#easy to blend and layer
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
seaofreverie · 3 months ago
Text
Sparkstember Day 30: Whatever!
Tumblr media
Unbelievable... I told myself that I'd do something (something pretty damn ambitious for what I usually manage to do at that) and then I actually did it! I hope you liked the posts because I really loved preparing them!! <3 Sparks mean so much to me, which is probably very easy to see by now, haha... So I'm glad I could celebrate that with you all for this entire month!
I think this is also a good time to say thank you to this whole fandom... Because as someone who was once seriously the MOST anxious person on earth that you could possibly imagine, who couldn't even bear to be perceived by anyone or participate in any community, I feel so lucky to have you all!! I've been here for only about 4 months, but it feels like much much longer than that, because my life is completely different now in a major way. I'm no longer so terribly scared to do things I want and express myself openly, and this whole month was also an amazing opportunity for the latter! And now I truly feel stronger and more ready to face new challenges and try new things than ever before! <3 Also, thank you to the folks who have shown me support when I really needed it over those past couple of months, because without you it would have been a much much harder time :) :')
Thank you all once more and see you NOT next year, I mean, yeahhhh I'll see you next year during the next Sparkstember that's true, but I can assure you that I'll still be sparksposting and sharing more doodles in the meantime!! Never putting a stop to that! :] Hooray for Sparks and this amazing fandom! ✨️✨️✨️
(And here's all the drawings which I framed like I said I would lol. Looking at them now will always remind me of all the amazingness of this year's Sparkstember!)
Tumblr media
31 notes · View notes
oldmanffucker · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
1.5 hr sketch of crying izzy 🫶🏼💖
61 notes · View notes
amphibianaday · 2 years ago
Note
do you approach your art as pixel art or as low resolution digital art? or something else entirely
a little bit of both, but mostly just regular drawing/painting with some "pixel arting" tiny details like pupils and nostrils. Any really small or thin shape i'll draw in and tweak individual pixel until i'm happy with the shape
i just love the gritty texture you get with a pixel brush :)
69 notes · View notes
milkweedman · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's not the best picture (had to up the contrast like crazy to pick up any colors, so imagine the colors of the second picture and the clouds of the first) but the sunset was beautiful today. Tried to make a batt that looked a little like it but in the end got a bit carried away with the silk.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's mostly an unidentified pink longwool, various colors of dyed ryå lambswool, mohair, and silk. Theres also a bit of what i assume is merino and some of the gray southdown that i just recieved in the mail. I intended to just pull it off as punis, but I got one and it was almost impossible to remove from the sticks, so i just pulled it off as a batt after that.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The puni (forgot to use flash) as i pulled it off, and then once drafted out a bit into a spinnable form. The colors and shine of the second one are much more accurate to life.
Eta: have been spinning the puni on a supported spindle and am here to report it is an absolute misery to spin in that it involves lots of pulling really hard to draft. I think it might be better on my wheel where i have more space (rly long staple length + supported spindle where my hands are never more than 6 inches apart while spinning = no draft. only pull.)
24 notes · View notes
sheirukitriesfandom · 1 year ago
Text
I must say the best piece of advice I can give people wanting to start with oil paint is:
Lose the respect for the medium.
When I started with oils I thought "ooh it's the pinnacle of painting so I have to be super careful, plan everything, get all those tools and additives and... And..." — Bullshit!
Oil is the most of forgiving medium I've worked with so far. Thin it down, thicken it up, blend it on canvas if you want and if you don't like something? Let it dry and paint over it. You can't really do that with most mediums. Even charcoal and pencil are potentially harder to correct.
Tl;dr: Stop fussing, get yourself some paint and fool around 😃
3 notes · View notes
ridikaislamsblog · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
wekillitwithfire · 9 months ago
Text
i’ve been getting back into art and using my sketchbook more lately and it’s been so nice. i mean the drawings i’m making aren’t nice you guys are NOT going to see that shit. but lately i’ve really felt inspired to just make stuff and play around with different mediums & materials
1 note · View note
fuckingrecipes · 4 months ago
Note
Do you have advice on the art of sandwiches? I feel like i my best sandwich at home is still leagues below the worst sandwich ive bought at a restaurant
Since sandwiches are infinitely variable, I'm going to assume you're trying to make my favorite sandwich: the Turkey Club, sandwich style not sub style.
Your goal is to MAXIMIZE FLAVOR.
Thicker bread. Standard slice size for bread isn't going to cut it, here. You want thick-slice bread.
Sourdough, or French Bread not 'White' bread. You want it chewy, with a thicker crust. Hearty.
Extra-Heavy Mayo. Restaurants do not use standard mayo from the grocery. Extra-heavy mayo has a higher ratio of egg yolks, giving it a richer flavor and thicker consistency for both spreading and using in tuna or egg salad. It's also more of a warm ivory color, rather than 'white.'
Instead of yellow deli mustard, try a ground-whole-seed mustard. It has a spicier, richer profile, and a little more vinegar.
Be generous with condiments. You're making a good sandwich, not cutting calories.
SEASON your sandwich. Dust the vegetables - salt and pepper goes a long way! Dried oregano, onion powder, garlic powder are also champs. My fave is to take a spicy blend (like a fajita seasoning blend) and sprinkle generously over the mayo before adding other stuff.
Lettuce CRUNCH is important. Include the pale crispy parts in your sandwich, not just the soft green leaf parts. Use romaine and arugula, not 'iceburg' lettuce, which has next to zero flavor.
If you're using texture leafy greens like arugula, toss it in a vinaigrette before piling it onto the sandwich. The vinegar zing makes a statement.
The tomato should have a strong flavor of its own. Salt & pepper on ripe tomato is heavenly. Make sure your seasoning hits the tomato.
If you're adding onion, make sure the slices are super duper thin-sliced. Like, mandolin-thin. Translucent-thin. Red onion is king.
If you want it toasted, make sure the cheese and meat gets hot, but the greens/tomato/onion is added afterward so it stays cold and crisp.
Don't be afraid to STACK IT TALL. CRAM IT FULL! How many sandwiches from restaurants feel impossible to fit in your mouth at first glance? Most of 'em. Make it big. With the meat, especially, they often CRAM the meat in there. No single-layer of ham slices here.
It's ok to MIX MEATS. Fry up some bacon (extra crispy!) or crisp up some pepperoni and layer it with your turkey.
Once you're done, wrap your sandwich in parchment paper (not WAX paper, there's a difference), then slice in half. By wrapping it, you force all the ingredients to smush together and start blending flavors. This makes 'em all a little better and stops them from sliding around, so it's easy to get a bite with every ingredient at once, and stops the sandwich from actually falling apart.
--
Honestly, the biggest 'secrets' of sandwich making is:
MAXIMIZE FLAVOR. USE RICHLY FLAVORED INGREDIENTS.
SEASON ALL YOUR SHIT FOR MORE FLAVOR
DON'T BE AFRAID TO PILE ON MORE GOOD SHIT.
2K notes · View notes
mcrdvcks · 2 months ago
Text
I Wanna Be Yours
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: You're a hacker for The Organization, a secret group that is currently working on dismantling a mutant trafficking ring. You've been working with Logan for months but neither of you have met each other in person and he doesn't even know your real name.
Word Count: 14.7k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: this is something i've wanted to do for a while- playing with the idea that logan can totally fall in love with someone just through their voice (and vice versa). i hope y'all enjoy it!
warnings/tags: reader has a code name, pet name (darling), light violence, mentions of (mutant) trafficking, some uses of y/n
Tumblr media
“Bet you look good in that suit.” You say, tapping on your keyboard, hacking into the security cameras of the seedy casino where the deal was taking place.
Logan huffed, covertly adjusting the small earpiece as he blended in with the crowd of the dimly lit casino. His tuxedo felt too tight, but then again, it wasn’t like he was made for fancy suits and shiny shoes.
“Don’t go gettin’ all sentimental, Phantom. This thing barely fits,” he muttered, keeping his voice low and steady. He glanced around, taking in the sight of gamblers, dealers, and a few shifty-looking men gathered near a corner. Probably the ones he was here for.
“Must be hard to hide all those muscles,” you teased through the comm, your voice a steady whisper in his ear. “But I’ll try not to distract you, just this once.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he slipped past a group of laughing tourists. He scanned the room, zeroing in on his target: a short, balding man with an expensive suit and a smug look on his face. Logan’s senses sharpened. He could practically smell the guy’s nervous sweat. This had to be one of the trafficking ring’s major players.
“Any idea where they’re at?” he asked, his tone shifting from playful to serious in an instant.
“Second floor. Private poker room,” you said, enlarging one of the camera feeds to get a better view. “Security’s tighter up there. You’ll need a distraction if you wanna get past those guards.”
Logan glanced at the stairway leading up. Two burly men stood in front, arms crossed, eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. “Can’t just slice my way through ‘em,” he grumbled. “What’ve you got for me, Phantom?”
“Patience,” you teased. “Trust me, I’m working on it.” You typed a few more commands, initiating a loop in the security feed of the second-floor hallway. “You’ve got a 30-second window. Move now.”
Logan didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped through the casino floor, dodging between slot machines and card tables until he reached the base of the stairwell. The guards barely glanced his way as he strolled past, looking for all the world like another high-roller with a chip on his shoulder.
“Almost too easy,” he muttered under his breath, taking the steps two at a time.
“I make it look easy,” you corrected, monitoring the shifting feeds as Logan made his way to the second floor. “Just keep moving. The loop’ll hold, but not for long.”
Logan reached the hallway, his eyes narrowing at the closed door leading to the poker room. He slowed his pace, ears straining to pick up any sounds on the other side. “Tell me you’ve got eyes in there.”
“Not yet, working on it,” you said. “This system’s layered, gonna take a sec.”
Logan let out a quiet growl. “Great. No pressure or anything.”
“Hey, if you’re in such a hurry, I could always—”
“Don’t,” he cut in. “Just—stay on it.” He pressed his back to the wall, inching closer to the door, waiting for your go.
There was a pause, and then, “Got it.” Your voice softened, like you were focusing extra hard. “Four guys in there. Three playing cards, one pacing by the window.”
“Let me guess,” Logan grunted. “The bald one’s pacing.”
“Bingo.”
Logan’s fingers flexed, the subtle urge to unsheathe his claws growing. But this was a delicate operation. No bloodshed if it could be helped.
“You’ve got any ideas how to get me in without turnin’ this into a brawl?” he asked, half-expecting you to come up with something clever.
“I’ve got a couple,” you replied, a smile evident in your tone. “But you won’t like them.”
Logan sighed. “Why do I feel like you’re about to mess with me?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said sweetly, then paused. “Okay, maybe a little. There’s a closet down the hall to your left. Go there.”
He frowned but did as you instructed, slipping into the darkened space, filled with cleaning supplies and boxes. “Now what?”
“Well, I could trigger a fire alarm, but that’s a little loud and obvious. Or, and hear me out, I could disrupt the air conditioning. Make it so hot in there they’ll be begging for an excuse to step outside.”
Logan chuckled under his breath. “That’s your big plan? Make ‘em sweat?”
“Worked on you, didn’t it?” you teased.
“Funny.” He shook his head, glancing at the vent above him. “Think they’ll all leave?”
“Probably not all at once, but it should get the ball rolling. Just be ready. I’ll handle the rest.” Your fingers flew over the keys again, tapping into the building’s climate control system.
After a moment, you heard Logan’s quiet grunt. “Feels like it’s workin’ already.”
“Yeah, I see the temp rising in their room.” You pulled up the camera feed again, watching as one of the guys at the table tugged at his collar, then another wiped at his brow.
“Ten bucks says Mr. Baldy cracks first,” you said, amused.
Logan smirked. “You’re on.”
Not even a minute passed before the bald man swore, yanked off his suit jacket, and threw it on the back of his chair. “I’m stepping out for some air,” you heard him mutter to the others.
Logan’s eyes flicked to the door, his body tense. “Here we go.”
As the door opened, Logan moved fast. He grabbed the guy, pulling him into the closet before he could make a sound. With a quick, non-lethal chokehold, the guy slumped to the ground unconscious. Logan checked his pulse—alive. Good.
“Nice work,” you whispered in his ear. “Bet he’s not going to wake up happy.”
Logan crouched down, frisking the guy’s pockets. “Let’s hope he’s got something useful on him,” he muttered.
