First, he sends us out here to find some mystery man—”

Logan rolled his eyes, tuning Wade out. They’d been here for a week now, trawling through this run-down building and questioning almost every unlucky soul who happened to live here, and they were no closer to finding their target than when they’d started. Stryker hadn’t given them much to go on, which only made Logan suspect that there was more to this mission than he was letting on.

Finally, Logan couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair and headed for the door. “I’ll be back,” he muttered over his shoulder, already halfway out.

Wade called after him. “Where are you going? Got a hot date?”

Logan didn’t dignify that with an answer. He took the stairs down two at a time, feeling a grim sense of relief as he stepped outside and let the cool night air hit him. The bar below their building wasn’t much better than the apartment—it was dim, grimy, and smelled faintly of stale beer and spilled whiskey. But at least it was quiet.

He pushed open the door and made his way inside, hoping he might get a few moments to himself, maybe even a drink strong enough to dull the ever-present headache that came with dealing with Wade.

The place was nearly empty, just a few regulars hunched over the bar and a lone woman sitting in a booth near the back. Logan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he meant to. She looked…out of place. Pretty, in a way that seemed wasted on a hole like this. 

She was sitting alone in a corner booth, a book propped open in front of her. Her hair fell over her face as she read, strands catching in the dim light, and she seemed oblivious to the world around her. There was a quiet stillness about her, a kind of focused calm that didn’t quite fit in a bar like this. Logan found himself wondering what a woman like her was doing here, in a place that looked like it had seen one too many bar fights and smelled like it.

For a moment, he debated going over, then caught himself. Not here to make friends, he reminded himself. Still, his gaze kept drifting back to her, curiosity nagging at him. She didn’t look like the regulars in this place—she was younger, softer, with a certain self-contained reserve that drew him in despite himself.

Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was the exhaustion of the past week catching up to him, but before he knew it, he’d grabbed his glass and walked over to her booth.

She looked up, eyes widening slightly as he approached. Logan stopped just short of her table, suddenly aware of how rough he must look after days on the road, stubble shadowing his jaw, his clothes rumpled and worn. He cleared his throat.

“Mind if I sit?” His voice was softer than he intended, and he cursed himself for feeling the slightest bit nervous.

She hesitated, then gave a small nod, closing her book. Up close, he could see the way her eyes flicked over him, assessing but cautious. She didn’t say anything—just looked at him, as if waiting for him to explain why he’d interrupted her quiet.

“You live upstairs?” he asked, nodding toward the ceiling. He thought he might’ve seen her in the hallway when he and Wade moved in, but he hadn’t paid much attention at the time.

“Down the hall,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the dull hum of the jukebox. “I saw you moving in yesterday. You and…your friend.”

Logan almost chuckled at that. Wade was a lot of things, but “friend” was stretching it. “Yeah, sorry about him. He’s…a handful.”

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips, a glimmer of amusement that made him feel just a little less like a stranger in a strange place. “I noticed.”

He found himself studying her face—the slight curve of her smile, the way her fingers toyed with the edge of her book as if part of her mind was still half in whatever story she’d been reading. Something about her felt…steady. Centered. It was a quality he’d rarely seen in anyone.

“Logan,” he said, finally offering his name, though he didn’t expect her to care.

She nodded, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than he’d expected. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”

Silence settled between them, not quite uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken questions. He could sense she wasn’t the type to pry, but there was a curiosity in her eyes like she was trying to figure him out, just as he was with her.

After a beat, she lifted her book slightly, an invitation for him to leave her in peace. But instead of moving, Logan found himself asking, “What’re you reading?”

She blinked, a bit surprised, then held up the cover for him to see—a worn paperback mystery novel. The kind where the hero always catches the killer but loses something in the process. 

He smirked. “Not exactly light reading for a place like this.”

She shrugged, a hint of a smile returning. “I like the quiet here…and usually nobody bothers me.”

“Well, guess I’m breaking that rule,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She didn’t seem bothered. She just looked at him with those steady, curious eyes, and for a moment, he forgot about the mission, about the dirty apartment upstairs, about Wade’s grating voice. Here, in this booth, in this shitty bar, with a quiet woman and a book, he felt…still.

The moment shattered when he heard Wade’s voice behind him, loud and smug. “Already making friends, huh? Didn't know you had it in you, Logan.”

Logan tensed, jaw tightening as he glanced over his shoulder. Wade was leaning against the bar with that insufferable smirk, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. Logan shot him a look that could have peeled paint.

“Mind your own business, Wade,” he growled, then turned back to her, keeping his voice softer. “Thanks for letting me sit.”

She nodded, her expression as calm and unreadable as before, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement, maybe, or curiosity. It was hard to tell. She watched him as he stood, and he found himself hesitating, not quite ready to break whatever strange, quiet connection had settled between them.

Wade wasn’t about to let it linger. “Come on, Romeo,” he called, grinning as he gestured for Logan to follow. “We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Or did you forget in all the charming small talk?”

Logan clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to punch the smirk off Wade’s face. Instead, he gave her one last look—a silent apology or a promise to be less of a stranger next time. But her gaze remained steady, unreadable, as he turned to go.

As he walked past Wade, he grabbed him by the shoulder, steering him roughly toward the door. “Let’s go,” he muttered.

Wade snickered, clearly enjoying the opportunity to needle him. “Touchy, touchy. Guess you do have a heart under all that grumpiness.”

Logan ignored him, shoving Wade ahead and out the door, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving something unfinished. Her image stayed in his mind—the way she’d watched him with those curious eyes, her quiet presence a balm in a week filled with noise and chaos. He didn’t know what it was about her that tugged at him, but he knew it wasn’t something he could explain, even to himself.

Once they were back on the street, Wade was still talking, filling the night air with his usual nonsensical commentary. Logan barely heard him. His mind was elsewhere, replaying that brief encounter in the dimly lit booth. He’d come down to the bar for a moment of peace, maybe a clue, maybe just a strong drink. He hadn’t expected to find…whatever that was.

But there was no time to dwell on it. They had a job to do, and he’d be damned if he let Wade screw it up.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan was screwed. Ever since that brief encounter in the bar, she’d been wedged in his mind like a splinter he couldn’t dig out. He’d catch himself lying on the worn-out couch in the apartment, tuning out Wade’s endless chatter and focusing instead on the faint sounds of her footsteps from down the hall.

She lived across the hall, exactly three doors down. He knew that much, even though he hadn’t seen her again since that night. She didn’t come or go often, and when she did, it was only for short trips—a few minutes out, then back to the quiet solitude of her apartment. 

Logan found himself straining his heightened senses to catch any trace of her: the click of her door, the soft pad of her feet against the hallway carpet, even the faint murmur of her voice when she spoke on the phone. It was insane. He didn’t know the first thing about her, but somehow she’d settled under his skin.

Fuck, he thought, running a hand over his face. I’m a damn stalker.

He tried to shake it off, forcing himself to focus on the mission, but the building felt too cramped, the walls too thin, and her presence was always just out of reach. Wade, of course, noticed Logan’s distraction and was more than happy to exploit it.

“So, when are you gonna introduce me to your girlfriend?” Wade quipped one morning, sprawled across the armchair with his feet propped up on the coffee table. “Or are you just gonna keep sulking around, hoping she magically falls into your lap?”

Logan shot him a glare. “She’s not my girlfriend, Wade.”

“Oh, sure,” Wade drawled, smirking. “That’s why you’ve been lying here for the last three hours, sniffing the air like a bloodhound every time she walks past. I swear, you’re worse than a teenager.”

Logan clenched his fists, jaw tight. He’d deny it if he could, but Wade had a point, and it grated on him. He needed an excuse—a real reason to cross paths with her again, something that wouldn’t make him look like a complete creep.

Wade, apparently sensing an opportunity to meddle, sat up with a grin. “Tell you what, old man. How about you make yourself useful and take our laundry down to the laundromat? You look like you could use a walk, maybe clear your head a bit.” He tossed a balled-up shirt at Logan’s face.

Logan caught it, growling. “Since when do you do laundry?”

“Since never. But I’m feeling generous,” Wade said, smirking as he dropped a bundle of clothes into a bag and shoved it at Logan. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll run into someone interesting while you’re there. Just a thought.”

Logan snatched the bag, too annoyed to argue, and stalked out of the apartment. The morning was cool, the sky overcast, and the streets were quiet as he made his way down to the laundromat which was across the street from the apartment.

He told himself he was only doing it to get Wade off his back—but he couldn’t deny the faint flicker of anticipation at the thought of seeing her again.

The laundromat was nearly empty when he pushed open the door, the dull hum of washing machines filling the air. And there she was, sitting on a cracked plastic chair near the back, a book open on her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration. She didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in her reading, a strand of hair falling over her face as she turned a page.

Logan froze, his grip tightening around the bag of clothes. Get it together, he told himself, forcing his feet to move as he made his way to an empty machine a few steps away from her. He tossed the clothes in, doing his best to look casual, though he could feel his heart thumping harder than it should.

After a moment, he glanced her way, watching the way her eyes skimmed the words on the page, her lips moving slightly as if she were tasting each sentence. She looked…content. Lost in her own world, soft and quiet in a way that felt like the exact opposite of everything in his life right now.

He cleared his throat, searching for something to say, anything that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. “Good book?” he managed, his voice gruff, and immediately regretted it. Smooth, Logan. Real smooth.

She looked up, surprised, her gaze locking onto his. For a second, he thought she might brush him off, but then she gave a small, shy smile.

“Yeah, it’s… a mystery novel,” she said, holding up the cover. Her voice was soft, and he caught a faint trace of lavender like she’d been folding fresh laundry just before he came in. “I like to read while I’m waiting. It makes the time go faster.”