“He’s got a keycard,” you said, watching the screen as Logan pulled out the small plastic card. “That should get you into the back office.”
Logan glanced down at the unconscious man. “You were right. I didn’t like your plan.”
You laughed softly through the comms. “You’ll get over it. Now go, before they notice their friend’s gone.”
Logan straightened up, giving the unconscious man one last look before slipping out of the closet. “You better have a plan for what’s next, Phantom.”
“I always do,” you said, smirking as you pulled up the building’s blueprints. “Just follow my lead. Take the hall to your right. There’s an access door near the end. It’ll get you closer to the office.”
Logan moved quickly, the soft thud of his footsteps barely audible. “You sure about this? That door doesn’t look like it’s meant for guests.”
“I’m sure,” you replied confidently. “It’s an employee access. You’ve got the keycard, remember?”
He grunted in response, holding the card up to the reader. The door unlocked with a faint beep. “You really do make this look easy.”
“I try,” you said, voice laced with amusement. “Now, once you’re inside, there’s a small hallway. You’ll want to hang a left, then a quick right. The office is at the end.”
Logan opened the door, slipping into the narrow hallway. “What’s the deal with this office? Anything I should know?”
“Could be where they’re stashing data on the trafficking network. Either that or it's where they’re counting money.” You were typing again, eyes scanning multiple camera feeds. “But I’ve got a good feeling about this.”
“Good feelin’, huh?” Logan muttered, carefully making his way through the corridor. “Hope that feelin’ is worth something.”
“It always is,” you shot back playfully. “You’ve got about a minute before someone notices the guy you knocked out is missin’. So… chop, chop.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan growled, reaching the door to the office. “And you said I was the impatient one.”
Before you could respond, he swiped the keycard again and pushed the door open. Inside, the room was dimly lit, filled with filing cabinets, a desk cluttered with paperwork, and a few old-looking computers. Logan’s nose twitched at the faint scent of stale cigarettes and cologne.
“Jackpot,” you whispered in his ear, pulling up the feed of the room. “There should be a terminal near the desk. Get me plugged in, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Logan looked over at the outdated equipment and scowled. “This stuff’s ancient. Hope you can work with it, Phantom.”
“Please, I’ve hacked worse,” you said, brushing off the concern. “Just get me connected.”
Logan knelt down, finding a small port on the side of the computer and pulling out a cable from his gear. As soon as he plugged it in, your fingers danced across the keyboard, breaking through layers of security.
“There we go,” you murmured. “This’ll take a second. How are things on your end?”
Logan stood back up, glancing around the room. “Quiet. For now.”
“Good, because I’ve got eyes on another guy heading your way,” you warned. “He’s probably checking in on his boss. You might wanna handle him before he stumbles on Baldy.”
Logan’s fists clenched. “Great. Any more good news?”
“Depends. You want the good news or the bad news first?” you asked lightly, your tone casual despite the urgency of the situation.
“Just spit it out.”
“Good news? I’m almost done here. Bad news? You’ve got about thirty seconds before that guy reaches you.”
Logan let out a low growl. “Any suggestions?”
“Well,” you said thoughtfully, “you could go for subtle and knock him out—again. Or you could do the Logan thing and scare the crap out of him.”
Logan smirked. “And here I thought you were gonna say ‘no bloodshed.’”
“I’m flexible,” you teased. “Your call.”
Logan moved toward the door, listening carefully. The approaching footsteps were getting closer. “I’ll try subtle,” he muttered. Then, almost as an afterthought, “for you.”
“Aw, how sweet,” you quipped. “I’ll be sure to remember this moment.”
He cracked the door open just as the guy turned the corner. Logan grabbed him by the collar, yanking him into the room before he could shout. A quick punch to the gut, and the guy doubled over, gasping for air. Logan pressed him against the wall, one hand firmly over his mouth.
“Stay quiet, and I won’t hurt you,” Logan growled, his tone low and threatening.
The guy’s eyes widened, and he gave a shaky nod. Logan let him go, and he slumped to the floor, half-conscious.
“Nice work,” you praised, your voice a soft murmur in his ear. “You’ve still got it.”
“Didn’t lose it,” Logan muttered, stepping over the guy and returning to the desk. “You done yet?”
“Just about,” you said. “And… there. I’ve got everything. You’re good to go.”
Logan disconnected the cable, glancing around the room once more. “And you’re sure this’ll help us track the ring?”
“Positive,” you replied confidently. “Now, get out of there before someone else shows up.”
Logan took one last look at the unconscious man on the floor. “You got a clear path for me?”
“Always,” you said, your fingers flying over the keys again. “Head back the way you came. I’ll loop the cameras again. And don’t worry, I’ll keep them busy downstairs.”
Logan smirked as he stepped back into the hallway. “Sometimes I forget how useful you are.”
“Only sometimes?” you teased.
He chuckled softly. “Don’t push your luck, Phantom.”
You smiled to yourself, watching the feeds as Logan made his way through the building. “Whatever you say, Logan. You owe me one.”
“Add it to the list,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with a hint of amusement.
“Believe me, I am.” You took a bite of your cake, an orange cardamom one you made the other day.
“The hell are you doin’?” Logan asked.
You shrugged, “I’m eatin’. Thought now was a better time than ever. Let’s my fingers have a break. Got a problem, Wolf?” you ask, taking another bite of your cake, your tone teasing through the comm.
Logan’s voice grumbled in your ear, low and irritated. "We're in the middle of a mission, and you’re havin’ dessert?"
"Hey, a girl’s gotta eat," you reply casually, wiping a few crumbs off your keyboard. "I’ve earned it. You’re lucky I’m not eating popcorn with the way this operation’s going. Besides, I’m the one doing the hard work behind the scenes, remember?"
"You’re sittin’ in front of a computer, Phantom," Logan shot back, though you could hear the faintest trace of a smirk in his voice. "Not exactly the front lines."
"Exactly. Where would you be without me?" you retort, savoring another bite of cake. "I’m the reason you’re not punching your way through the entire casino right now."
Logan stayed quiet for a beat. You could imagine him clenching his jaw, trying to decide whether to argue or just let you have your moment. "You done?"
You chuckle softly, leaning back in your chair. "For now. You make it out of there yet?"
"Almost," Logan muttered, his voice low as he moved through the hall. "Place is still crawling with these scumbags. Any chance you can keep ‘em distracted?"
"Already ahead of you," you said, your fingers flying over the keyboard again. "Looping the feeds, and I’ve got a little surprise coming for the main floor. Keep your eyes open."
Logan grunted in response, his boots making soft thuds as he crept through the back corridors. "Surprise, huh? What kind of surprise?"
"You’ll see," you said cryptically, unable to hide the amusement in your tone.
There was a pause before Logan spoke again, quieter this time. "You always this chatty during missions?"
You tilted your head, curious. "Depends on who I’m working with. Some people are all business, no fun. Others… well, they don’t mind a little conversation. Keeps things from getting too tense."
"Huh," Logan responded, noncommittal. But then, after another beat, he added, "Guess it ain’t so bad."
Your eyebrows shot up. "Was that a compliment? Did Wolverine just say something nice?"
"Don’t push it, Phantom," Logan growled, but there was a hint of a smile in his voice.
You grinned to yourself, pleased that you’d gotten under his skin a little. "Alright, alright. I’ll stop before you start getting sentimental on me."
Logan was quiet for a moment, then muttered, "Not much chance of that."
Before you could reply, you heard footsteps in the feed, heading in Logan’s direction. Your tone shifted, all business now. "Logan, hold up. Someone’s coming your way, about twenty feet ahead."
"Great," he grumbled, already moving to the side, pressing himself into the shadows.
You watched the camera feed, tracking the figure’s movement. "Wait… looks like it’s just one guy. Should be easy to handle."
Logan’s low growl rumbled through the comm. "Easy for you to say."
You rolled your eyes, but your focus stayed on the screen. "You’re Wolverine. You’ll be fine. Just make sure he doesn’t see you."
A few seconds passed, and then you heard a soft thud. Logan’s voice came back through the comm, sounding slightly breathless. "Handled."
"See? Told you. Easy," you said smugly.
Logan didn’t respond right away, probably too busy moving again. You kept your eyes on the security feeds, tracking his progress. Finally, you heard his voice, a little softer this time. "Thanks."
Your fingers paused over the keys. "For what?"
"For not gettin’ in the way," he said, almost gruffly, but you could tell he meant it.
You smiled, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "Anytime, Wolf."
There was a brief silence, and then Logan cleared his throat. "So, you gonna tell me what this surprise is, or you just keepin’ me in the dark?"
You leaned forward, grinning. "Oh, right. Almost forgot. Check the main floor in about… five seconds."
Logan didn’t say anything, but you imagined him looking around suspiciously. Then, just as you’d planned, the lights in the main casino flickered before the fire alarms started blaring. You heard Logan’s quiet chuckle through the comm.
"That your idea of subtle?"
"I prefer ‘effective,’" you said, watching as the casino patrons started panicking, scrambling for the exits. "Should give you the distraction you need to get out clean."
Logan let out a low laugh. "I’ll give you that, Phantom. You make one hell of a distraction."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," you teased, though you couldn’t help the slight flush creeping up your neck. "Now hurry up and get out of there before someone starts putting two and two together."
"On it," Logan muttered, the sound of the alarm still faint in the background as he made his way out. "I’m guessin’ you already got us an exit plan?"
You leaned back in your chair, tapping your fingers against the desk. "I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that. Side door, west end of the building. You’ve got about three minutes before the cops show up."
Logan moved swiftly, his footsteps barely audible now. "You really are somethin’ else, y’know that?"
You smirked. "I’ve heard that once or twice."
As Logan slipped through the side door, you watched him disappear from the building’s cameras, your job mostly done. “You’re clear. Ricky wants you to meet him tomorrow morning, 8 sharp for a debrief.”
Logan let out a short grunt. “Ricky, huh? Great. I’ll bring donuts.”
You smiled, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “You could at least try to pretend you’re not completely over these meetings.”
Logan’s voice crackled through the comm, rough but with a hint of humor. “I’m over a lotta things, Phantom. Meetin’s just one of ‘em.”
You leaned back in your chair, stretching out your arms. “Well, don’t be late. You know how Ricky gets when he’s kept waitin’.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan muttered. There was a pause, and then, “What about you? You gonna be there?”
You raised an eyebrow, surprised at the question. “You think I just show up to these things? I’m the behind-the-scenes tech genius, remember? My job’s done.”
Logan huffed. “Yeah, well… guess I figured after all this time, I’d finally meet the mystery hacker.”
There was something in his voice—something almost like curiosity—but you brushed it off with a light laugh. “Aw, are you saying you miss me already, Wolf?”
“Don’t push it,” Logan shot back, though there was a playful edge to his words. “Just seems weird, is all. Workin’ together this long and never even met you face-to-face.”
You paused for a moment, considering his words. It was weird. You’d been guiding Logan through missions for months now, your voices constantly in each other’s ears, but you had never been in the same room. A part of you liked it that way—it kept things professional, detached. Safer. But another part of you… well, maybe you were curious too.
“Maybe one day,” you said lightly, dodging the subject. “But for now, I think it’s better this way. Keeps the mystery alive, right?”
Logan snorted. “Yeah, real mysterious. You sittin’ there eatin’ cake while I’m out here doin’ the heavy liftin’.”
You smirked. “It’s called multitasking, Logan. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
Before he could respond, a soft beep on your computer alerted you that the building’s security systems were coming back online. The loop you’d created was about to end.
“Looks like my window’s closing,” you said, typing a few last commands. “Everything’s going back to normal on their end. You’re officially off the radar.”
“Good. Was gettin’ sick of the place anyway,” Logan muttered. You could hear the sound of traffic now, indicating he was out on the street. “You sure you don’t wanna show up tomorrow?”
“Why?” you asked, amused. “So you can finally see if I really do eat cake during all your missions?”
Logan grumbled something under his breath. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”
You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Meeting him in person… it’d be a big step. The dynamics between you two would change. And honestly, you weren’t sure if that was a good idea. But at the same time, a part of you was curious about the man behind the gruff voice and dry humor.
“We’ll see,” you said, keeping your tone light. “But don’t hold your breath, Wolf.”
Logan was quiet for a second before he let out a low chuckle. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. See you around, Phantom.”