Logan nodded, his usual stoic expression softening just a little. “Seems like a good way to pass the time. This place could use the distraction.” He glanced around at the flickering fluorescent lights, the chipped tiles, the machines rattling like they were on their last legs. “Not exactly a scenic spot.”

She laughed, a quiet sound, but it lit up her face in a way that caught him off guard. “No, it’s not. But it’s peaceful, in its own way.”

They fell into a silence as she went back to her book, and Logan found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye as he sorted through the clothes, feeding them into the machine one by one. There was a calmness about her, a quiet strength, and he couldn’t help but wonder what her story was—why someone like her had chosen to live in a place like this, so close to the kind of trouble people usually ran from.

After a few minutes of silence, Logan cleared his throat, searching for something to say. “You… uh, you live alone?”

She looked up, her eyes narrowing just a fraction, a hint of suspicion flickering there. He could almost see her calculating whether or not to answer. “Do you really think I’d tell you that?” she asked, her tone mild but pointed.

Logan’s heart skipped. Shit. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. “I didn’t—I’m not some creepy guy, I swear,” he said quickly, stumbling over his words in a way he wasn’t used to. “Just… making conversation.”

She arched an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And you expect me to take your word for it?”

He felt heat rise to his face and shifted uncomfortably, aware of how ridiculous he must sound. This wasn’t him—Logan didn’t do small talk, especially not with someone he barely knew. But something about her had him feeling giddy, bumbling his way through a conversation he wasn’t quite prepared for.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “Look, I’m sorry. You have a point. It’s just… this neighborhood doesn’t exactly feel safe. I guess that’s why I asked.”

She sighed softly, closing her book and running her fingers along its worn spine. “Even more of a reason not to answer your questions, don’t you think?” Her tone was cool and cautious, but there was no malice there—just a quiet wariness that made him wonder what she’d been through to put up those walls.

Logan nodded, feeling a twinge of respect for her caution, even if it stung a little to be on the receiving end of it. She’s smart, he thought. Smart enough not to trust a stranger with more muscles than manners, asking personal questions in a laundromat.

An awkward silence settled between them, filled with the rhythmic hum of the machines. He glanced down at his laundry, watching the clothes tumble through the soapy water, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid or intrusive. Finally, he let out a long breath.

“Look, I know I’m not exactly smooth,” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. “I just… don’t see many people like you around here.”

She tilted her head, curiosity softening her guarded expression. “People like me?”

“Yeah. People who—” He struggled to find the right words. “Who seem like they don’t belong in a place like this.” He gave her a slight, self-conscious shrug. “You look… well, like you’ve got better places to be than a crappy laundromat in a bad part of town. That’s all.”

She studied him for a moment, the corner of her mouth lifting in what almost looked like amusement. “And you think you belong here?”

He let out a dry laugh, surprised by the question. “Probably more than most. It’s not exactly my first time in a place like this.”

“Figures,” she murmured, her gaze sweeping over him, taking in the worn leather jacket, the stubble, the roughness that clung to him like a second skin. “You look… I don’t know. Like you’re used to keeping people at a distance.”

Logan blinked, caught off guard by the accuracy of her observation. He shifted under her gaze, feeling exposed in a way he wasn’t used to. “Yeah, well,” he said, gruffly, “sometimes distance is a good thing. Keeps people safe.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her expression softening just a little. “Maybe. But it also keeps people alone.”

Her words hit him harder than he’d expected, settling into some quiet place inside him he’d thought was long gone. He didn’t know how to respond, so he just nodded, feeling the weight of her gaze on him like a challenge.

After a beat, she gathered her laundry, folding it with careful practiced movements, her hands steady and precise. He watched her, mesmerized by the quiet grace in each gesture, the way she seemed to carry her world with her, self-contained and resilient.

As she turned to leave, she glanced back at him, something unreadable in her eyes. “Take care, Logan,” she said, her voice softer now. It wasn’t a question—it was a goodbye, or maybe a warning.

He swallowed, surprised that she’d remembered his name. “Yeah… you too.”

She lingered for a second, then gave him a small nod and walked out, leaving the faint scent of lavender and the echo of her words hanging in the air.

Logan watched her go, feeling the ache of something unfinished settle in his chest. He’d wanted to ask her more, to find out what kept her here, what kept her so guarded. But he knew better than to push.

As he turned back to the hum of the washing machines, he realized he’d be counting down the days until he saw her again.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“Stryker’s pissed,” Wade muttered, slumping against the kitchen counter in their dingy apartment. The usual smirk was missing from his face, replaced by a look of weary frustration. “Doesn’t understand how, after two weeks, we haven’t found the guy.”

Logan leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight. The truth was, he’d practically given up on the mission. They’d followed every lead, shaken down every contact, and come up with nothing. At this point, the search felt pointless. Hell, he could barely keep his head in the game—his mind kept drifting back to her. He hadn’t seen her in days, not since that run-in at the laundromat, and the silence from across the hall gnawed at him in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Tell him this shit takes time. We’ve done everything we can,” he said, the words coming out hollow. He didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore, not even for Wade.

Wade sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I already did. But, y’know, Stryker’s not exactly big on patience. Guy thinks we’re machines or something.” He shot Logan a sidelong glance, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “You all right, man?”

Logan grunted, brushing him off. “I need a drink,” he muttered, grabbing his worn leather jacket from the back of the sofa and heading for the door. He didn’t look back, didn’t wait for Wade’s response. The apartment felt too cramped, too stale, and he needed air—needed a chance, maybe, to see her.

He made his way down the narrow stairwell, taking two steps at a time, the dim light casting shadows over the worn wallpaper. The bar was quieter than usual, only a handful of regulars hunched over their drinks, lost in their thoughts. Logan scanned the room, his heart pounding harder than he cared to admit. He’d been hoping, half-expecting, to see her. But she kept to herself so much that even catching a glimpse felt like chasing smoke.

Then he saw her, and his breath caught. There she was, standing behind the bar, her sleeves rolled up, pouring a whiskey into a lowball glass with practiced precision. The faint glow of the bar lights softened her face, giving her an almost ethereal look in the dimness. She didn’t notice him at first, focused on her work, and he took a second just to watch her, feeling that strange pull tighten in his chest.

He slid onto a stool at the bar, waiting until she looked up and caught sight of him. Her eyes flickered with recognition, a brief, surprised spark that quickly settled into something more guarded.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

She gave a small, almost shy smile, setting the glass she’d just poured in front of an older man at the end of the bar. “Just part-time,” she replied. “Pays the bills.”

Logan nodded, glancing at the bottles lined up behind her. “Don’t suppose you’d join me for a drink?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, though there was something distant in her eyes. “I don’t drink,” she said, wiping down the counter with a cloth. “But I can pour you something strong if that’s what you need.”

He shrugged, trying to act casual. “Maybe I just wanted company.”

She paused, her hand stilling for a moment as she looked at him. “Rough day?”

Logan let out a humorless chuckle. “You could say that.” He hesitated, then added, “Work’s… complicated.”

She tilted her head, watching him with that quiet, steady gaze that always seemed to see right through him. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes talking about his job.”

“Not much to talk about,” he muttered, though he could feel the weight of it pressing on him, heavier than he wanted to admit. He took a deep breath, fingers tapping restlessly on the bar. “Let’s just say I’ve been chasing something that doesn’t want to be found.”

She nodded, her expression hardening just a bit. “Sometimes it’s better to let things go. Not everything needs to be caught.” Her words were gentle, but they struck something deep inside him, making him feel exposed in a way he wasn’t used to.

He ran a hand over his face, weary. “Yeah, maybe. Just… hard to walk away when you’ve got orders breathing down your neck.”

She arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through her usual reserve. ���So you’re the type who follows orders, huh?”

Logan smirked, shaking his head. “Not exactly. But sometimes you don’t get a choice.” He picked up his glass, taking a slow sip of the whiskey she’d poured, savoring the burn as it went down. “What about you? Seems like you don’t mind keeping to yourself.”

She shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m used to it. Less complicated that way.”

There was a pause, and he could sense something unspoken there, a hint of a story she wasn’t quite ready to tell. He felt an unexpected urge to ask, to push just a little, but he held back, afraid of scaring her off.

Instead, he said, “This place doesn’t exactly feel like… I don’t know. The kind of spot for someone who likes peace and quiet.”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and unexpected. “Probably not. But I don’t mind it here. It’s… predictable.” She looked down, fiddling with the edge of her towel, a small frown creasing her forehead. “I’ve had enough surprises for one lifetime.”

Logan watched her, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t name—sympathy, maybe, or just the strange, unexplainable need to understand her. “Yeah. I get that,” he murmured, surprising himself with how much he meant it. “I’m not much of a fan of surprises either.”

She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her expression softening. “Funny. Somehow, I think you’ve had your fair share.”

“More than I’d like,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. He wanted to tell her more, to somehow convey the weight he carried without unloading it all on her shoulders. But he was used to keeping that part of himself locked away. So instead, he just took another drink, feeling the burn of the whiskey like a familiar ache.

After a moment, she leaned on the bar, closer than she’d been before, and he caught a faint whiff of lavender—a soft, almost comforting scent that didn’t belong in a place like this. “For what it’s worth,” she said quietly, “you don’t seem like the kind of guy who belongs here.”

He looked up, caught off guard by her words. There was something raw in her gaze, something vulnerable she was letting him see, if only for a second. At that moment, he felt the urge to reach out, to say something real, something that might close the gap between them.

But the words stuck in his throat. All he could manage was a rough, “Yeah. Maybe neither of us do.”