With that, the line went dead, and you leaned back in your chair, staring at the screen. You could still hear Logan’s voice in your head, and for a moment, you wondered what it’d be like to finally meet him. But then you shook the thought away, focusing back on your monitors.
It was safer this way. Easier. Less complicated.
But as you closed down your systems for the night, a small, nagging part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the chance to see the man behind the voice.
---
The next morning, you found yourself up earlier than usual, sipping coffee and thinking about Logan’s mission. You knew he was already at the debrief with Ricky, probably sitting there with that irritated look on his face. The thought made you smile.
You were in the middle of pulling up some new data on the trafficking ring when your phone buzzed with a message.
Logan: Missin’ you at this meeting. Ricky’s talkin’ my ear off.
You blinked at the screen, surprised. You weren’t expecting a text from Logan, let alone one like that. He wasn’t usually the type to check in.
You: I’m sure you’re handling it like a pro. Should I send donuts as a peace offering?
His reply came almost immediately.
Logan: Yeah, make it two dozen.
You snorted into your coffee, shaking your head.
You: I’ll see what I can do. How’d the debrief go?
There was a pause before Logan replied.
Logan: Fine. Got another mission lined up. They want you back on comms. Same setup.
Your fingers hesitated over the keys before you typed back.
You: Guess that means you’re stuck with me a little longer, huh?
Logan: Could be worse.
You smiled to yourself, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. It was a small thing, but the fact that Logan had reached out to you, even if it was just to complain about a meeting, felt like progress.
You: Just let me know when you’re ready for another round, Wolf. I’ll be there.
Logan: Yeah, I know you will.
You stared at the screen for a second longer, feeling something stir in the pit of your stomach. You shook it off, downed the rest of your coffee, and started pulling up the files for the next mission.
There was no time for distractions—not when the stakes were this high.
But still, a small part of you couldn’t help but look forward to hearing Logan’s voice in your ear again.
---
“Why don’t you tell me something ‘bout you?”
You raised an eyebrow at Logan’s question, momentarily pausing your typing before resuming. “I don’t know… don’t want a strange man knowin’ about me, do I?”
There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line. "Strange man, huh? Thought we were past that by now."
You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “Well, I guess you’re not that strange, Wolf. But still. Not sure I’m ready to spill all my secrets.”
“I’m not askin’ for all your secrets. Just one.” His voice was rough, but there was a hint of curiosity behind it, like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you. Which was… unexpected.
You tapped your fingers against the keyboard, considering. “Alright. Something about me, huh? Let’s see… I used to hate coffee. Couldn’t stand the taste.”
Logan snorted. “That’s it? C’mon, Phantom, give me somethin’ better than that.”
“Hey, you didn’t specify what kind of fact,” you shot back, a grin creeping onto your face. “But fine, if you want something more interesting… I got kicked out of my computer science class once.”
There was a beat of silence. “You? Miss hacker extraordinaire? What the hell did you do?”
You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you. “Maybe I hacked into the school’s system to change a grade or two. Not mine, though. A friend’s. The professor wasn’t too thrilled about it.”
Logan’s laugh came through the line, deeper this time. “Should’ve known you’d be trouble.”
You smiled, leaning forward again. “Well, you’re stuck with me now.”
“Seems like it,” he muttered, a hint of something in his voice that made your stomach flip.
You cleared your throat, steering the conversation back on track. “Alright, your turn. Tell me something about you.”
“Not much to tell.” Logan’s voice was gruff, almost dismissive, but you could hear the hesitation.
“Come on, fair’s fair,” you pressed. “You can’t ask me for something and not return the favor.”
He was silent for a moment, and you could almost picture him sitting there, deciding how much he wanted to give away. Logan was driving, he had finished another mission with you on the line like always. Except this time, it ended with a man tied up and unconscious in the trunk for Ricky.
Finally, he sighed. “Alright. You want something about me? I used to be a lumberjack.”
You blinked, thrown off by the admission. “A lumberjack? Like, chopping down trees and all that?”
“Yeah. Chopping down trees, clearing land. It was… quiet. Simple.”
You let that sink in, the image of Logan swinging an axe somehow fitting. “Sounds nice. Bet you looked right at home doing it.”
He huffed a short laugh. “Not sure anyone’s ever ‘at home’ doing that, but yeah, it wasn’t bad. Kept me grounded, I guess.”
There was something unspoken in his voice, something heavy. You knew enough by now to not push too hard, so instead, you kept it light. “So, from chopping trees to chasing bad guys and mutants. Quite the career change.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Logan’s tone shifted, and you could tell he was ready to move on. “Enough ‘bout me. What’s the status on those files? You find anything new?”
You glanced at your screen, where the data on the trafficking ring was slowly coming together. “A few new leads. Cross-referenced some names from the last mission, and there’s definitely a connection between the ring and a shipping company based in Miami. Could be our way in.”
“Good.” Logan’s voice was steady, all business again. “Send me the details when you’re done. Ricky’s gonna want to know.”
You nodded to yourself, already pulling up the files to forward to him. “You got it. And Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Try not to let Ricky drive you too crazy. I’m not sending donuts again.”
Logan snorted. “No promises.”
---
Two days later, you were back at your desk, knee-deep in code, when the comms crackled to life.
“You ready, Phantom?”
You smiled to yourself, hearing Logan’s voice in your ear again. “Always. You good to go?”
“Locked and loaded,” he replied, the sound of a car door shutting in the background. “What’s the target this time?”
You tapped a few keys, bringing up the map. “Warehouse in Miami. Based on the intel we pulled, this is one of their main distribution points. High traffic, lots of movement at night.”
“Security?”
“Pretty tight, but nothing we can’t handle. I’ll be your eyes and ears. You just focus on getting in and out.”
“Like always.” There was a pause, then, “You ever been to Miami?”
You raised an eyebrow at the question. “Once or twice. Why?”
“Just curious. Thought maybe you’d have some recommendations on where to go after all this is over.”
You couldn’t help but grin. “What, planning a vacation already?”
“Maybe. Depends how fast we wrap this up.”
Shaking your head, you brought the focus back to the mission. “Alright, Wolf. Let’s get through this first, then we can talk about your beach plans.”
Logan chuckled, low and rough. “Deal.”
As you guided him through the back streets of Miami, tracking his every move on the security cameras, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar sense of anticipation. Working with Logan had become second nature by now, and yet there was always this underlying tension, this unspoken connection between you two that made every mission just a little more intense.
“Left at the next alley,” you instructed, your eyes flicking between the camera feeds. “You’ll see a door around the corner. Should be unlocked.”
“Got it,” Logan replied, his voice steady. You could hear his footsteps echoing off the alley walls as he approached the warehouse.
“Any movement inside?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
You scanned the interior feeds. “Three guards on the ground floor, two patrolling the upper levels. They’re not on high alert, though. You should be able to slip past them.”
“Easy enough.”
You listened to the sound of him moving, the slight creak of a door opening, then the soft thud of his boots on concrete. You kept your focus on the screens, heart rate picking up as Logan made his way deeper into the building.
“There’s a stairwell to your left,” you whispered, though no one but Logan could hear you. “Take it up. The control room’s on the second floor.”
“On it.”
Everything was going smoothly—until it wasn’t.
“Shit,” Logan muttered, his voice tense. “Got company.”
Your eyes flew to the nearest camera, catching sight of two guards rounding the corner, guns drawn.
“Hang on,” you said quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard. “I’m looping the camera feed—there, they shouldn’t be able to see you now.”
Logan didn’t respond right away, but you heard the scuffle over the line, the sound of fists meeting flesh, followed by a grunt of pain. You held your breath, watching the screens intently.
“Logan? You good?”
There was a beat of silence before his voice came through, breathless but unbothered. “Yeah. Just had to put a couple guys to sleep.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Jesus, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”
“Don’t worry, Phantom. I’ve got it under control.”
You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and despite the tension, you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, next time, maybe give me a little warning before you go all Rambo on me.”
“No promises,” Logan’s voice crackled through the comms, and you could practically hear the grin in his tone. There was a brief pause before he added, “You still with me, Phantom?”
You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile. “Barely. I swear, you’ll be the death of me one of these days.”
His laugh came low and rough, and for a moment, you let yourself relax a little, the tension from earlier easing. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that.”
“Yeah, well, I mean it,” you shot back, eyes scanning the multiple screens in front of you. The warehouse was sprawling, but you had a pretty good read on the layout by now. “You’re clear to move. No one else on this floor.”
“Got it.” You heard the soft thud of his boots again as he moved forward.
“So, what’s the next step?” Logan asked, keeping his voice low. “You got me runnin’ around this place, but you haven’t told me what I’m lookin’ for.”
“Patience, Wolf,” you teased, tapping a few more keys to bring up the rest of the building’s security system. “I’m working on it. There’s a secure server room on the north side of the building. That’s where they’re storing the data we need. You’re gonna have to bypass their security to get in.”
“Piece of cake.”
“Funny you mention cake,” you said, grinning to yourself as you tapped into the server’s firewall. “Because after this, I’m thinking you owe me some. Maybe even pie. You’re racking up quite the tab.”
Logan chuckled. “Yeah? We’ll see. First, let’s get through this alive.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
As you worked, your mind drifted for a second, the familiar rhythm of the job taking over. It was almost unsettling how natural it had become to guide Logan through these kinds of missions. You weren’t sure when you’d started looking forward to them—maybe it was the banter, maybe it was the trust you’d built. But either way, it had become a part of your routine.
“Server room’s on the right,” you said after a beat, focusing back on the task at hand. “Two guards outside, but they don’t seem too alert. Shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
Logan’s voice was smooth as he replied, “Already ahead of you. On my way.”
You kept your eyes on the screen, watching as he moved through the shadows, blending in with the dark corners of the warehouse. It was impressive, really. The way he worked was so fluid, like he’d done this a thousand times before. And, well, he probably had.
“There’s an override switch on the wall next to the door,” you instructed. “Flip it, and you’ll have access.”
Logan grunted in response, and a moment later, you heard the soft click of the door unlocking.
“Inside,” he muttered. “Now what?”
You were about to respond when a sudden blip on your screen caught your attention. “Wait, hold up,” you said quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard. “We’ve got movement. Someone’s heading toward your location. Two guards, second floor.”
Logan’s voice was calm, even as he moved into action. “How long do I have?”
“Not long. They’re coming fast.” Your heart pounded as you watched the dots on the map converge on his location. “You need to get out of there, now.”
“Too late for that,” Logan muttered, the sounds of heavy footsteps echoing through the comms.
“Logan—”
“Don’t worry, Phantom,” he cut you off, and you could hear the smirk in his voice again. “I’ve got this.”
The next thing you heard was the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh, followed by a low grunt of pain. You winced, even though you couldn’t see what was happening.
“Logan? Talk to me.”
More sounds of a struggle came through, and then finally, Logan’s voice, slightly breathless but unbothered. “Two down. Told ya, no problem.”
You let out a shaky breath, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, well, maybe next time don’t wait until the last second to handle it.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, even though your nerves were still on edge. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s what they tell me,” he replied, and you could hear the faint rustle of him moving again. “Alright, I’m at the server. How much time do we need?”
“Give me five minutes,” you said, fingers flying across the keyboard as you initiated the download remotely. “I’m pulling the data now. Just stay put until I finish.”
“Five minutes? Thought you were faster than that, Phantom.”
“Don’t push it, Logan,” you shot back, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “I’d like to see you hack into a secured server faster.”
“Maybe I’ll give it a shot one of these days,” he muttered, the humor still in his voice. “Bet I’d be a natural.”
“Please. You’d probably smash the computer before you even logged in.”
“Only if it pissed me off.”
You shook your head, focusing back on the task at hand. “Alright, I’m almost done. Just a few more seconds.”
There was silence on the line for a moment, and you could hear Logan shifting in place, his breaths slow and steady.
“You ever think about doin’ this full time?” he asked suddenly, his voice lower now, more serious.
“Hacking?” you replied, thrown off by the question. “I mean, I’m not exactly doing this for the money. Why?”
“Just curious,” Logan said, and you could tell by his tone that he wasn’t pressing the issue. “Seems like you’re good at it. You could make a real difference.”
You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keys. “I’m already making a difference,” you said softly, your voice quieter than usual. “I don’t need to do it full time to feel like it matters.”
There was a pause, and for a moment, you thought maybe the line had cut out. But then Logan spoke again, his voice low and almost… thoughtful.
“Yeah. Guess you’re right.”
You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you didn’t. Instead, you focused on finishing the download, the soft hum of the servers filling the silence between you.
“Got it,” you said finally, leaning back in your chair with a sigh of relief. “Download’s complete. You’re good to go.”
Logan didn’t reply right away, but you could hear the soft sound of him moving, his footsteps heavy against the concrete floor.
“Logan?” you prompted after a moment, the silence starting to make you uneasy.
“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice a little distant. “I’m on my way out.”
You nodded to yourself, watching his dot move across the map on your screen. “Good. Let’s get you out of there.”
As you guided him back through the warehouse, you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed in his voice during those last few minutes. Something about the way he’d asked that question—about doing this full time—had caught you off guard.
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. You had a job to finish, and Logan needed to get out of there safely.
“Alright, you’re clear,” you said once he reached the exit. “No one’s around. Just make sure you don’t—”
“Yeah, I know,” Logan interrupted, and you could hear the smirk in his voice again. “Don’t get shot. You’ve told me a thousand times, Phantom.”
“Then maybe this time you’ll listen,” you shot back, grinning despite yourself.
Logan chuckled, the sound low and rough. “No promises.”
And with that, the line went quiet, leaving you alone in the soft glow of your computer screen.
---
"Alright, your change is $2.87. Have a good one.” You handed the change and a paper bag to the customer, smiling politely. After brushing your hands on your pastel blue apron, you turned to the next person in line. "How can I help—”
You paused mid-sentence as you looked up, surprised to see Ricky standing in front of you with a smirk on his face. You let out an exaggerated sigh. “The regular?”
“Always.” Ricky leaned against the counter, watching you with that usual casual attitude. “You know me too well, Phantom.”
You scoffed lightly at the use of your codename in the middle of your bakery. "Could you not call me that here?" You motioned to the line behind him. “I’d prefer not to blow my cover in front of customers.”
Ricky grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Relax, I’m just messin’ with you. Your secret’s safe with me.”
You shook your head and started prepping his order, grabbing a coffee and a chocolate croissant, which he always got whenever he visited your bakery. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have something better to do than bother me at work?”
“Maybe I just missed my favorite hacker-slash-baker,” Ricky teased, crossing his arms as he watched you work. “Figured I’d stop by and see how you’re holding up.”
You raised an eyebrow, handing him the coffee. “I’m holding up fine. Business as usual.”
“Yeah. This place looks better than before. New paint job?”
“Actually, no. New tables and chairs.” You replied. Computer programming had always been something you enjoyed and loved, but when you started working for a big tech company, you couldn’t help but feel like your talents were going to waste.
You found Ricky, or rather, Ricky found you, and you were recruited into ‘The Organization’ to take down mutant trafficking rings. You still needed money, so you decided to put to use your other skill, baking. You opened a small bakery in New York City and have been running it for close to 2 years now.
Ricky leaned against the counter, eyeing the new setup. “So this is what you do when you’re not saving the world? Whip up some cupcakes?”
You rolled your eyes as you placed the croissant in a bag. “Something like that. Gotta pay the bills, right?”
Ricky took the bag from you, giving you a knowing smirk. “You know, it’s still hard to picture you as a baker. I keep waiting for the day I come in here, and all the pastries are bugged with tiny microphones.”
You snorted. “Please. Like I’d waste good croissants on something like that.”
He laughed, then took a sip of his coffee. “You heard from Logan?”
Your fingers froze for a split second, but you quickly masked it by busying yourself with wiping down the counter. “Why? Did something happen?”
Ricky raised an eyebrow. “No, not that I know of. Just thought he might’ve reached out, is all.”
You shrugged, trying to keep your tone casual. “He’s probably busy. You know how it is.”
“Mhm.” Ricky gave you a look that suggested he wasn’t buying it. “Right. Busy.”
You shot him a glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grinned, shaking his head. “Nothing, Phantom. Just… you two seem to get along pretty well. That’s all.”
You felt a warmth creeping up the back of your neck and quickly turned away, focusing on the pastries again. “We work well together, if that’s what you mean.”
“Sure, sure,” Ricky said, clearly amused. “Just don’t let ol’ Wolf get too attached. He’s not exactly the sentimental type.”
You scoffed. “Yeah, I’m not worried about that.”
But even as you said it, you couldn’t help but think back to the last mission. The banter, the small moments where Logan seemed to let his guard down—just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder.
Ricky stood up straight, crumpling the paper bag in his hand. “Alright, Phantom. I’ll leave you to your cupcakes and secret side missions. Just don’t go getting yourself into trouble.”
“Me? Trouble?” you grinned. “Never.”
He chuckled, heading for the door. “Catch you later.”
As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Ricky had a way of pushing your buttons just enough to make you think. And now you couldn’t stop replaying your recent conversations with Logan in your head. It was strange—this… thing between you two. He wasn’t like anyone you’d worked with before. And yet, it felt natural, like you’d known each other much longer than a few months.
Your phone buzzed in your apron pocket, snapping you out of your thoughts. You pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Logan: Got some info for you. When’s your next shift with me?
You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keys for a second before you replied.
You: Whenever you need me. What’s the mission?
Logan: I’ll fill you in later. Just be ready.
You: Always am, Wolf.
A short pause, then Logan’s reply came through.
Logan: I know.
You stared at the screen for a moment longer, feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. Shaking your head, you shoved the phone back into your pocket. You had a business to run, after all. There was no time to dwell on this… whatever it was between you and Logan.
But as you served the next customer with a practiced smile, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that your next mission with him was going to be different. Maybe it already was.
---
“You ever been to New York City?” Logan asked.
You briefly stopped your typing on the keyboard, “maybe. Maybe not. Why?”
Logan’s voice crackled through the earpiece, low and rough as always. “Just curious. Figured you might’ve wandered through at some point, considering how close we’ve been workin’ together.”
You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the surveillance feed on your screen. “Is this your version of small talk, Wolf? Because I gotta say, you’re not exactly known for that.”
He chuckled. “Nah, just figured it was worth askin’. You ever get outta that basement of yours?”
You leaned back in your chair, smirking to yourself. “I’m not always in a basement, you know. I have other things going on. Like you, sweetie. You focusing on those wires?”
“Sweetie?” Logan’s voice came back with a low growl, amusement lacing his tone. “You know I don’t get distracted easy, darlin’.”
You smirked at the monitor in front of you, watching as he carefully maneuvered through the narrow corridor of the warehouse. “Just making sure. Wouldn’t want to have to bail you out if you trip a wire.”
“Funny,” he muttered. “You’re soundin’ real confident for someone sittin’ comfy at a keyboard.”
“Hey, I’m not comfy,” you shot back, leaning closer to the screen. “I’m on the edge of my seat watching your back.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, the sound of a door creaking open in the background. “What do you see up ahead?”
You focused on the different camera feeds, your fingers flying over the keys to switch between views. “Two guards in the hallway to your left. Armed. They’re just patrolling, so if you wait about ten seconds, you should be able to slip by.”
“Copy that.” His breathing slowed, the sound of footsteps faint as he pressed himself against the wall. “Tell me somethin’, Phantom. What do you do when you’re not playin’ babysitter for me?”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Logan grunted softly, the sound of his claws extending briefly as he took a peek around the corner. “Yeah, kinda. All I get’s that voice of yours—still gotta figure out the face that goes with it.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “You’re obsessed, Wolf.”
“Never said I wasn’t.” There was a beat of silence as Logan moved silently down the hallway, bypassing the guards with ease. “But you still didn’t answer me.”
You sighed dramatically, switching to another camera feed that showed a large storage room filled with crates. “What do you think I do? Sit in a dark room, hacking into firewalls all day?”
Logan snorted. “Ain’t that what you’re doin’ now?”
“Touché.” You shifted slightly, watching him take down a lone guard with a quick, precise movement. “But no. I do have a life outside of this, you know.”
“Like what?” He sounded genuinely curious now, and you could almost picture the way his brows would be furrowed in concentration. “You got a family? Friends?”
You paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Family? Not really. Friends? Also a stretch. But you didn’t feel like sharing that right now. “I’ve got… a business to run.”
Logan was quiet for a moment. “A business, huh? Didn’t think you’d be the type to deal with customers.”
“Why not?” you shot back. “I’m very good with people, I’ll have you know.”
“Yeah, like the time you almost tore that guy a new one when he questioned your coding?” He chuckled, the sound low and deep in your ear. “Real people person, darlin’.”
“Okay, that was one time.” You rolled your eyes. “And he deserved it. But yeah, I’m pretty good with people—when I want to be.”
“Uh-huh.” There was a rustling noise, like he was checking through one of the crates. “What kinda business?”
You hesitated again. Part of you wanted to keep that piece of your life separate from Logan. But he’d been honest with you about a lot of things—his past, his work, even some of his regrets. It seemed only fair to give a little in return.
“...A bakery,” you finally admitted, almost cringing at how mundane it sounded compared to the world you two operated in.
There was a long pause on the other end. Then—
“A bakery?” Logan repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. “Like… cupcakes and cookies bakery?”
“Yeah, Wolf,” you said dryly, feeling heat creep up your neck. “I bake things. It’s called having a hobby.”
He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Just tryin’ to picture it, that’s all. Our resident hacker pullin’ cookies out of the oven.”
“Is that so hard to imagine?” You switched to another feed, tracking his progress through the facility. “I bet you’d like my cookies.”
“Yeah?” There was a hint of teasing in his voice now. “You gonna make some for me sometime?”
You bit your lip, surprised at the sudden flutter in your chest at the thought. “Maybe. If you’re good.”
“Darlin’, I’m always good.”
“Debatable,” you shot back quickly, but your smile softened at the edges. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”
There was another pause, and you could hear Logan’s soft exhale through the comms. “You really own a bakery?”
“Yes, really,” you said, feeling oddly defensive now. “I’m not making it up just to sound cute.”
He chuckled again. “I didn’t think that. Just… didn’t see it comin’, is all. Got any specialties?”
You blinked at the sudden change in tone, a mix of genuine curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Well, I make a mean chocolate croissant.”
“Chocolate croissant, huh?” He sounded like he was mulling it over. “Could go for one right now.”
“Focus, Wolf,” you teased, but there was a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the coffee beside you. “Get through this mission, and maybe I’ll let you try one.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” His voice was low, a promise wrapped in that simple statement.
For a moment, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. It was strange how easy it felt, talking like this. Like you weren’t two people who only knew each other through voices and screens. Like there was something more.
“Alright, I’m in position,” Logan murmured, breaking the silence. “What’s next?”
You glanced at the feed, spotting the final target. “There’s a control panel just ahead. Shut it down, and we’ll have full access to the data we need.”
“On it.” There was a soft thud as he moved forward, the sound of his claws retracting. “Phantom?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks… for keepin’ me company. Makes this kinda work a little less shit.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you struggled to find your voice for a second. “...Anytime, Wolf.”
And you meant it.
---
After 5 months of The Organization searching, the base of the mutant trafficking ring was finally found. It wasn’t just you and Logan, but other’s out on the field searching, and now things were coming to a head.
Ricky had briefed everyone—the field agents and those, like you, behind the computers. Everyone was in position, and tonight, after months of planning, the mutant trafficking ring was finally going to be shut down.
You took a steadying breath, fingers hovering over your keyboard. The screens in front of you were filled with various feeds: security cameras, schematics of the building, comms channels. It was go-time, and as much as you liked to pretend you were calm, there was a knot of tension in your stomach. You knew what was riding on this mission—innocent lives, and for some reason, your thoughts kept circling back to one person in particular.
“Phantom, you there?” Logan’s voice came through your earpiece, low and steady.
“Yeah, Wolf. Right here.” You sat up a little straighter, adjusting the headset. “You good?”
“Never better.” He sounded almost amused. “How ‘bout you? Keepin’ those fingers of yours nimble?”
You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m ready to go. All feeds are online, and I’ve got eyes on every entrance. You’re at the west side of the building, right?”
“Yep.” He paused, and you heard the faint shuffle of boots against gravel. “What’s your status?”
“Locked and loaded,” you replied, scanning the feeds. “Looks like we’ve got a dozen guards outside, plus more scattered throughout the building. The main target’s in the central office on the second floor. You’ll need to cut through the lower levels to get there.”
“Got it. You got eyes on the others?”