She smiled faintly, a ghost of one, then straightened, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. “I should get back to work,” she said, her voice soft but distant again.

Logan nodded, watching as she moved down the bar to help another customer. The warmth she’d shown him vanished as she fell back into the rhythm of her job, her expression becoming neutral, polite, reserved.

He sat there for a while, nursing his drink, watching her from the corner of his eye. There was a part of him that wanted to wait until her shift ended, to walk her home, to find out more about the life she kept hidden behind that quiet, steady demeanor. But he knew better. They were both loners, both wary, both used to walls that kept the world at a distance.

Still, as he finally rose to leave, he couldn’t help but glance back one last time, catching her eye for a fleeting moment. There was something there—something unspoken, a silent understanding like they were both seeing the loneliness in each other.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

A door slammed somewhere down the hall, jolting Logan awake. He shot up, his senses immediately on high alert, ears ringing from the sudden noise. In this dump of an apartment building, chaos was as predictable as the peeling paint on the walls, but something about this was different. He felt it low in his gut—a tug of instinct that told him her door was the one that had slammed.

He didn’t even think twice. Rolling out of bed, he barely bothered to throw on a shirt, his sweatpants clinging to his legs as he stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The air was thick and stale, the smell of old carpet mingling with the faint, sour odor of cigarette smoke. Shadows pooled in the corners, and the weak fluorescent light flickered above, casting an eerie, washed-out glow over everything.

Logan froze when he spotted a lanky, rough-looking guy standing outside her door, his posture tense, fists clenched and white as he pounded on the wood.

“C’mon, let me in!” the guy snarled, his voice slurred and aggressive. “We’re not done talking!”

Logan’s jaw tightened, a surge of anger rising in his chest. He watched for a second, sizing the guy up—a wiry frame, greasy hair, clothes rumpled like he hadn’t changed in days. The man looked like trouble, the kind of guy who didn’t know when to take no for an answer. And if he was here banging on her door at this hour, that made him Logan’s problem.

Logan’s voice came out low and cold as he approached. “You wanna keep it down?”

The guy spun around, his eyes narrowing as he took in Logan’s broad shoulders, the scowl etched deep on his face. “Who the hell are you?” he sneered, but there was a flicker of hesitation, a hint of unease that Logan caught right away.

Logan took another step forward, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “I’m the guy who lives down the hall,” he said, his tone deadly calm. “And you’re about two seconds away from regretting that door you’re banging on.”

The guy’s sneer wavered, but he tried to puff himself up, stepping forward like he was going to make something of it. “This doesn’t concern you, man. I’m just trying to talk to my girl.”

“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk,” Logan replied, glancing at the door. His fists clenched instinctively. The thought of this guy forcing his way in, disturbing her, made his blood boil. “So maybe you should take the hint and get lost.”

The guy scoffed, but there was a nervous edge creeping into his voice now. “Look, we’re just… we’re going through some stuff. It’s none of your business.”

Logan took one more step, close enough that he could see the guy’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Last warning. Leave. Or I make you leave.”

Before the guy could respond, the door opened a crack, and she appeared, her face pale and tense, eyes darting between Logan and this guy. “Logan, don’t. Please,” she said, her voice softer than usual but carrying a weight that made him pause. “It’s… it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Logan glanced at her, his irritation tempered by a flash of confusion. Handle it? The guy was practically foaming at the mouth, and she was telling him to back off.

The guy shot her a pleading look. “Come on, babe, just give me five minutes. We can talk this out.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and Logan could see the resolve in her eyes as she shook her head. “I already told you, we’re done. There’s nothing left to talk about. Just go.”

The guy didn’t budge, his face twisting with frustration. “You’re being unreasonable. This is all because of that stupid job, isn’t it? You think you’re too good for me now, huh?”

Logan felt his patience snap. He took a step forward, his voice a low growl. “She said go. Don’t make me tell you again.”

The guy’s eyes flicked back to Logan, the last traces of defiance draining out of him. For a second, he seemed to weigh his options, then cursed under his breath and turned, stalking down the hallway. He cast one last resentful glare over his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight, Logan turned back to her. She was leaning against the doorframe, her face tight with frustration. He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, but she cut him off with a weary sigh.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she muttered, her eyes fixed somewhere near the floor.

Logan frowned. “Seemed like he wasn’t getting the message,” he replied, keeping his voice gentler than usual. “Didn’t look like he was gonna leave you alone.”

She crossed her arms, hugging herself as if trying to put some barrier between them. “I just… I didn’t want to make things worse. He’s already been hanging around too much as it is, and now—” She trailed off, looking away, clearly uncomfortable.

Logan’s brows furrowed. He’d come out here ready to throw the guy down the stairs if it came to that, but now he was starting to see the other side of it. “Is he…?” Logan paused, not sure how to phrase it. “Your boyfriend?”

She shook her head quickly. “No–I mean he was, sort of. Not anymore.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “He’s just… he doesn’t know when to let go.”

Logan felt a flash of anger on her behalf, a protective instinct flaring up inside him. “If he gives you any more trouble, you let me know. I’ll make sure he stays gone.”

Instead of relief, his words seemed to frustrate her. She let out a soft huff, rubbing her temples. “Logan, I don’t need a knight in shining armor. This is… complicated. He’s just going through something. It doesn’t matter—” Her voice trailed off leaving the silence to hang between them.

Logan clenched his jaw, forcing himself to take a step back. He wasn’t used to being told to stand down, especially when he felt someone needed his help. But he could see this only made her more anxious, that his interference was complicating things for her in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

“Fine,” he said, though it took effort to keep his voice steady. “But if he shows up again, I’m not gonna just sit by and watch him bother you.”

She looked at him, her expression softening for a moment. There was a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, tempered by weariness. “Thanks, Logan. I appreciate it. Really, but it won’t make things easier. He’ll just think—I just don’t want any more problems, okay?” 

He nodded, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t quite name. He’d wanted to protect her, to do something useful, but it seemed all he’d managed was to add to her stress. “Got it,” he said quietly.

She gave him a small, tentative smile, then turned back to her apartment. As she shut the door, he caught one last glimpse of her expression—tired, guarded, but grateful, like she was carrying the weight of more than just a bad ex.

Logan stood there for a long moment, staring at her closed door, hands clenched at his sides. He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d started to care until he’d felt that surge of anger seeing someone else give her trouble. But now he could feel her boundaries, a line she’d drawn that he hadn’t meant to cross.

Turning back to his apartment, he couldn’t shake the frustration coiled tight in his chest, or the quiet ache that came with knowing there were parts of her life he couldn’t protect her from.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“You and that girl—have you made any progress?” Wade asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a lazy sip of his beer. They were sitting in their usual corner of the bar, ostensibly keeping an eye out for any sign of their elusive target. But Wade’s attention, as usual, had drifted to more entertaining topics.

Logan huffed, eyes scanning the room. “What did I tell you, Wade? I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sensitive subject, big guy?” Wade’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying himself. “C’mon, I’m just saying—you’ve been pining after her like a lovesick puppy for weeks now. You’re not exactly subtle.”

Logan shot him a glare that could’ve cut steel, but Wade just shrugged, unbothered. “Look, I’ve got a way with the ladies. Maybe I can help you out.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Wade wasn’t listening. His eyes lit up as the door opened, and she walked in, pulling on her apron as she headed behind the bar. Logan tried not to stare, but he felt that familiar pull in his chest, his gaze drawn to her almost against his will. She looked tired, a little more reserved than usual, like something heavy was weighing on her mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if her ex had been causing her trouble again. He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to ask, to do something to make it better.

That’s when Wade got up.

Logan’s stomach tightened as Wade strolled across the bar, his usual cocky swagger on full display. He watched, jaw clenched, as Wade leaned on the bar, flashing her one of his trademark grins. She looked up, startled at first, and Logan saw her eyes flick briefly toward him before settling back on Wade. Her expression softened into a polite, practiced smile, the kind she gave every customer. But Wade wasn’t satisfied with politeness.

He couldn’t hear exactly what Wade was saying due to his jealousy overtaking his senses, but he saw her give a small, hesitant laugh, the kind that looked like she was just being polite. That didn’t matter—Wade was relentless, leaning in closer, gesturing animatedly, probably telling some ridiculous story. After a few moments, Logan saw her laugh again, this time a little more genuine, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

Logan’s fingers tightened around his glass, the jealousy hitting him like a punch to the gut. He tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself it was nothing—just Wade being Wade. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Wade, sensing the effect he was having, shot a glance back at Logan, a smug grin flashing across his face before he turned back to her. Logan’s chest tightened. That bastard. He’d walked over there just to rile him up, and damn it, it was working.

Wade said something else, something that made her laugh again—this time a little louder, though Logan could tell it was still half-hearted, a courtesy laugh to appease the charming stranger who’d decided to bother her during her shift. She wasn’t truly engaged, but the sight of her laughing, even out of politeness, stirred something dark and possessive in Logan’s gut.

He forced himself to look away, taking a long drink to steady himself, but the sound of her laugh lingered, scratching at him. Wade was still leaning on the bar, still talking to her, probably laying it on thick just to make Logan squirm. Logan couldn’t help the flash of irritation that surged through him. It wasn’t like he’d made a claim on her or anything—but seeing Wade so close, making her laugh, it grated on him in a way he hadn’t expected.

After a few agonizing minutes, Wade finally sauntered back over, plopping down across from Logan with a satisfied smirk. Logan’s jaw was still clenched, his gaze flickering over to where she was now wiping down the bar, her expression already back to that familiar, guarded neutrality.

Wade raised an eyebrow, leaning in with a grin. “You see that? Had her laughing in no time. It’s called charm, my friend. You should try it sometime.”

Logan glared at him, his voice low and dangerous. “Cut the crap, Wade.”

“Oh, come on,” Wade chuckled, leaning back with a look of pure amusement. “Don’t be so uptight. If you’re not gonna make a move, someone else will.”

Logan’s fists tightened, and he forced himself to take a slow, steadying breath. “This isn’t a game, Wade.”

Wade shrugged, unbothered. “Never said it was. Just seems like you’re too busy brooding over her from a distance to actually, y’know, do anything.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “You afraid she’ll turn you down? Big, tough Logan afraid of a pretty girl?”

Logan’s nostrils flared, a quiet anger simmering in his chest, but he held back. He wasn’t going to give Wade the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he let his gaze drift back to her, watching as she moved behind the bar, her face calm but distant, like she was deliberately shutting herself off from everything around her.

The truth was, Wade wasn’t entirely wrong. Logan had been keeping his distance, unsure how to approach her, especially with everything going on in her life. He didn’t want to be another complication, another person who made things harder for her. But watching Wade talk to her, seeing that faint, forced smile on her face—it made him realize just how badly he wanted to be the one making her smile, not out of politeness or obligation, but because she actually wanted him there.

Wade leaned in, still smirking. “So? What’s the plan, big guy? You gonna sit here and sulk, or you gonna actually talk to her?”

Logan’s gaze snapped back to him, irritation flaring. “Unlike you, I don’t go around sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Hey, I was just being friendly,” Wade said, raising his hands in mock innocence. “You know, she’s pretty nice once you get her to open up a little. Thought I’d do you a favor, warm her up for you.”

Logan scoffed, but he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his tone. “She’s not some conquest, Wade.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Relax, old man. I’m not trying to steal her. Just trying to get you to wake up and do something about it before she slips away.” He glanced back toward the bar, where she was now stacking glasses, oblivious to their conversation. “You think she’s gonna wait around forever? Women like that don’t stay single long.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his heart pounding with a mixture of frustration and jealousy he couldn’t shake. He took another sip of his drink, forcing himself to keep his gaze on anything else instead of glancing her way again. The truth was, Wade’s words struck too close to home. He’d been holding back, convincing himself that he had time, that he didn’t need to rush things. But seeing her with someone else—even Wade—made him realize how thin that excuse really was.

After a moment, Logan set his glass down, his eyes cold and hard. “You don’t know the first thing about her, Wade.”

Wade shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe not. But neither do you, at this rate.” He flashed another grin, leaning back in his seat. “Look, you’re not gonna scare me off with your brooding, so maybe just… I don’t know, think about it. You might find that going over there and actually talking to her works better than glaring at me.”

Logan didn’t respond, but his gaze drifted back to her, watching as she moved with quiet efficiency, her expression carefully blank. He could still hear her forced laugh echoing in his head, the way she’d seemed to tolerate Wade’s attention rather than welcome it.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. If Wade wasn’t going to back off, maybe it was time to take matters into his own hands.

He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t sit around and let someone else fill the space he’d been too afraid to claim.

Logan slid onto the bar stool in front of her, his presence a solid weight she couldn’t ignore, even though she kept her eyes down, focused on wiping an already-clean spot on the counter. She looked up briefly, her gaze flicking to him before darting away, a faint, polite smile barely gracing her lips.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

“Hi.” She answered quietly, her eyes settling somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but on him. Her hands kept busy, her movements almost mechanical as she straightened the bottles on the bar and rearranged the napkins as if his presence alone made her feel she had to be doing something.

Logan felt a pang of something uncomfortably close to regret. He wasn’t used to this—a woman shrinking away from him, putting up walls before he’d even had a chance to say his piece. The memory of her ex banging on her door flashed through his mind, and he shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, about the other night,” he began, voice rougher than he intended. “I… I didn’t mean to, y’know, step in like that. I just thought—well, it seemed like you needed help.”

She finally looked at him, her gaze sharp and guarded, like she was measuring each word before letting it reach her. “It’s fine,” she said flatly, her tone clipped. “I can handle my own problems.”

Logan swallowed, feeling the rejection like a slap. He knew she was brushing him off, trying to make him back down, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let it go. “Didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t,” he muttered, his voice softer. “Just… didn’t want to see you put in a bad spot.”

She let out a small, humorless laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she busied herself with the glasses on the bar. “Bad spots are part of the package around here, Logan. You don’t need to make it your business.”

He leaned forward slightly, brow furrowing. “Maybe I just don’t like seeing you get hurt.” The words came out more intense than he’d intended, and he saw her stiffen, her hands pausing mid-reach. She looked up, really looked at him, a flash of something unreadable in her eyes—surprise, maybe, or irritation. It was hard to tell.

She took a breath, visibly collecting herself. “Logan… I appreciate the concern, really. But I’m fine.” Her voice was steady but distant like she was pulling herself back behind a wall he couldn’t get through. “This kind of thing… it’s not new to me.”

That didn’t sit right with him, the idea of her having to handle men like her ex, people who didn’t take no for an answer. He wanted to ask her more, to understand what kind of trouble she’d been through, but he knew that line was dangerous. Respect her space, he reminded himself, even as the urge to push gnawed at him.

But he couldn’t help himself. “You don’t… you don’t have anyone else to look out for you?”

Her gaze flicked to him, sharper now, her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just…” He faltered, feeling himself starting to drown in the weight of his awkwardness. “You don’t seem to have anyone around. Family, friends. Someone who could back you up if things got rough.”

She stared at him for a long, tense moment, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a slow, controlled exhale, setting down the glass she’d been wiping with careful deliberation. “Logan, you don’t know me. And frankly, I don’t know you. You and your friend…” She paused, glancing over at Wade, who was lounging at the other end of the bar, eyeing them with an amused grin. “You both keep… hovering. And it’s starting to feel a little strange.”

Logan’s jaw tightened and a wave of frustration and embarrassment crashed over him. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, a bit too defensively. “We’re just… we’re just looking out for you. This place isn’t exactly safe.”

She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “And you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t understand the risks of living here?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, his words failing him. He realized he’d overstepped, pushed too far without thinking. She didn’t need a protector, at least not one who bulldozed into her life without an invitation. And yet, here he was, sitting at her bar, trying to fix things he barely understood.

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “I see you here, night after night, putting up with jerks who don’t know when to quit. You’re not like them. You deserve better.”

Her expression softened, but only slightly, and she glanced away, a distant look in her eyes. “Better,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Right.” She looked back at him, meeting his gaze with something close to resignation. “I don’t need saving, Logan. I’ve been doing just fine without it.”

He swallowed, hating how small those words made him feel. He’d faced down enemies, been through battles that left him scarred in ways she couldn’t imagine, but sitting here under her gaze, he felt exposed, clumsy, like he was fumbling in the dark.

She sighed, glancing down, and for a moment, he saw a hint of vulnerability in her expression—a crack in her armor. “Why are you really here?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you and your friend even bothering with me? I’m just… some bartender.”

Logan hesitated, feeling Wade’s eyes on him from across the room, knowing he was probably getting a kick out of watching him squirm. But this was more than just Wade’s meddling. This was him, unable to walk away, pulled back to her time and time again for reasons he couldn’t explain.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he said finally, his voice low, but steady. “You’re… different. Strong. I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I know I’m not good with words, but… I see you here, and I just keep thinking you deserve more than this.”

She looked at him, her guarded expression softening, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw something crack beneath the surface—a glimmer of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded. But then, just as quickly, she pulled back, straightening, her walls going up again.

“Oh, so I’m a charity case now?” she murmured, her voice tight and distant, the hint of anger simmering beneath her words. She crossed her arms, shifting her weight as she looked him over, her gaze cold and appraising. “Look, I told you—I don’t need anyone looking out for me, especially not some guy who doesn’t know when he’s made someone uncomfortable.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, each one sinking in deep. Logan’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He felt his face go hot, a mix of shame and frustration twisting inside him. He wanted to explain himself, to tell her he hadn’t meant it that way—but the look on her face told him that anything he said now would only make things worse.

“I—” he started, then stopped, swallowing hard. She kept her eyes on him, unblinking, her expression hard as steel. He could see it now—the line he’d crossed, the space he’d invaded without thinking. He’d thought he was helping, protecting her, but all he’d done was make her feel trapped.

She took a breath, exhaling slowly as she glanced away, her jaw clenched. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Guys like you think you’re doing me a favor, stepping in, trying to… ‘protect’ me. But all you’re doing is making me feel like I can’t handle my own life. Like I’m weak. And I’m not.”

Logan clenched his fists under the bar, forcing himself to stay quiet, to listen. He’d been on the other side of this before—people assuming things about him, trying to fix things they didn’t understand. Now, for the first time, he realized he was doing the same thing to her. He looked down, shame tightening in his chest.

She shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “You barely know me, Logan. You have no idea what I’ve been through. And I’m not interested in becoming some project for you to fix or some one-night stand.”

Her words stung, cutting through the last shreds of his defensiveness. He’d been telling himself he was looking out for her, that she needed someone to stand up for her. But now he could see how it must have looked to her—some guy she barely knew, showing up again and again, prying into her life, acting like he knew better.

He cleared his throat, voice rough. “You’re right,” he said quietly, finally meeting her gaze. “I… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

She watched him, her eyes softened just a fraction, though the wariness remained. He could feel the weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him, making him feel clumsy and exposed.

“Look,” she said, her tone gentler but still guarded, “I appreciate whatever it is you’re trying to do. Really. But you don’t get to decide what I need. That’s my choice. And if I want help, I’ll ask for it.”

He nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of relief and regret. He could sense the walls she’d put up, and he knew now that he was part of the reason they were there.