You quickly toggled between the different comms channels, listening in on reports from the other teams. “Everyone’s in position. Team Alpha is covering the south, Bravo’s moving to secure the exit routes. You’re clear to start your approach.”
Logan grunted in acknowledgment, and you watched on one of the monitors as he started moving through the shadows, staying low and out of sight.
“Be careful, Wolf,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.
“Careful’s my middle name,” he drawled back, a hint of that signature cockiness coming through. “You just keep those pretty eyes on the feeds and tell me if someone’s gonna try and sneak up on me.”
“Always do,” you shot back, smiling despite the tension in the air.
There was a pause on his end, and then: “What’s the fastest way to the office from here?”
You glanced at the building’s layout, quickly mapping out a route in your head. “Take the staircase to your right, follow the hallway down two doors, then take a left. You should be able to bypass most of the guards that way. Just… watch for the tripwires.”
“Roger that. Stay on me, Phantom.”
“Like I’m ever not.” You kept your eyes glued to the screen as Logan moved through the facility with practiced ease. Despite the tension thrumming through your veins, there was a strange calmness in listening to his breathing over the comms, knowing you were right there with him, even if it was only in a digital sense.
“How’s it look up ahead?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
“Two guards at the end of the hall,” you reported, zooming in on one of the feeds. “They’re armed, but they’re not paying attention. You should be able to take them out quietly.”
Logan didn’t respond, but you saw him slip into the corridor, moving like a shadow. A few seconds later, both guards were down, and he was back on the line. “Clear.”
“Nice work, Wolf.” You leaned forward, fingers flying over the keyboard to hack into the security system. “I’m disabling the cameras on the next floor. You should have a clear path to the office, but I’m picking up some chatter—looks like they’re getting suspicious.”
“Let ‘em get suspicious.” There was a low, dangerous edge to his voice now. “I’m ready.”
You couldn’t help but grin a little. “That makes one of us.”
“C’mon, Phantom, you know you love this shit,” he teased, but there was a warmth in his tone that made your heart skip a beat. “All that adrenaline. Gets the blood pumpin’, doesn’t it?”
You bit your lip, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m not the one out there risking my neck. That’s your job.”
“Yeah, well… you’re doin’ a hell of a job keepin’ me from getting my ass shot off.” There was a pause, and then he added, almost softly, “Don’t know what I’d do without you, darlin’.”
You blinked at the screen, momentarily caught off guard by his words. “...Just stay focused, Wolf. I’m not pulling your ass out of this if you get cocky.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. I’m good.” His voice turned serious again as he approached the central office. “I’m at the door. How many inside?”
You quickly cycled through the cameras, counting the figures inside. “Three guards. One unarmed. That’s the target. If you move quick, you should be able to neutralize them before they call for backup.”
“Got it.” Logan’s voice was low, almost a growl. You watched as he shifted his weight, preparing to make his move. It was always a little nerve-wracking, watching him go in like this, but you trusted him. He knew what he was doing.
Your fingers danced over the keyboard, disabling the cameras in the immediate area. “I’m taking out the cameras around the office. You’re clear for entry. Make it fast, Wolf.”
“Don’t worry. I’m on it.” He paused for a beat. “How’s the rest of the team doin’?”
You glanced at the other feeds, tracking the movements of the different teams scattered throughout the building. “Team Alpha just took out the last of the perimeter guards. Bravo’s securing the exits—no one’s getting in or out without us knowing.”
“Good. Let’s end this.” There was a soft click as Logan pushed the door open, slipping inside the office with deadly precision.
The guards barely had time to react. You watched in awe as he took them down with a combination of swift strikes and quick, lethal movements. He was a blur of action, and within seconds, the only people left standing were Logan and the target—an older man who looked like he’d just seen a ghost.
“Please, don’t—” the man stammered, holding up his hands in a pathetic attempt at self-defense.
“Shut up,” Logan growled, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. “You’re gonna answer a few questions for me.”
You leaned closer to the screen, keeping an eye on the other guards roaming the hallways. “Careful, Wolf. We don’t know if he’s got any backup on standby.”
“Yeah, I got it.” He gave the man a rough shake. “Who’s runnin’ this operation? Where’s the rest of the mutants you’ve been trafficking?”
The man sputtered, his face pale. “I—I don’t know! I just handle the logistics—transport, security—”
“Bullshit.” Logan’s claws extended with a sharp snikt, and you could hear the man’s terrified gasp even through the comms. “Try again, bub. And don’t lie to me.”
You zoomed in on the screen, checking for any signs of incoming guards. “Logan, I’m picking up movement on the lower levels. It’s not one of ours—looks like reinforcements. You need to hurry.”
“Copy that.” He leaned in closer to the man, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Last chance. Where are the mutants?”
“Storage room—basement level—cage twelve!” The man practically screamed the words, his eyes wide with fear. “Please, I swear, that’s all I know!”
“Storage room, basement level, cage twelve,” you repeated quickly, already pulling up the layout of the basement. “I’m sending the coordinates to Team Bravo now.”
“Good.” Logan released the man, who slumped to the floor, trembling. He stepped back, claws retracting. “Now sit tight. You’re gonna have some company soon.”
The man whimpered but didn’t move as Logan turned and made his way out of the office. You switched your focus back to the basement, watching as Team Bravo moved in to secure the mutants.
“They’re in position,” you reported, keeping your voice calm. “Looks like… ten, no, twelve mutants total. All of them are alive.”
“Alive, huh?” Logan’s voice softened just a fraction. “That’s somethin’, at least.”
“Yeah.” You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. After months of hunting down leads, false starts, and dead ends, it was finally coming together. “We did it, Wolf.”
“Not yet, we haven’t.” His tone turned serious again. “We still gotta get ‘em outta here. You got a path?”
“Working on it.” Your fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up the building’s blueprints. “Okay, there’s an access tunnel two levels down from where you are. It leads straight to an underground parking garage. If you can get them there, we’ll have transport waiting.”
“Got it. I’ll head down now.” He paused for a moment, then added quietly, “Good work, Phantom.”
You felt a warmth spread through you at the unexpected praise. “Same to you, Wolf. Just… stay safe, okay?”
There was a soft chuckle on the other end. “Don’t you worry ‘bout me, darlin’. You just keep doin’ what you do best.”
You stayed on the line, guiding him through the lower levels as he made his way to the basement. The rest of the mission went off like clockwork—Team Bravo secured the mutants, Team Alpha kept the perimeter locked down, and Logan made sure no one got in their way.
By the time it was all over, the mutants were safe, the ring was shut down, and the remaining traffickers were either captured or taken out. It was a resounding success, and yet, as you watched Logan emerge from the building, something inside you felt… off.
“Logan?” you called out softly, your voice hesitant. “You good?”
“Yeah. Just tired.” He sounded a little rough around the edges, but that was to be expected after a mission like this. “What about you? You doin’ okay?”
You let out a soft breath, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… glad it’s over, I guess.”
“Yeah.” There was a pause, and then he added, “You did good tonight, Phantom. Real good.”
“Thanks, Wolf.” You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
He grunted softly, the sound almost affectionate. “Bet you say that to all the guys you babysit.”
“Only the ones I like,” you teased, feeling a little bolder now that the mission was over. “But seriously… thanks for trusting me out there. I know it’s not easy.”
“Trust ain’t somethin’ I give lightly,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “But you earned it. Over and over.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, so you settled for a soft, “...I’m glad.”
There was another beat of silence, and then Logan’s voice came back, a little lighter. “So, when am I gettin’ that chocolate croissant?”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Guess you’ll just have to swing by my bakery sometime, huh?”
“Maybe I will.” He sounded thoughtful, like he was considering it for the first time. “Soon as I figure out where the hell it is.”
“Good luck with that,” you teased, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves. “But if you do find it… first croissant’s on me.”
“I’ll hold you to that, darlin’.” There was a warm, teasing lilt to his voice now. “Take care, Phantom.”
“You too, Wolf.”
And with that, the line went quiet. You stared at the screen for a moment longer, a smile tugging at your lips. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step—toward something new, something real.
Maybe one day, you’d get to see the look on Logan’s face when he finally tasted one of your croissants.
But for now, this was enough.
---
It had been a few weeks since the mutant trafficking ring was taken down, and since then, things from The Organization had been quiet. You were sure that soon, something would happen, and you’d have a new mission or cause to fight for, but for now, life was… normal. Or, as normal as things could get for you.
During the day, you focused on your bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries filled the small space, the steady hum of business keeping you busy. You didn’t have to think about The Organization or anything outside of kneading dough and serving customers. It was a welcome change of pace, a grounding routine that gave you some much-needed breathing room.
But at night, when the bakery was closed and the streets outside your shop went quiet, your mind wandered back to Logan—and those long conversations over the comms. The teasing back and forth. The gruff but genuine praise. The way he’d been so protective of you, even when you were just a voice in his ear.
You leaned against the counter, wiping your hands on your apron as you glanced around your empty shop. The bell above the door jingled, and you glanced up, expecting to see one of your regulars who’d forgotten to grab something before closing.
But it wasn’t one of your regulars.
It was him.
Logan.
He stood in the doorway, his broad frame almost filling it completely. A beat of silence passed as you stared at each other, and then he stepped inside, his boots making a soft thud against the wooden floor.
“Hey, darlin’.” His voice was the same deep, rough tone you remembered, and yet hearing it in person made your heart skip a beat. He glanced around the bakery, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Figured I’d finally swing by and see if your croissants live up to the hype.”
For a moment, you couldn’t speak. He was here. Here. In your bakery, standing in front of you like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Logan?” You blinked, trying to wrap your mind around it. “How—how did you find me?”
He shrugged like it was nothing, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Did a little diggin’. Asked around. Turns out you’re not as good at hiding as you think.”
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, a mix of surprise and… something else. “And you just—decided to show up out of nowhere?”
“Thought you could use some company,” he replied easily, but there was a seriousness in his gaze that told you this wasn’t just a casual visit. “Been too quiet lately. I don’t do quiet well.”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
“Neither can I,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he glanced at the display case filled with pastries. “But since I am… you gonna give me that croissant, or what?”
The corner of your mouth lifted, and you reached behind the counter, pulling out a fresh chocolate croissant. You placed it on a small plate, sliding it across to him. “First one’s on the house, remember?”
Logan took the plate, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments. A spark shot through you, but you quickly pulled your hand back, pretending like it hadn’t happened.
He lifted the croissant, inspecting it with a critical eye before taking a bite. You watched, holding your breath as he chewed thoughtfully. Then, he swallowed and nodded.
“Not bad, Phantom. Not bad at all.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, a smile breaking out on your face. “Just ‘not bad?’ I think I’m a little insulted.”
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Okay, fine. It’s good. Real good.” He took another bite, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t ya?”
“I could say the same about you.” You leaned against the counter, studying him. In the soft light of the bakery, he looked a little more relaxed, less guarded. There was still that roughness to him, but there was something else, too—a quiet sort of contentment. “So, what’s the real reason you’re here, Logan?”
He raised an eyebrow, finishing off the croissant before setting the plate down. “What, a guy can’t visit his favorite hacker?”
“Nice try.” You gave him a look, crossing your arms. “But I know you better than that.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe I just wanted to see for myself that you’re okay. That this place is real. That you’re… real.”
You felt something tighten in your chest, your gaze softening. “I’m real, Logan. You know that.”
“Yeah.” He looked around again, as if trying to memorize every detail of your little shop. “But it’s different, seein’ it with my own eyes.”
There was a weight to his words, a sincerity that made your heart ache a little. You’d spent so many nights talking to him, listening to his voice, getting to know him in a way that felt almost… intimate. And now he was here, standing in front of you, and it felt like a dream.
“Do you—” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Do you want to stay for a bit? I’ve got coffee. Or tea, if that’s more your style.”
Logan’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Coffee sounds good.”
You turned to make a fresh pot, your hands moving on autopilot as your mind raced. What did this mean? Why now? You’d thought maybe, someday, you’d meet Logan in person, but you hadn’t expected it to be like this—so sudden, so… normal.
“So,” Logan drawled, leaning against the counter as he watched you, “what’s next for you? Gonna hang up your hacker hat and just focus on bakin’?”
You glanced over your shoulder, giving him a wry smile. “You think I could actually stay out of trouble for long?”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Nah. Don’t think you’re cut out for the quiet life, darlin’.”