He stood up, feeling the weight of her words settle over him like a cold ache. “Right. Sorry if we made things weird,” he muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Didn’t mean to… overstep.”

For the first time, she seemed to soften, her gaze losing some of its hardness. She let out a long breath, looking down at the bar as if collecting her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was almost kind, but there was an edge to it, a reminder.

“Just… maybe think twice before you go around trying to be someone’s hero,” she said, her lips curving into a faint, sad smile.

Logan felt the weight of her words settle over him, heavier than anything he’d carried in a long time. He nodded, swallowing back the urge to say more. For once, he knew he needed to let her have the last word.

She turned away, her attention shifting to a group of customers at the other end of the bar. She moved with quiet efficiency, her shoulders tense but steady, shutting him out completely.

Logan stood there for a moment, feeling the full sting of her rejection, the ache of realizing he’d overstepped in ways he couldn’t take back. She didn’t look at him again, didn’t acknowledge his presence, and he knew he’d lost whatever fragile connection they’d had.

“Smooth, as always,” Wade drawled, leaning back with an infuriating grin.

Logan ignored him, his jaw clenched tight as he sat down. He’d thought he was protecting her but all he’d done was drive her further away. 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The past few days, Logan had kept a low profile, barely leaving the apartment except to grab food or take out the trash. He didn’t want to risk running into her—not after the way she’d shut him down, her words echoing in his mind like a bruise that wouldn’t fade. She’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need his help, and he’d gotten the message. Loud and clear.

But tonight, Wade had barged in with new intel from Stryker. Apparently, their elusive journalist was on the move, spotted hanging around one of the local clubs. Logan hadn’t been in the mood to play dress-up and join the nightlife, but he didn’t have much choice. Stryker was breathing down their necks, and if this was their best shot at tracking the guy down, he couldn’t let it slip by.

So he’d reluctantly thrown on a clean shirt and made the walk a few blocks down to the club, Wade at his side, chattering nonstop as they reached the entrance.

“It’s a bit nicer than the bar we live above,” Wade noted, casting a glance around the neon-lit exterior with approval. A line of people waited outside, all glittering dresses and sharp suits, laughter, and perfume filling the warm night air. Wade smirked, nudging Logan with his elbow. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you can find another pretty girl to make up for your last crash-and-burn.”

Logan rolled his eyes, ignoring Wade’s jab. “We’re here to find the journalist. Stay focused,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as they made their way inside. The club was dimly lit, pulsing with low red and blue lights that throbbed to the beat of the music. Bodies moved on the dance floor, a tangle of arms and laughter and heat, and Logan felt a familiar irritation simmering under his skin. Clubs weren’t his scene. Too loud, too crowded, too many damn people.

He forced himself to concentrate, sniffing the air, trying to pick up any hint of their target’s scent. But the mix of sweat, cologne, and spilled alcohol made it nearly impossible to pick up anything distinctive. He scanned the crowd, his eyes narrowing as he tried to catch sight of anyone who looked remotely like the guy they were hunting.

But then he saw her.

At first, he thought he was imagining it—a trick of the lights, or just his mind playing cruel games. But no. It was her, standing near the edge of the dance floor, laughing at something some woman was saying. She looked… different. Completely different from the guarded, quiet bartender he’d met. Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and her lips were painted a glossy, tempting shade that caught the light every time she smiled. She wore a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, showing off a side of her he’d never seen before, a side he hadn’t even known existed.

Logan’s mouth went dry, and for a moment, he forgot why he was even there. All he could think about was her—the way she moved, the easy smile on her face, the way her laughter seemed to cut through the noise of the club like it was meant for him alone. He’d been trying to avoid her, trying to keep his distance, but seeing her like this, carefree and vibrant… pulled him in, like a magnet he couldn’t resist.

Wade must have noticed his distraction, because he gave Logan a light smack on the shoulder, pulling him out of his trance. “Logan, buddy, don’t tell me you’re still stuck on her,” Wade said, his tone half-amused, half-annoyed. “I swear, I’ve never seen you this pathetic over anyone. Rejection’s hitting you hard, huh?”

Logan shook his head, forcing himself to tear his gaze away, though his eyes kept drifting back to her. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, more to himself than to Wade. “We’re here for the journalist. Just… keep your eyes open.”

Wade wasn’t buying it. He crossed his arms, smirking. “Oh, I’m keeping my eyes open, all right. You, on the other hand…” He whistled, nodding in her direction. “You’re about one second away from abandoning the mission to go talk to her. I mean, come on. If you’re that obsessed, just go over there already.”

Logan clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to punch Wade then and there. But a part of him hated that Wade was right. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since their last conversation, and now, seeing her like this, he was barely holding himself back.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he started making his way across the crowded floor, ignoring Wade’s low chuckle behind him. As he approached, she turned slightly, her gaze sweeping over the crowd until it landed on him. Her smile faltered, surprise flickering in her eyes before she quickly masked it, her face shifting into something more guarded.

“Logan,” she said, her tone cautious, almost as if she were bracing herself. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling out of place, unsure what to say. “Yeah. Didn’t expect to see you either,” he replied, his voice gruffer than he intended. “You… uh, you look different.” He instantly regretted it, realizing how awkward it sounded.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Different?”

“Good different,” he amended quickly, his cheeks warming. Real smooth, Logan, he thought, mentally kicking himself. 

She glanced away, a faint frown tugging at her lips.“Thanks I guess,” she said, then gestured to her friend, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed interest. “I’m just here with my friend, Monica. She thought it was a good idea for girls’ night and dragged me out.” He could see a flash of uncomfortableness before she masked it.

Logan nodded, his mind racing, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a fool. But before he could gather his thoughts, her friend nudged her playfully, smirking at Logan.

“So, this is the guy you told me about?” Monica asked, her eyes dancing with mischief.

She shot Monica a warning look, her cheeks flushing. “I… I didn’t tell you that much,” she muttered, casting a quick, embarrassed glance at Logan.

A flicker of hope stirred in his chest. She talked about me? He tried not to let it show, but the thought sent a spark through him, making him stand a little straighter.

Monica gave her a knowing smile, then leaned closer to Logan, lowering her voice. “Just so you know, she’s been playing hard to get for a reason. But maybe she’s finally ready to let someone in.”

Logan looked at her, the guarded woman he’d met behind the bar now looking distinctly uncomfortable, her cheeks flushed a warm pink. She looked away, biting her lip, and he realized she was just as thrown off-balance as he was.

For a moment, they stood in silence, the thrum of the club’s music pulsing around them, the energy of the room fading into the background. All he could see was her—her flushed cheeks, the slight nervousness in her gaze, the softness in her expression that he’d never seen before.

Monica sighed dramatically, looking between them with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Oh, look at that. I need another drink,” she announced, clearly not needing one at all. She winked at her friend. “Plus, I think I see a cute guy over there. You two… have fun.” With one last grin, she slipped away, disappearing into the crowd and leaving them alone.

Logan took a steadying breath, forcing himself to look her in the eyes, to say what he’d been meaning to since their last conversation. “Listen… about the other night,” he began, voice low and careful. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She hesitated, searching his face. He held her gaze, hoping she could see he meant it. For a moment, he thought he saw the walls she kept around herself soften, just a little. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the thrum of the music. “It’s just… I’m not used to people getting involved in my life.”

Logan nodded, understanding more than he could put into words. “I’m not exactly used to… letting people in either.” The confession felt strange on his tongue, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t planned, but it was the truth. He could see that she understood, her expression shifting from guarded to something softer, that made his heart beat a little faster.

They stood there, inches apart, the pulse of the club and the chatter of people fading into the background. Logan wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, to bridge that last bit of distance between them, but he held back, waiting for her lead.

After a moment, she gave him a tentative smile. “Did Wade drag you out here?” she asked, the tension easing just a bit as a hint of humor crept into her voice.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “What makes you think that?”

She shrugged, glancing away shyly. “You don’t… you’re like me,” she said, fumbling over her words. “I just didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy who’d want to go to a club.”

He smiled, trying to put her at ease. “I go to bars all the time. Almost the same thing, right?”

She let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t drink, but Monica always drags me out, says it’s ‘good for me.’” She made air quotes, rolling her eyes slightly.

“I know.” Logan’s face went hot. “I mean, I remember you don’t drink. That’s why… well, I guess that’s why I was surprised to see you here.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his footing. “But you look… different tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow, her expression growing cautious. “You already said that. Do you make it a habit to repeat yourself?”

Logan fumbled for the right words, suddenly feeling like a teenager on his first date. “I mean…you look beautiful tonight,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. His gaze flicked over her, taking her in again.

She went very still, her eyes searching his face. For a second, he thought he’d finally broken through to her, that maybe she could see how much he meant it. But then her expression shifted, her lips pressing together, her eyes hardening. She looked down, and he could see her shoulders tense, her arms wrapping around herself as if she were closing off.

“Oh,” she said quietly, a forced, brittle smile tugging at her lips. “So… what? I only look beautiful when I’m dressed up? When I’m… like this?”

Logan’s eyes widened, realization hitting him like a slap. “No—no, that’s not what I meant.”

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper as she looked away. “I knew it was stupid to come out tonight,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Guess I’m just someone you feel sorry for? Want to just take pity on?”

“Hey, no—” Logan reached for her arm instinctively, but she pulled back, her face turning away to hide the tears welling in her eyes. The sight made his chest tighten, guilt flooding him as he realized just how badly he’d misstepped.

“I thought maybe…” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, brushing a hand quickly across her cheek. “Never mind.” She looked back at him, her eyes glossy, her expression one of hurt and frustration. “Forget it, Logan. I don’t need this.”