“Guess we have that in common, huh?” You poured the coffee, sliding a mug over to him. “But for now… I’m taking a little break. I think I’ve earned it.”
“Yeah, you have.” He took the mug, his fingers brushing against yours again. This time, neither of you pulled away. “So… what’s the plan now? Just you and the bakery?”
“For now.” You shrugged, looking around the shop. “It’s nice. Calming, even. Keeps me grounded.”
Logan studied you for a long moment, his gaze intent. “You know, I never pictured you like this. With flour on your apron and—what’s that?” He reached out, brushing his thumb lightly against your cheek. “Frostin’ on your face?”
You froze at the contact, your breath catching in your throat. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the roughness of his thumb contrasting with the softness of your skin. You stared at him, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the moment.
“I—uh—” You cleared your throat, feeling your face heat up. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Hmm.” His thumb lingered for a heartbeat longer, then he pulled back, his expression softening. “Guess it suits you.”
You swallowed, trying to steady your racing heart. “What about you? What’s next for the great Wolverine? Gonna go back to the X-Men?”
Logan chuckled, leaning back slightly as he sipped his coffee. “Who said I ever left? Maybe I was doin’ this as my side job.”
You raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. “Oh, so the big bad Wolverine has a side hustle now? Should I be worried you’re going to start making croissants too?”
He smirked. “Nah, I’ll leave the bakin’ to you. But maybe I’ll stick around, see how things go.” His eyes held yours, that familiar teasing edge mixed with something else—a quiet intensity.
“Stick around?” you asked, not entirely sure where he was going with this. “In New York? Thought you weren’t a fan of big cities.”
Logan shrugged, his gaze flicking around your cozy bakery again. “It grows on ya. Plus, I got reasons to hang around now.”
The way he said it, so casual but pointed, made your heart skip a beat. “Reasons, huh?”
He leaned forward, setting his mug down on the counter. “Yeah, Phantom. You think I spent all those nights listenin’ to you talk, gettin’ to know you, just to go back to business as usual?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of his words. You tried to bring things back to normal, to calm your racing heart, but perhaps you only made it worse with his response. “Y- you don’t have to call me that, you know? Or- anymore, at least.”
Logan’s eyes locked onto yours, a spark of curiosity flickering in his gaze. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter. “Oh yeah? So, what should I call ya?”
You hesitated, feeling the weight of his question. It was such a simple thing—your real name. Something you’d kept hidden, not out of fear, but because keeping a wall between your real life and Phantom had made things… easier. Safer, even. But you felt safe with him standing in front of you, even if it was the first time meeting face to face.
“Y/N.” You finally said, quietly with a small smile.
Logan’s eyes softened, something shifting in his expression as he repeated your name—almost testing it out. “Y/N, huh? Suits you.”
You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the warmth spreading through your chest. “Figured it was time to be on a first-name basis, Wolf.”
His lips twitched into a smirk at the nickname. “Wolf,” he repeated, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “You’ve been callin’ me that for months. Thought you’d drop it once I was standin’ right in front of ya.”
“Why would I do that?” you shot back, your smile growing a little more confident. “It suits you, Wolf.”
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough.” He leaned back, his gaze never leaving yours. “Guess I’ll stick with ‘Phantom’ for old times’ sake.”
“‘Y/N’ is fine,” you said softly. “I think we’re past codenames.”
He nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Y/N, then.” The way he said it—slow and deliberate—made your heart flutter. There was something so personal about it, so… intimate. You’d spent so long hiding behind ‘Phantom’ that hearing your real name in his voice felt almost surreal.
You glanced down at the counter, clearing your throat to break the tension. “So,” you said slowly, a hint of mischief creeping into your tone, “now that you’ve tried my croissants, what’s next on the list? Gonna critique my muffins too?”
Logan’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting. “Oh, I’m definitely stickin’ around long enough to try everything on that menu, darlin’. Gotta make sure it’s all up to snuff.”
“Uh-huh. Just don’t expect me to bake for you every day,” you teased, but there was a warmth in your voice that you couldn’t quite hide.
“I dunno,” he drawled, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. “Kinda like the idea of you makin’ me breakfast.”
Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat. You chuckled back at him, putting the towel in your hand over your shoulder, “yeah? Bet you say that to all the women you meet.”
Logan’s smirk grew, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way you’d come to recognize as trouble. “You think I go around findin’ bakeries just to get breakfast from pretty hackers?”
“Pretty hackers?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t know I was your type, Wolf.”
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair with an easy confidence. “You’re my type if you keep makin’ croissants like that.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Nice recovery.”
There was a beat of silence, and Logan’s smirk softened, replaced by a more thoughtful look. His eyes swept around the shop again, taking in the cozy space as if trying to understand something deeper about it—about you.
“This place,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. “It’s yours, huh?”
“Yeah,” you replied, a touch of pride in your voice. “Bought it a couple of years ago. Did most of the renovations myself. Not the hacking kind, though.”
Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on the shelves lined with baked goods and the flour-dusted counter. “Figured you’d be in some high-tech lab or somethin’. Not… this.”
You smiled, glancing around your bakery. “What? Don’t think I can bake and hack at the same time?”
“Nah, it’s not that.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as if he were searching for the right words. “Guess I just never thought about what your life looked like when you weren’t on a mission.”
“Well,” you said softly, meeting his eyes. “This is it. Flour, sugar, and a whole lot of early mornings.”
Logan tilted his head, studying you like he was seeing a whole new side of you. “It suits ya.”
You shrugged, feeling a bit exposed under his gaze. “It’s not as exciting as fighting bad guys, but… it’s mine.”
“Doesn’t have to be exciting all the time,” he murmured. His voice was quieter now, more serious, and it made you pause. “Sometimes… it’s the quiet stuff that matters.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing it did whenever he got unexpectedly sincere. “Yeah, well, quiet doesn’t seem to be your style, Logan.”
He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “Yeah, guess not. But maybe I’m workin’ on that.”
You gave him a playful smirk. “You? Working on ‘quiet’? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He leaned forward, his arms resting on the counter as he looked at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe you’ll see it sooner than you think.”
Your teasing smile faltered slightly, your heartbeat picking up again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Logan held your gaze for a long moment, something unspoken hanging in the air between you. “Means I’m stickin’ around, Y/N. If you’re okay with that.”
Your breath caught at the way he said your name—your real name, not Phantom. There was a weight to it, like he wasn’t just talking about the bakery or the city. He was talking about you.
“Logan,” you started, your voice a little shaky as you tried to keep it light, “are you saying you want to be a regular customer?”
He smirked, but the seriousness in his eyes didn’t fade. “Somethin’ like that. Thought maybe I’d get to know the person behind the croissants… and the computer screens.”
Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but smile, even though you felt a little breathless. “Well, considering you just showed up without a warning, I’d say you’re off to a good start.”
Logan’s smirk widened. “Always liked makin’ an entrance.”
“Yeah, well,” you said, shaking your head, “next time, maybe give a girl a little heads-up.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, though his voice had softened.
You didn’t have a snappy comeback for that, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The bakery felt smaller, quieter, like the world outside had paused, leaving just the two of you in this little bubble. You’d known him for months, heard his voice in your ear during some of the craziest situations, but this—standing here in the same room, with him right there—felt different. Real.
“So,” you said after a beat, your voice a little quieter now, “what’s the plan? You just gonna hang out in New York for a while? Or…?”
Logan shrugged, but there was something thoughtful in his expression. “Dunno. Figure I’ll stick around, see how things play out. Been on the move too long. Might be time to slow down a bit.”
“Slow down?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You?”
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t sound like me, does it?”
You smiled, leaning against the counter. “Well, if you’re serious about sticking around, you’d better be ready for a lot of early mornings.”
Logan’s gaze flicked to the flour on your apron and the slight mess on the counter. “Early mornings, huh? Guess I can handle that. Long as there’s coffee.”
You laughed softly, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest again. “I think I can manage that.”
There was another pause, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that felt… nice. Like neither of you were in a rush to fill the space with words.
Finally, Logan straightened up, glancing toward the door. “Guess I’ll let ya get back to it. Don’t wanna keep you too long.”
You felt a flicker of disappointment, but you quickly pushed it down, giving him a smile instead. “You’re always welcome, you know. Next time, I’ll save you a muffin.”
Logan’s smirk returned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that, darlin’.”
He took a step toward the door, but then he paused, glancing back at you. “Y/N?”
“Yeah?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat at the way he said your name again.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he said softly, his gaze holding yours for just a moment longer before he turned and walked out the door, the bell above it jingling softly in his wake.
You stood there for a long moment, staring at the door long after he was gone, your heart still racing.
---
Logan’s unexpected visit left you in a whirlwind. For the next few days, it was hard to focus on the usual routines of the bakery. Each time the bell over the door chimed, your heart leapt a little, thinking maybe, just maybe, it’d be him again. But Logan didn’t show, and you tried to remind yourself not to overthink it. He was just… being Logan. Coming and going as he pleased, without a word or explanation.
But then, one evening, just as you were flipping the Open sign to Closed, you noticed something slipped under the door—a folded piece of paper with your name scrawled across it in a familiar, rugged handwriting.
You picked it up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and opened it.
Got a place in mind. Be ready at 7. —W
No address. No other details. Just a time and a cryptic note.
You found yourself smiling despite your confusion. Of course, he’d pull something like this. He couldn’t just ask you to dinner like a normal person—he had to be all mysterious about it. But then again, it was part of his charm.
The day passed in a blur. By the time you were getting ready, nerves had settled in. What exactly did Logan mean by ‘got a place in mind’? Was this a date? Just… friends hanging out?
You pushed the thoughts away and focused on getting dressed. Something casual, but not too casual. Comfortable, but still showing you’d put in some effort. You settled on a pair of well-fitting jeans and a soft sweater that was flattering but not over-the-top.
Right at 7, there was a soft knock on your door. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and opened it.
Logan stood there, looking the same as always and yet… different. Maybe it was the way he’d traded his usual jacket for a dark button-down, or the fact that he looked a bit unsure himself, his gaze flicking over you in silent appraisal before settling on your eyes.
“You look good,” he said, his voice gruff, but there was an honesty in his tone that made your cheeks warm.
“Not bad yourself, Wolf,” you replied, earning a small, almost shy smile from him.
“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.
“Ready,” you confirmed, and you stepped outside, locking the door behind you.
---
Logan had borrowed a bike—one of those big, heavy motorcycles that roared to life when he turned the ignition. He tossed you a helmet, then helped you onto the back. Your hands found their way around his waist, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just that—your arms around him, the rumble of the engine beneath you, and the feel of his solid form against you.
“Hold on tight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and rough in a way that made you shiver.
The ride through the city was exhilarating, the cool night air whipping past you as Logan navigated the streets with ease. You had no idea where he was taking you, but you trusted him. You’d always trusted him.
Finally, he pulled up to a secluded spot along the East River, away from the usual tourist traps and bustling crowds. You could see the lights of the city skyline reflected in the water, the soft sounds of the river lapping at the shore creating a serene backdrop. There was a small wooden table set up nearby, with a blanket laid out and a picnic basket resting on top of it.
You blinked in surprise, glancing between the setup and Logan. “Did… did you do this?”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “Yeah, well. Figured we’ve had enough high-stakes meetin’s. Thought you deserved somethin’ different.”
Your heart melted a little at that. He’d gone through the trouble of planning something just for you—a quiet evening, just the two of you, away from the chaos of missions and comms.
“It’s perfect,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.
He gave a small nod, visibly relieved by your reaction. “Good. Now c’mon, let’s eat before it gets too cold.”
The two of you settled down at the table, and you couldn’t help but smile as Logan unpacked the basket. It was mostly simple stuff—sandwiches, fruit, a bottle of wine—but there was an almost endearing quality to it, like he’d put in effort but hadn’t tried to overdo it.
“Didn’t know what you liked, so I kinda… winged it,” he admitted, glancing at you almost nervously.
“It’s perfect,” you repeated, smiling at him. “And honestly? I’m just happy you’re here.”
Logan’s gaze softened, his eyes lingering on you in that way that made your stomach flip. “Yeah. Me too.”
The conversation flowed easily after that. You talked about everything and nothing—the bakery, old missions, even random bits about your lives that had never come up before. He was surprisingly open, and you found yourself sharing more than you usually would, the relaxed atmosphere making it easy to let your guard down.
As the evening went on, you found yourself inching closer to him. At some point, the two of you ended up side by side on the blanket, the picnic basket forgotten as you stared out at the lights reflecting on the water.
There was a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. You glanced over at Logan, feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. He was looking at you with an expression that was hard to read—soft, almost contemplative.
“What?” you asked softly, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.
“Just thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice low and rumbling. “You’re even prettier in person, you know that?”
You felt your face heat up, and you looked away, letting out a soft laugh. “Logan—”
“I mean it,” he interrupted gently, reaching out to brush your cheek. His touch was light, tentative, like he wasn’t quite sure if it was okay. “Been drivin’ myself crazy, wonderin’ what you’d look like. But seein’ you now… Hell, Y/N, I don’t think I did you justice.”
Your breath caught at the way he said your name, his gaze intense and unwavering. There was something raw and honest in his expression, like he was laying himself bare in a way you hadn’t expected.
“Logan…” you whispered, the words dying on your lips as he leaned in, his face inches from yours.
“I shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he murmured, his voice low and almost regretful. But he didn’t move away. If anything, he shifted closer, his breath brushing against your skin. “But I’ve been wantin’ to since the moment I heard your voice.”
Your heart was pounding, every nerve in your body alive with anticipation. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your own voice trembling.
Logan’s gaze flicked down to your lips, and for a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze. Then, slowly—like he was giving you every chance to pull away—he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most tentative of kisses.
It was gentle at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull back—when you leaned in, your fingers tangling in the front of his shirt—something seemed to break. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
The kiss was everything you hadn’t known you’d been waiting for—slow and sweet, but with an underlying intensity that left you breathless. You melted into him, the world around you fading away until there was nothing left but the feel of his lips on yours and the warmth of his hand against your cheek.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you were both breathing hard, your hearts racing in sync.
“Damn, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “Didn’t think it’d feel like that.”
You laughed softly, your own voice a little shaky. “Yeah. Me neither.”
Logan smiled—a real, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “Think we should do it again?”
You grinned up at him, feeling lighter than you had in ages. “Yeah, Wolf. I think we should.”
1K notes · View notes
hellotailor · 6 months ago
Text
armand’s costumes are such an interesting data point re: his nebulous sense of identity.
when analyzing any costume, there are always many factors to consider: the setting, the character’s personal taste and economic constraints, storytelling concerns like tone and genre, etc. with armand, we also need to remember that he’s 500 years old and violently disconnected from his human origins. everything he wears has an element of disguise, selected to blend into a new environment.
Tumblr media
armand was enslaved as a child in 16th century delhi, and barely remembers his mortal life. unlike louis - who can return to new orleans after 80 years and reconnect with his past - armand has no home to return to. his whole backstory, even his name, is rife with traumatic subtext, leaving him with an obsessive need for structure and control. this adds an extra layer of meaning to costuming choices that initially seem like straightforward menswear. 
armand’s 1940s wardrobe is very put-together - primarily three-piece suits and coats that make him look wealthier and more formal than louis, who is purposefully dressing down. most of these outfits are tailored to bulk up armand's frame, leaning into the "maitre" persona. and like his business-casual dubai wardrobe, he always leaves his collar open. when i interviewed costume designer carol cutshall, she described this as a symbolic power move, signalling that he's an apex predator who doesn't need to protect his throat.
Tumblr media
my personal interpretation is that while armand clearly likes to look good, he has a complicated relationship with attractiveness. he doesn't always want to draw attention. his color palette is shadowy (black, grey, brown, olive green), and he’s much less flashy than the other Théâtre vamps. however when he’s feeling confident and flirty, he becomes more of a power-dresser - for instance his hunting outfit with the big coat and sunglasses, or his habit of wearing kohl.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
interestingly, most of armand's 1940s costumes set him apart from the coven. the Théâtre vampires dress like cabaret performers, embracing a lot of period-specific styles. by contrast armand is more timeless and neutral. in fact, due to the relatively minor changes in men's suits over the past 100 years, there's a lot of overlap between his wardrobe in the 1940s, '70s and 2020s:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the rest of the Théâtre squad share an unofficial uniform of boldly clashing monochrome patterns with pops of bright color. meanwhile armand has a very plain wardrobe, emphasizing the image of him as a businesslike authority figure surrounded by zany artistes. he only wears subtle stripes on a few occasions in the '40s, reflecting the recurring prison motif we see in lestat's trial suit and (most famously) the dubai penthouse bedroom:
Tumblr media
if we ask the question, "what does this person like to wear?" there are easy answers for lestat, louis and claudia. we understand their tastes, and the motives behind them. but armand is more enigmatic. we can recognize through-lines in his wardrobe, but his "taste" is dominated by whatever role he's currently decided to embody, whether that's a parisian theater director or a real estate mogul in dubai.
the times when he appears to have the most fun with clothing are when he steals a pair of sunglasses from his human dinner (!) and when he's pretending to be rashid. in other words, when he's explicitly performing for an audience. "real armand" is still a mystery.
(i may write more about armand's dubai wardrobe later, but for now, you can find all of my iwtv costumes posts on this tag!)
3K notes · View notes
d1stalker · 4 months ago
Text
Undercover Flames [Logan Howlett]
Tumblr media
Summary: It was supposed to be easy: infiltrate the gala, gather intel, and report back. But when a mission takes a deadly turn, Logan is forced to confront his deepest fears as he races to save the woman who means more to him than life itself.
PART ONE OF TWO (part two here)
Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, canon-level violence, Logan goes feral, graphic descriptions, lot's of fighting, feels
WC: 10.8k - MASTERLIST
------
A black limousine pulls up to the grand entrance of the sprawling estate, its tires crunching on the gravel driveway. The mansion ahead is bathed in golden light, a beacon of opulence against the darkening sky. Inside, Logan’s gaze shifts to the woman beside him, his fellow teammate and the only person who can keep up with his banter. You adjust the diamond necklace around your neck, the gemstones glinting in the dim light. Logan has seen you in countless situations—on missions, during training, in the midst of battle—but tonight, in that floor-length black gown, you look like someone who belongs in this world of wealth and power. You look beautiful.
“Keep your eyes to yourself, Howlett,” you quip, catching him staring. A smirk plays on your lips as you adjust to fix your hair.
Logan grunts, pulling at the collar of his tuxedo. “Never seen you so dolled up before. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”
“I’m full of surprises,” you tease.
The two of you have been dancing around something deeper for years, hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and witty comebacks. But tonight, with both of you playing the roles of a married couple, the lines between reality and pretense are bound to feel thinner than ever.
Logan’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, his gaze softening as he takes in the way the dress hugs your figure, the way your hair frames your face. You catch the look, and for a split second, the playful atmosphere between you falls away, replaced by a charged silence that neither of you knows how to break.
The driver opens the door, jolting you back to your senses, and Logan steps out, extending a hand to help you out of the car. You take it, your touch sending a familiar shiver down his spine. He holds onto your hand for just a beat longer than necessary, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.
“Ready?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan nods, his grip tightening slightly on your hand. “Let’s get this over with.”
As the doors to the mansion swing open, you’re greeted by the sight of a grand ballroom filled with the elite of society. Men in tailored suits and women in sparkling gowns mingle under chandeliers, their laughter and conversations blending into a hum of affluence. Yet beneath the glittering surface, Logan can sense the undercurrent of danger, the same instinct that has kept him alive for over two centuries. The people here aren’t just the wealthy—they’re the orchestrators of a new threat to mutants, a group so powerful that even the X-Men have to tread carefully.
“Stick close to me,” Logan murmurs as you step into the room. “These people are more dangerous than they look.”
You roll your eyes with a smile, your arm looped through his as you make your way through the crowd. “You don’t have to tell me twice. But remember, we’re supposed to be madly in love.”
He lets out a low chuckle, one that only you can hear. “Right. Madly in love.”
His words hang in the air between you, loaded with a meaning neither of you dares to acknowledge.
The two of you move deeper into the ballroom, and you can feel the weight of several eyes on you. It’s no surprise—Logan’s rugged demeanor and your striking appearance make for a captivating combination—nevertheless, you both know better than to let your guard down. This place is a viper’s nest, and any wrong move could cost you your lives.
“There they are,” you whisper, nodding subtly toward a group of older men gathered near the center of the room. “Our targets.”
Logan’s eyes narrow as he focuses on them, recognizing the group from the briefings. “Time to make some friends.”
With practiced ease, you and Logan approach the group, slipping seamlessly into their conversation. You introduce yourselves as a wealthy couple from out of town, interested in investing in the right causes. It doesn’t take long before the men welcome you into their circle, eager to impress and share their twisted ideals.
“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels, was it?” one of the men, a tall, thin figure with silver hair and a sharp jawline, inquires. His eyes are cold and calculating, a predator sizing up his prey. “What brings you to our little gathering tonight?”
“Opportunities,” you reply, a hint of seduction in your tone. “My husband and I are always looking for the right people to align ourselves with. When we heard about your… endeavors, we couldn’t resist.”
Logan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a show of possessiveness that feels all too natural. “My wife’s got a keen eye for business,” he adds for extra persuasion, “And we’ve been hearing a lot about your group. Sounds like you’ve got big plans.”
The man’s eyes flick between the two of you, as if his suspicions still linger. “Plans indeed,” he says slowly. “But only for those who share our vision. Tell me, Mr. Daniels, what is it that you despise most?”
“Weakness,” Logan growls, his eyes meeting the man’s without flinching. “In this world, you’re either strong enough to survive, or you’re not. And I don’t have time for the ones who can’t keep up.”
A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes spreads across the man’s face. “I see we understand each other.”
You feel Logan’s hand tighten on your waist, his body tense with barely contained aggression. He’s playing the part, but you know how much he hates being in the company of people like this—people who would kill without remorse, all to maintain some sense of superiority.
“And what about you, Mrs. Daniels?” the older man continues, turning his attention to you. “Do you share your husband’s views?”
You meet his gaze with unwavering confidence, channeling all the poise you have. “Absolutely. There’s no place in this world for those who refuse to evolve. We believe in survival of the fittest.”
That seems to do the trick, the men in the circle nodding approvingly. “Well said, Mrs. Daniels. You two might just be exactly what we need.”
Another man in the group, stockier and with a thick, gray beard, leans in closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “And what do you think of the mutant problem?”
You exchange a brief glance with Logan, knowing that this is the moment of truth. If you say the wrong thing, it could blow your cover, but if you’re too vague, they might not trust you enough to share any details of their plans.
“I think they’ve had their time,” Logan says, false contempt bleeding from his words, “and it’s time someone put them in their place.”
The stocky man’s eyes light up with approval, his grin widening. “Exactly what we like to hear. You see, we’re not just talking about containment anymore.” He pauses, “We’re talking about eradication.”
Your stomach turns at the cold-blooded tone in his voice, but you keep your expression neutral.
“Eradication, you say?”
The silver-haired man nods. “A necessary step. Mutants are a threat to the natural order, and if we don’t act now, they’ll overrun us. But we have a plan—one that will send a message to the world.”
Logan’s jaw clenches, his fists itching to unsheathe his claws and tear through this evil group of people. But he forces himself to stay calm, “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth.
“We do,” the silver-haired man replies, his eyes gleaming with malice. “And with the right support, we can make it happen. Imagine a world free of mutants, where humanity can thrive without fear.”
You hum in feigned agreement. “Tell us more,” you prompt, leaning in as if genuinely interested. “How do you plan to pull this off?”
Glances are exchanged among the men, a clear sign of their satisfaction with the interest you seem to show.
“It’s quite simple, really,” the stocky man begins. “We’ve been gathering resources and allies from around the world. The most powerful minds, the wealthiest families—all united by a common goal.”
“And once we’ve secured enough support,” the silver-haired man continues, “we’ll make our move. We’ll target key mutant populations, taking them out in a way that will serve as a warning to others. Public displays, executions—whatever it takes to make them fear us.”
You keep your voice steady, despite the chill that runs down your spine, as you reply, “That’s… quite an undertaking.”
The men chuckle, mistaking your hesitation for awe. “It is. But it’s necessary. And with people like you on our side, we’ll be unstoppable.”
Logan smirks. “Count us in.”
The men smile, delighted with what they believe is newfound support. Logan hates every second of it—despises having to play along with these monsters. But he knows you both have to get more intel before you can make a move. The mission has to come first, even if it means playing nice with the enemy.