“Wait,” he said, desperate now, his voice thick with regret. “It’s not pity. I just… I wanted you to know that I—”

She didn’t let him finish. With a tight, broken smile, she turned on her heel, pushing her way through the crowd and disappearing into the pulsing mass of bodies on the dance floor. He stood there, frozen, watching her slip away, her silhouette vanishing into the blur of lights and movement.

Logan felt an ache settle deep in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in. He’d tried so hard to find the right thing to say, to make her see how he felt—but all he’d done was confirm her worst fears, making her feel like he only saw her worth when she was dressed up, made up, transformed into someone she thought he’d want.

He stood there for a moment, lost in the noise and the lights, feeling the regret gnawing at him like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

Behind him, Wade sidled up, taking in Logan’s expression with a low whistle. “Well, that looked like it went well.”

Logan glared at him, too frustrated to respond. Wade shook his head, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Man, you’re really a disaster with women, you know that?”

Logan clenched his fists, ignoring Wade’s taunts as he scanned the crowd, hoping for another glimpse of her, even though he knew she wouldn’t want to see him right now. He’d messed up, probably worse than he’d ever messed up anything before. But he couldn’t just leave it like this. Not when she was the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind.

Without a word to Wade, he pushed through the crowd, determination hardening in his chest. He didn’t know how he was going to fix this, but he knew one thing—he wasn’t going to let her slip away again. Not like this.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan spotted her near the dimly lit hallway by the bathrooms, sitting on the floor with her legs curled up to her chest, her face buried in her arms. The sight stopped him. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and the thought that he’d been the one to put that hurt in her eyes twisted something painful inside him. He knew he should leave her alone—she’d already told him to. But he couldn’t. Not when he felt the ache of her words as if they’d been carved into him.

He took a cautious step closer, clearing his throat. “Hey… I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the muffled thump of music from the club. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She looked up, her eyes red and swollen from crying, and the guilt hit him all over again. Her gaze was sharp, guarded, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath it—a weariness like she was tired of feeling this way.

“Just go away, Logan,” she said, her voice wavering as she hugged her knees tighter. “Haven’t you done enough?”

He wanted to reach out, to touch her shoulder, anything to make this right, but he held back, forcing himself to respect her space. “Please,” he said, his voice rough. “Just… hear me out. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She let out a bitter laugh, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s not your fault,” she said, cutting him off. Her voice was shaky and raw, but there was a surprising steadiness underneath like she was trying to take control of her pain. “I… I overthink things. I read too much into what people say.”

Logan shook his head, his brow furrowing. “But I should’ve been more careful with my words. I—”

“It’s not about you, Logan,” she interrupted, her gaze dropping to the floor. She took a shaky breath as if she were forcing herself to let him see a piece of herself she usually kept hidden. “All my life, I’ve only ever felt… I don’t know, noticed… when I was all dressed up. People would tell me I was beautiful, but only when I was like this,” she gestured to her dress, her makeup, the polished version of herself that she’d put on tonight. “And somewhere along the line, I guess I just started to believe that’s all there was to me. That if I wasn’t done up, I didn’t… matter.”

Logan’s chest tightened as he listened, his discomfort fading in the face of her honesty. He understood, more than she realized. He knew what it felt like to wear a mask, to be seen in a way that didn’t match who you were.

“Look, I get it,” he said softly, his voice thick. “I know what it’s like to feel like… like you’re on the outside. Like people only see a part of you and ignore the rest.”

She let out a short, almost bitter laugh, her gaze flicking over him, taking in the rugged, handsome man who had sat next to her. “You? An outsider?” she said, the skepticism clear in her voice. “Come on, Logan. Look at you. How could someone like you know what it feels like to not… fit?”

He swallowed, feeling the old scars hidden beneath the surface ache in response to her words. “You’d be surprised,” he murmured, his gaze distant for a moment as he stared at the wall across from them. “People see what they want to see. This…” He gestured vaguely to himself, his broad shoulders, his gruff exterior. “It’s just armor. Doesn’t mean I fit in. Doesn’t mean I feel at home anywhere.”

She went quiet, studying him with a new kind of curiosity, like she was seeing a side of him she hadn’t expected. Her expression softened, and for a moment, the two of them sat in silence, the thumping bass of the club seeming to fade into the background, leaving them in their own little world.

“I didn’t know…” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.

Logan shrugged, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I’m not saying it’s the same. Just… I get it. You feel like you have to be something else, just to be seen. But you don’t. You’re worth a hell of a lot more than some fancy dress and makeup.”

She blinked, looking down, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “I… I don’t know how to believe that,” she admitted, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

He felt a strange surge of protectiveness, an urge to make her see herself the way he did. “You don’t have to believe it all at once,” he said softly. “Just… start small. You’re here, right? That’s a start.”

She looked up at him, a faint glimmer of hope mixed with hesitation in her eyes. “You really think so?”

Logan nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Yeah. I do.” He hesitated, then added, “And for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean that you’re only beautiful like this. I meant… I just meant that you looked happy. You looked… free. That’s what I saw.”

A soft, surprised smile tugged at her lips, and he felt a flicker of relief, like maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t ruined everything.

“I guess… I guess I did feel a little free tonight,” she admitted, her voice tentative, like she was still testing the idea out.

They sat there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Logan felt the weight of her gaze, his eyes shifting to look down at her glossy lips. He didn’t understand why it stirred something deep inside him. 

Finally, she looked away, clearing her throat. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing up at him with a tentative smile. “For… understanding. And for not letting me just sit here feeling sorry for myself.”

“Anytime,” Logan replied, his voice a soft, steady rumble, grounding her.

They stayed like that, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her shoulder, neither of them moving to fill the space between them. It was rare for him to feel like this—like he could just be here, be himself, and have that be enough. She seemed to relax, letting herself breathe in his presence, a hint of comfort settling into her expression.

But then her friend’s voice sliced through the moment, loud and slightly tipsy, echoing down the hallway. “There you are!” Monica stumbled to a halt, her eyes narrowing the second she noticed the red around her friend’s eyes, the tear tracks still faintly visible on her cheeks. Monica’s gaze shot to Logan, her eyes flashing with instant, protective suspicion. “What the hell? Did this guy—”

She quickly got to her feet, hands up in reassurance, cheeks flushing. “No, no, it’s fine,” she said, glancing back at Logan with an apologetic look. “Logan didn’t do anything.”

Monica crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “You swear? Because I’m pretty sure I could kick his ass, even if he’s big.”

Logan almost laughed, but he held back, just giving a slight shake of his head. “I’m harmless,” he muttered, though the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Monica narrowed her eyes, looking between them with obvious doubt. “Fine. I’ll let it go… for now.” She slipped her arm around her friend’s shoulders, lowering her voice. “But hey, I found someone way more fun than this brooding guy. He’s tall, dark, and cute as hell,” Monica said, shooting Logan a sideways look. “Let’s go, yeah?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering back to Logan, lingering there for a moment. He could see the indecision in her eyes, the hint of a question, like she wasn’t entirely ready to walk away. Part of him wanted to reach out, to tell her to stay, to keep talking, but he bit the words back. He knew she didn’t owe him anything, and he wasn’t about to guilt her into staying.

She gave him a small, reluctant smile, a little sad around the edges. “I… I’ll see you around, Logan,” she said softly like she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Yeah,” he replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Take care.”

With one last glance, she let Monica tug her back toward the crowded, neon-lit main room, disappearing into the sea of people. Logan stayed where he was, the ache in his chest unfamiliar and raw. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, but he’d seen the uncertainty in her eyes, the pull between her friend and whatever connection they’d shared just moments before. And he couldn’t blame her for choosing the friend who’d stood by her through who-knew-what, instead of the stranger who’d stumbled into her life.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He’d almost forgotten why he was even here, but the reality of it settled back over him like a cold splash of water. The mission. The damn journalist.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself off the wall, heading back into the main area to find Wade, hoping he’d at least managed to keep his eye on their target. But as he scanned the crowd, a familiar laugh caught his attention, coming from the back corner of the club.

He sighed, already knowing what he’d find.

Sure enough, Wade was slouched in a booth with some girl draped over him, her fingers tangled in his hair, her lipstick smudged against his cheek. They were laughing, Wade’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist, clearly oblivious to everything else.

Logan clenched his fists, feeling a fresh wave of irritation rise. He pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of the booth, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to be working, remember?”

Wade looked up, still grinning, completely unbothered. “Oh, hey, Logan!” he slurred, throwing an arm out as if he were inviting Logan to join in on the fun. “Lighten up, man. Haven’t seen you all night. What, were you off getting cozy with your lady friend?”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “We have a job to do, Wade. You know, finding the journalist? Stryker’s going to be thrilled if we come back empty-handed because you were too busy making out in the corner.”

Wade just laughed, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Relax, Logan. We’ve been chasing this guy for weeks, and he hasn’t shown up once. If he’s even here, he’s not coming out till way later. Might as well have a little fun while we wait.”

Logan shot a glare at Wade’s “date,” who giggled and nuzzled closer, clearly not bothered by the tension. He felt his patience snap, his frustration boiling over. All night, he’d been on edge, caught between his need to finish the job and the emotions he couldn’t quite bury when it came to her. And now here was Wade, throwing it all away for a quick thrill.

“Fine,” Logan bit out, his voice low. “You go ahead and have your fun, Wade. I’m finishing this myself.”

Wade chuckled, unfazed. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that, man. It’s just one night. Besides…” He shot Logan a knowing look. “I saw the way you looked at her. Maybe you should be thanking me. Gave you a chance to make a move.”

Logan didn’t respond, but Wade’s words hit uncomfortably close to the truth. He had been distracted. He’d let his focus slip, and now he was paying for it.

Without another word, Logan turned on his heel and stalked away, pushing through the crowd toward the exit. The night air hit him like a slap, cool and bracing, but it didn’t do much to ease the frustration roiling inside him. He’d let Wade derail the mission, let his own emotions cloud his judgment, and now the whole thing felt like a waste.

As he started down the street, his mind drifted back to her—the way she’d looked at him, the faint trace of hurt in her eyes before she’d walked away. He clenched his fists, a new determination hardening in his chest. He might have blown this mission tonight, but he wasn’t done. Not with the mission, and not with her.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan had barely made it back to the apartment before exhaustion took hold, weighing down his limbs. He kicked off his boots and peeled off his shirt, letting it drop carelessly to the floor before sinking onto the bed. His mind was still tangled with thoughts of her—her quiet smile, the guarded look in her eyes, the way she’d walked away with her friend’s encouragement. He’d messed things up, and the night felt like one long series of missed chances.

He’d only been asleep for a couple of hours when a noise jolted him awake. At first, he thought it was part of some half-formed nightmare or maybe just the usual racket from one of the neighbors. But then he caught something familiar—her voice, muffled through the thin walls. He strained his hearing, every instinct snapping to attention. A glance at the grimy clock on his nightstand told him it was 1:29 a.m.

She must have just gotten home. But she wasn’t alone.

Logan sat up, his heartbeat quickening. He knew he should let it go, should just lie back down and ignore whatever was happening on the other side of the wall. But before he could think better of it, he slipped out of bed, padding across the creaky floorboards to the front door. He pressed his ear to the wall, barely breathing, his heightened senses picking up every word.

The guy’s voice was low and easy, with that too-smooth tone Logan had learned to distrust. He sounded friendly enough, but there was an edge of expectation, a subtle suggestion that grated against Logan’s nerves.

“So… tonight was fun,” the guy was saying, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Maybe we could do it again? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Logan could picture her expression without even seeing it—those walls going up, that faint, polite smile she used when she didn’t want to let someone in. He heard her let out a soft sigh.

“I’m… not really sure about tomorrow,” she replied, her voice guarded, cautious. “I have a lot going on.”

The guy chuckled, but there was a forced quality to it. “Come on, just a drink or something. You don’t have to play so hard to get, you know?”

Logan felt his jaw clench, his hands curling into fists at his sides. The guy was pushing, trying to wear down her resistance, and it grated on him like sandpaper. He didn’t like the way it sounded, didn’t like the edge in the guy’s voice like he thought he could charm his way past her boundaries. Logan’s instinct to protect her flared, raw, and almost territorial, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way.

There was a pause, and he could hear her shifting, probably stepping back, putting a little distance between them. “It’s not that,” she said, a little too politely. “I just… need some space, that’s all. Tonight was nice, but—”

“Space, huh?” the guy interrupted, his tone slipping from charming to something a little sharper. “You know, you don’t make it easy, do you?”

Logan could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, the urge to step outside and tell this guy to back off building with each word. But he held himself in check, forcing himself to stay silent, to let her handle it. She didn’t need him barging in like some kind of white knight, as much as he wanted to.

Another pause, and he heard her take a breath, steady but firm. “I appreciate tonight. Really. But I’m not looking for… anything serious.”

The guy let out a huff, barely masking his disappointment. “All right,” he said, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t happy about it. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

Logan listened, tense, as he heard the guy’s footsteps retreating down the hallway. Only when he heard the click of her door closing did he let out the breath he’d been holding. His fists unclenched, but the tension in his chest didn’t ease. He knew she’d handled it. She didn’t need him intervening. But the way the guy had pushed, the subtle pressure in his tone… made Logan’s blood simmer.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped into the hallway, moving quietly until he reached her door. He hesitated, one hand raised, hovering just above the wood. Part of him knew he should just let it be, go back to his apartment, and leave her alone. But he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him, the urge to make sure she was really all right.

He knocked, softly at first, then a little louder when he didn’t hear anything.

A moment later, the door cracked open, and she peered out, eyes widening when she saw him. She looked tired, her makeup smudged, a faint crease of worry lingering between her brows. “Logan?” she said, sounding surprised, her voice soft and uncertain. “What are you…?”

He swallowed, his voice coming out rougher than he’d meant. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay. I heard him… y’know. Talking.”

She sighed, glancing back into her apartment for a moment before opening the door a little wider. “You were listening?” she asked, a faint hint of annoyance in her tone.

Logan shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just… wanted to make sure he didn’t give you any trouble.”

She looked at him, her expression softening, the guardedness melting away just a little. “It’s fine, Logan. Really. He was… nice, mostly. Just… maybe he wanted something I’m not ready to give.”

Logan nodded, relief mingling with an odd sense of satisfaction at her words. “Good. That he’s gone, I mean.” He hesitated, then added, quieter, “I just didn’t like the way he sounded. Like he thought he could… push you around.”

Her lips pressed into a faint smile, something close to gratitude in her eyes. “Thanks. But I can handle guys like that.” She let out a tired laugh. “I’ve been handling guys like that for a while now.”

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze searching hers. “Yeah. I know you can.” He paused, then added, almost reluctantly, “But you don’t have to do it alone, y’know. If anyone bothers you… I’m right across the hall.”

She looked up at him, her eyes lingering on his face, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of vulnerability there—a quiet gratitude she wasn’t quite ready to express. But then she shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Logan,” she murmured. “But… I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep an eye on me. I don’t want to be someone’s… responsibility.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I just… I care. That’s all.”

Her eyes softened, and she looked away, swallowing hard. “I don’t see why you care. Why you would…given…we barely know each other.” She paused, carefully considering her words. “But it’s been a long time since someone cared,” she admitted quietly, almost as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Logan could feel the weight of her words hanging in the air. He reached out, his hand hovering just above her shoulder, but he stopped himself, dropping his hand before it made contact.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he said, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here.”

She gave him a small, hesitant smile, a hint of hope breaking through the walls she kept so carefully in place. “Thank you, Logan.”

He nodded, stepping back to give her space, though he didn’t want to leave. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

She nodded, watching him as he turned to go, lingering in the doorway as if part of her didn’t want to close the door just yet. As he walked back to his apartment, he felt something shift in him—a quiet, steady resolve to be there, to be someone she could trust.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan was pacing back and forth in the small, dingy apartment, so agitated that even Wade seemed annoyed for once. Wade lounged on the couch, a magazine in one hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face as he watched Logan wearing a path into the floor.

“Why are you like this?” Wade finally snapped, tossing the magazine aside. “Did your parents not love you, or something? Because this level of brooding is painful to watch, even for me.”

Logan shot him a glare, but he didn’t have a comeback this time. His usual sarcasm was buried under a mess of thoughts he couldn’t quite untangle. He ran a hand through his hair, his voice coming out quieter, almost hesitant. “It’s just… she actually seemed like she wanted to talk to me last night. Like, really talk.”

Wade rolled his eyes, folding his arms behind his head. “God, I don’t see how I keep missing your late-night heart-to-hearts in the hallway,” he said with exaggerated interest. “Sounds like you’re one step away from serenading her or something.”

Logan’s eyes kept drifting to the door, that nagging worry gnawing at him. He hadn’t heard her leave her apartment all morning, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, Wade sat up, giving him a pointed look. “Look, man, there’s only one way to stop acting like a lovesick teenager. Just go knock on her door. You’re driving me nuts over here.”

Logan hesitated, shifting his weight. Part of him hated the idea of just showing up unannounced, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of urgency. He needed to see her, to know she was okay. Before he could talk himself out of it, he gave Wade a grudging nod and headed for the door.

"Finally," Wade muttered behind him, smirking. "Go get her, tiger."

Logan ignored him, stepping into the dim hallway. He crossed the few steps to her apartment, his hand hovering just above the door. He took a breath, steadying himself, then knocked—softly at first, then louder when there was no response.

Silence.

He waited, his heartbeat picking up as seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. He knocked again, pressing his ear to the door, straining to hear any movement inside. But there was nothing. No footsteps, no soft shuffle of her usual routine. An uneasy feeling crept over him. He hadn’t heard her leave that morning. Had he missed something? Was she—

Just then, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps echoing up the stairwell, and he turned, relief flooding him. But the relief was short-lived, quickly turning into confusion as he took in the scene.

She was coming up the stairs, but she wasn’t alone. Walking beside her was the guy from last night—the one her friend had set her up with. The guy was laughing, leaning a little too close to her, and Logan felt his jaw tighten instinctively. She had her arms crossed, her posture guarded but polite, and though she didn’t look particularly comfortable, she wasn’t pushing him away either.

Logan stood frozen, his hand still raised as if to knock, caught between relief and a prickling sense of jealousy. She looked up and noticed him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“Logan,” she said, stopping on the landing. Her voice was a mix of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite place—maybe guilt, or hesitation.

The guy at her side glanced between them, raising an eyebrow. “Oh… hey,” he said, clearly picking up on the tension in the air. He smiled awkwardly, extending a hand. “I’m Jared. I, uh… guess you’re a neighbor?”

Logan didn’t take his hand, barely sparing him a glance. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and rough. His eyes were fixed on her, searching her face, trying to read her expression.

She shifted uncomfortably, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “We… just ran into each other downstairs,” she explained, her gaze flicking between Logan and Jared. “He was just walking me up.”

Jared chuckled, clearly oblivious to the undercurrent in the air. “Yeah, thought I’d make sure she got back safe, y’know? This neighborhood’s not exactly the friendliest.”

Logan felt a surge of irritation, but he forced himself to stay calm, to keep his expression neutral. “She can handle herself,” he replied, the words coming out sharper than he intended. He saw her flinch and instantly regretted it, but he couldn’t help the tension coiling in his chest.

Jared blinked, clearly sensing he wasn’t welcome, and took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right, man. No need to get territorial,” he said with a forced laugh. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He turned to her, flashing a hopeful smile. “So… maybe we could catch up tomorrow? Grab a coffee or something?”

She hesitated, glancing briefly at Logan before nodding, though her smile looked a little forced. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll… let you know.”

Jared grinned, clearly taking that as a yes, and gave a little wave before heading back down the stairs. Logan watched him go, barely breathing until the sound of his footsteps faded completely. Only then did he turn to her, his expression softening as he searched her face.

“Did… you need something?” she asked, her gaze lingering on him, one eyebrow raised in quiet suspicion.

Logan cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to knock on her door, but now that he was here, his brain seemed to be working at half-speed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and forcing himself to meet her eyes. “I was wondering if you had… y’know… some eggs I could borrow.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but he saw the faintest flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Eggs?” she repeated like she was testing the word.

Logan felt himself growing more flustered. “Yeah. Eggs. They’re… good for protein,” he added lamely, the words sounding as awkward out loud as they felt in his head.

She watched him for a moment, clearly trying to decide if she believed him or not. A small, skeptical smile played at the corner of her lips like she could see right through his excuse but was willing to humor him.

“Sure. I think I’ve got some,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in while I go grab them from the kitchen.”

Logan hesitated, then nodded, slipping past her into the apartment. The warmth of her space hit him immediately, and he found himself surprised by how… homey it was. The faint scent of vanilla and something floral hung in the air, and soft lighting cast a cozy glow over everything. It was nothing like the dingy, bare-bones apartment he shared with Wade. Where his walls were chipped and peeling, hers were lined with neatly hung prints and framed photographs, small touches that gave the place a warmth he hadn’t expected.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, he let his gaze wander, taking in the shelves along one wall, filled with books. Dozens of them, all stacked neatly, some with worn covers and dog-eared pages, like they’d been read and re-read over the years. He noticed a mix of genres—mystery novels, classic literature, a few non-fiction titles, and even some poetry. It was the kind of collection that spoke to someone who spent a lot of time alone, lost in worlds beyond these walls.

He moved closer to one of the shelves, fingers ghosting over the spines without touching. A few books were stacked horizontally, others arranged by height. There was a kind of organized chaos to it, a personal touch that made him feel like he was seeing a side of her he hadn’t glimpsed before. He felt a strange pang of… something. Envy, maybe, or admiration. This was her space, her sanctuary, carefully built to be hers. And here he was, intruding on it.

“Didn’t peg you for a reader,” her voice came from behind him, light and teasing.

Logan turned, a bit flustered, caught off guard by her sudden reappearance. She held a carton of eggs in one hand, watching him with that same amused expression, like she knew he was lying about the whole “egg” thing but was willing to let it slide.

“I, uh…” He scratched the back of his head, feeling like he’d been caught red-handed. “Not really. Don’t have time for it.”

She shrugged, giving him a small smile as she set the egg carton on the counter. “Reading isn’t for everyone.”

He nodded, still taking in her apartment, feeling a strange comfort settle over him in the warmth of her space. “It’s… nice in here,” he admitted, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Didn’t expect it to feel so… I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So what?”

“Homey, I guess,” he said, almost embarrassed to admit it. “My place… it’s nothing like this.”

A faint, sympathetic smile softened her face. “Well, your roommate doesn’t exactly scream ‘homey,’” she teased, glancing around as if imagining Wade sprawled across her carefully arranged furniture, disrupting the calm. “Not really surprised you don’t put much into decorating.”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Yeah. Wade’s more… chaos than cozy.”

She laughed softly, a genuine, relaxed sound that made his chest feel unexpectedly warm. “I can’t even picture him reading a book.”

“Pretty sure he’d complain about the ‘small font’ and give up in five minutes,” Logan muttered, and she laughed again, a light, melodic sound that filled the space in a way that felt… right.

For a moment, they stood there in comfortable silence, the unspoken tension between them somehow lessened by the simple act of sharing a space. He glanced at the egg carton, feeling a little foolish now that he had no real reason to stay.

“Thanks for the eggs,” he mumbled, reaching for the carton but not quite moving to leave. “Didn’t need them, if I’m honest.”

She tilted her head, a knowing look in her eyes. “Yeah, I figured,” she said, her voice gentle but laced with amusement. “So… why did you come by?”

Logan hesitated, feeling a sudden vulnerability he wasn’t used to. “I guess… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. After last night, and then seeing you with that guy this morning…” He trailed off, running a hand over his face. “It just didn’t sit right with me.”

Her expression softened, and she looked down, fingers tracing absent patterns on the counter. “Jared,” she said as if the name left a sour taste. “Monica’s idea. She thinks I need to ‘put myself out there.’” She rolled her eyes, a faint bitterness creeping into her tone. “It’s not really my thing, but… I figured I’d try.”

Logan studied her, catching the flicker of doubt in her eyes. “You didn’t seem too thrilled with him,” he observed, trying to keep his tone casual.

She shrugged, her smile a little sad. “He’s… nice. I just don’t know if ‘nice’ is enough.” She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary. “I guess I’ve got my own walls. Maybe it’s easier to push people away than to… let them in.”

Logan felt his chest tighten, recognizing himself in her words. “Yeah. I know how that goes,” he murmured, his voice low. “People tend to… make assumptions, think they know you just because of how you look or act. Sometimes it’s easier to let them believe what they want.”

She nodded, her gaze dropping again, her fingers still tracing absent shapes on the counter. “And what do people assume about you?” she asked, almost too softly.

He swallowed, feeling a familiar pang of vulnerability that he usually kept buried. “They see… this,” he said, gesturing to himself, to the rough exterior, the scars that lined his knuckles, the tension that seemed to live in his shoulders. “And they think I’m nothing but that. Just… rough edges. An animal.”

She looked up, her gaze soft and understanding, and he felt that ache again, the need to be seen, really seen. “You’re not just that,” she said quietly, her words barely more than a whisper. “I can see that you're more than that…now.”

A warmth lingered between them, subtle but undeniable. Logan could feel it settling over him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. Standing here, in her space, surrounded by traces of her life, he felt an unfamiliar sense of belonging—like, for once, he wasn’t just some outsider passing through.

She let out a small sigh, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Anyway,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, almost shy. “Thanks for checking on me.”

He nodded, swallowing back the impulse to reach out, to close the last inch of space between them. “Yeah. Anytime,” he said, his voice softer than he intended.

She led him to the door, holding it open as he stepped into the dim hallway. Logan hesitated, lingering just outside her apartment, feeling a strange reluctance to leave. The words were out of his mouth before he could second-guess himself.

“Would you… maybe want to come over?” He forced a small, awkward smile. “I’m sure Wade would love the company.”

She looked up at him, her expression caught between surprise and something softer. A small smile touched her lips, but she shook her head, a hint of apology in her eyes. “I would, but… being around people sort of… drains me.”

He watched her, sensing there was more she wasn’t saying, something fragile behind the simple explanation.

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the door, her gaze flickering up to meet his. “Not you, though,” she added softly, almost as if the words had slipped out without her permission. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away quickly. “Just… people in general. Introvert thing, I guess.”

Logan felt a flicker of something warm and unfamiliar in his chest. She hadn’t meant to single him out, but the admission hung in the air between them, as delicate and unsteady as a breath. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “No problem.”

She looked back up at him, a softness in her eyes that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to let him in. It wasn’t much—not yet—but it was enough to make his pulse quicken, to make him feel like he’d taken a step closer to something he’d been chasing without even knowing it.

“See you, Logan,” she whispered, her voice lingering in the quiet air, her eyes holding his for just a beat longer than necessary.

“See you,” he replied, his voice equally soft, reluctant. He took a step back, the warmth of her presence already beginning to fade, and gave her a small nod before turning away.

As he made his way down the hallway, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—a door, barely open, but open nonetheless.

[ethan-acfan]

⚠️sound on its much funnier that way⚠️

[wolvertooth]

(X-Men 1.5)

tyler mane CLEARLY saying 'oh baby!' in response.......they know. they fucking know. they KNOWWWWWW release the sabrevine cut.

[sulfies]

"Madré, where the fuck did he drop from"

[teecupangel]

New reincarnation idea: Desmond is reborn as Caterina! I have no other details. Just thought it was a interesting idea.

I’m thinking of a way we can keep Desmond from just running away as soon as he can and trying to find Ezio or the Auditores XD

Like, sure, we can make him stay put at the age of 10 when he’ll get married to the then pope’s nephew but there’s no way in hell he’s going to stay and consummate that marriage at the age of 14.

Especially considering that his husband would be around 30 years old when they got married.

To be completely honest, Desmond would definitely assassinate his husband at the earliest convenience for him.

Especially once he remembered that his husband is a Templar.

If he does end up killing his husband (which he probably will), he’d either run away and be known as his husband’s killer or he stays put and pin the kill to a close ally of his husband or a fellow Templar. And take over his husband’s titles.

Or…

Because they have never consummated their marriage, Desmond would be returned to Duke Galeazzo Maria Sforza.

He’d be worried that his dear father would marry him off again but the duke just let him stay by his side and even start to teach him.

Desmond wasn’t sure what the duke thought but there were already rumors that it was ‘Caterina Sforza’ that killed his own husband and Desmond was wondering if that was the reason why the duke wasn’t planning to marry him off again.

Because of this…

Desmond was there when the Templars try to kill his father.

And he comes face to face with Giovanni Auditore.