“Excuse us,” you say smoothly, grabbing Logan’s hand and glancing at him with a look that says it’s time to go. “We need to discuss a few things, but we’ll be in touch.”
The men nod, distracted by their own plotting as you and Logan step away, moving toward one of the less populated hallways. As soon as you’re out of earshot, Logan exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.
“I need to tell Scott what we just heard,” you murmur quietly, “They’re planning something big, and we don’t have much time.”
Logan nods, his hand squeezing yours as you walk down the hallway. “I’ll keep watch. Make it quick.”
You find a secluded spot near a corner, pulling out the small communicator you’ve hidden in your purse. Quickly, you begin to relay the crucial information to Scott and Hank back at the X-Mansion, your voice hushed but urgent as you detail the plans you’ve overheard. Logan stands nearby, his senses on high alert, his gaze sweeping the hallway for any sign of trouble.
It’s too quiet.
The hair on the back of his neck stands up, instincts prickling with the sense that something is wrong. He turns to you, about to suggest wrapping things up when he hears it—a faint noise, like the subtle shifting of fabric, imperceptible to anyone without enhanced hearing.
Logan’s eyes dart toward the source of the sound, muscles tensing as he spots movement down the hall. “We’ve got company,” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.
You quickly finish your transmission, tucking the communicator back into its spot in your purse. “How many?”
“Too many,” Logan mutters, his claws itching to come out. “We need to move. Now.”
It’s too late. A group of security guards rounds the corner before either of you can make a break for it. Their eyes lock onto you with suspicion, and you can see the realization dawning in their expressions. Logan immediately steps in front of you, his body a solid wall of protection.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” one of the guards says, his hand resting on the weapon at his hip. “Who are you?”
Logan forces a grin, trying to buy some time. “Just lost our way. We were headin’ back to the ballroom.”
The guard’s eyes narrow, evidently not buying it. “I don’t think so. You two don’t seem to belong here.”
Another guard steps forward before Logan has time to respond, pulling out a device that emits a faint, ominous hum. The man waves it over you, and Logan’s heart sinks as the device beeps loudly, flashing red.
“Mutants,” the guard spits, his voice filled with disgust as he steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab you. “We’ve got ourselves some freaks here, boys.”
A wave of panic surges through you, but you shove it down, focusing on the cosmic energy you can feel crackling at your fingertips. Summoning all your strength, you swing a fist, aiming to land a powerful, energy-charged punch straight into the guard’s face.
But just as you make your move, another guard from your other side grabs your wrist mid-swing and your other arm, twisting them behind your back with brutal precision. The cosmic energy fizzles out instantly, your powers rendered useless by the anti-mutant handcuffs that snap around your wrists with a harsh click. The cold metal bites into your skin, and you feel immense fear crawl its way through your body as you realize how vulnerable you are without your powers, or the use of your arms.
“Nice try, sweetheart,” the guard sneers in your ear, his grip on your arm painfully tight as he shoves you forward. “But you’re not going anywhere.”
Logan’s eyes widen in fury as he sees the guard cuff you, his body trembling with the effort to keep his rage in check. “Let her go,” he snarls, his voice dangerously heavy.
The guard only grins, tightening his hold on you. “Or what, freak? You gonna bark? Gonna bite?”
Logan’s claws shoot out with a metallic shink, the sound echoing through the hallway. He takes a step forward, the feral side of him failing to suppress itself as he glares at the guards with deadly intent. “Last warning. Let. Her. Go.”
Instead of backing down, the guards react with eager viciousness. The one holding you shoves you hard against the wall, his leg sticking out to block your own, pinning you in place. Some others step forward, one landing a brutal punch to your stomach, the force of it knocking the wind out of you. The world tilts, and pain explodes in your ribs as another guard’s boot connects with your side.
Logan sees red.
Something primal surges within him, the instinct to protect you overwhelming every other thought. With a roar that shakes the walls, he launches himself at the guards, his claws slicing through the first one with a sickening crunch. Blood splatters across the floor as Logan tears through them with a ferocity that is terrifying to witness.
He moves like a whirlwind of rage, his claws ripping through flesh and bone with savage efficiency. The guards don’t stand a chance against him, but even as he fights, more of them swarm in, trying to overwhelm him with sheer numbers.
“Logan!” you cry out, the fear and pain you feel palpable as you struggle to get free. The guard holding you down slams your head against the wall, and stars burst behind your eyes as the world blurs.
Logan spins around, his eyes wild as he sees you slumped against the wall, blood trickling from your nose, eyes fighting to stay open. The sight of you being beaten, helpless and vulnerable, sends him into a frenzy. He slashes through another guard in his way, his claws dripping with blood as he tries to tear through their ranks.
However, his efforts are futile, the guards are relentless. Their numbers never dwindle, if anything, more and more seem to join the fight. They pile onto him, using their advantage, holding him down to the ground. Logan fights with everything he has, but even he has limits. He can feel the weight of them pressing down on him, can feel his strength waning as they force him to the ground.
“Logan!” you call his name again, breaking through the chaos. He can see you being dragged from the scene, your wrists bound, your eyes locked on his as they pull you farther and farther away.
“NO!” He roars, his voice breaking as he thrashes against the guards holding him down. He has to get to you—he has to save you.
Yet the more he fights, the more they press down, their combined weight and force overwhelming even his enhanced strength. They slam his head against the cold floor, pain exploding through his skull as his vision begins to fade. The last thing he sees before everything goes dark is your terrified face, the way your lips form his name, and the cold, cruel hands dragging you away into the shadows.
And then, nothing.
----
Logan wakes up to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the distant sound of beeping monitors. His head pounds, and every muscle in his body aches as if he’s been through a war—and in some ways, he has. Groaning, he tries to sit up, but a firm hand presses him back down.
“Easy, Logan,” comes Hank’s calm, reassuring voice. “You’ve been out for a while.”
Logan blinks, his vision slowly coming into focus. He’s in the med bay, the familiar white walls and harsh fluorescent lights greeting him. Once he finally comes to his senses, and he remembers the events that transpired the previous night, he realizes none of that matters. The only thing he cares about is you.
“Where is she?” he demands as he struggles against Hank’s hold.
Hank’s expression softens with pity and concern. “She’s… Logan, they took her. We’re doing everything we can to track her down, but—”
Panic jolts through Logan like a bolt of electricity, drowning out the rest of what Hank is saying. His eyes burn as he wrenches himself free from Hank’s grasp, his voice a gruff, dangerous snarl.
“How the hell did you get me out but leave her behind? You’re telling me you saved my sorry ass and couldn’t save her?”
Hank hesitates, his features morphing into a pained look, “It wasn’t like that. We were overwhelmed. There were too many of them, and you—”
“I don’t wanna hear excuses!” Logan cries, his words echoing off the walls as he slams a fist down on the bed. The metal frame groans under the force of his anger.
At that moment, Charles Xavier wheels in, his imposing presence immediately felt within the confines of the small room. He speaks calmly, trying to cut through the fog clouding Logan’s mind. “Logan, we did everything we could. It was hard enough getting just you. We had no choice but to retreat. If we hadn’t, we might have lost you both.”
Logan’s glare could’ve burned holes through steel as he turns to Charles, nostrils flaring.
“I don’t give a damn about me! She’s out there, alone, with those bastards, and I wasn’t there to stop it. I should’ve been able to protect her.”
His fists clench, his knuckles turning white as he struggles to contain the whirlwind of emotions tearing through him. Guilt eats him from the inside out. The thought of you suffering because he wasn’t there to protect you… “You–We…We left her behind,” he mutters, voice cracking.
Charles’s voice is firm but compassionate as he addresses the younger mutant. “You need to rest and regain your strength. When the time comes, you’ll be ready to get her back—but you can’t do that if you’re broken.”
Jaw tightening, Logan leans his body forward, holding his head in his hands. His temper is boiling, he wants to tear everything apart until there is nothing left, but he knows, deep down, that Charles is right. And as much as it kills him, he has to bide his time, to heal and prepare for what is to come.
But that doesn’t make it any easier.
“Hank, get out,” he growls, “Get out before I lose it.”
Hank exchanges a worried glance with Charles before reluctantly nodding. “We’ll find her, Logan. I promise.”
After Hank leaves the room, Logan sinks back onto the bed, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself from exploding. His eyes bore into Charles’s, who remains, silently offering his support.
“When we find her,” he says, his voice low and full of promise, “there’s no holding back. I’m done waiting, done with all the excuses. She’s mine, and I’m not letting anything or anyone take her away from me again.”
----
The first thing you feel is the cold—icy, unforgiving, and seeping into your bones. Your head pounds, a dull, persistent ache that makes it hard to think, let alone move. When you try to lift your hands, you realize they are restrained, heavy iron chains biting into your wrists and pulling your arms taut above your head.
You jump to your senses, sharp and immediate, as you force your eyes open. The world is a blur at first, everything spinning and distorted. Then, as your vision clears, the reality of your situation hits you like a slap in the face.
You are in a cell. The walls are made of rough stone, the floor damp and filthy. There is barely any light, just a dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, flickering occasionally and casting long shadows that dance across the room. Your dress—the one you’d worn to the gala—is torn, the delicate fabric shredded and hanging off you in tatters. You can see your own blood between the patches that reveal your skin. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and a deep sense of dread settles in your stomach.
You try to pull against the chains, but your limbs are weak, your movements sluggish. They must have drugged you—this realization makes your heart race, fear clawing at your throat. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, no idea where you are or what they plan to do to you.
A sound from the other side of the cell catches your attention—laughter, low and mocking. You turn your head, the movement sending another wave of dizziness through your skull. Two guards stand just outside the bars, their faces twisted in cruel amusement.
“Look who’s finally awake,” one of them sneers with malice. “The mutant bitch.”
The words sting, but you refuse to show it. You force yourself to sit up straighter, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as you can muster. “Where am I?” you demand, your voice hoarse and shaky.
The guard laughs again, louder this time. “You’re in hell, sweetheart. And there’s no way out.”
His companion, a stockier man with a scar running down his cheek, steps forward, his eyes raking over you with a look that makes your skin crawl. “The boss is real interested in you, you know. He’s got plans,” he smiles, “Big plans.”
You swallow hard, fighting to keep your composure. “What do you want with me?”
“Oh, it ain’t about what we want,” the scarred guard replies, a disgusting grin spreading across his face. “It’s about what you can do. For us. You mutants think you’re so special, so powerful. But look at you now—all chained up and helpless.”
He reaches through the bars, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back. Pain shoots through your scalp, but you bite your lip, refusing to cry out. You won’t give them the satisfaction.
“Let go of me,” you hiss.
The guard’s grin widens as he leans closer, his breath hot and foul against your skin. “Make me, sweetheart. Oh, wait—you can’t.”
He laughs again, muttering to the other guard about how satisfying this is, and you feel a wave of nausea rise in your throat. You can feel the energy within you, your power that usually simmers just beneath the surface, always ready to be called upon. But now, it’s like a distant echo, muted and weak. The chains—they must be suppressing your abilities, keeping you from using your mutation.
“Your little tricks won’t work here,” the first guard taunts, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “Those chains are special, made just for freaks like you. No powers, no escape.”
You are trapped, powerless, at the mercy of these men and whoever their leader is. You know you can’t let them see your fear. You can’t let them break you.
“I’ll get out of here,” you say, keeping your voice level despite the terror gnawing at your insides. “And when I do, you’ll regret this.”
The guards exchange a glance, then burst into laughter, the sound grating and harsh in the confined space.
“Big talk for someone who’s all chained up,” the scarred guard says, releasing his grip on your hair with a rough shove that sends you sprawling back against the wall.
“You’re not getting out,” the first guard adds, his tone more serious now. “No one’s coming for you. Your friends probably think you’re dead already. It’s been days.”
For a moment, your resolve falters. What if they are right? What if the team thinks you’re gone, or worse—what if they can’t find you? But then you think of Logan, of the fierce determination in his eyes, the way he’d fought for you before. No, they wouldn’t abandon you. He wouldn’t abandon you.
“They’ll find me,” you say, the conviction in your voice surprising even you.
The guards don’t laugh this time. The scarred one scowls, stepping back from the bars. “Keep dreaming, mutant. You’re ours now.”
With that, they turn and leave, their footsteps echoing down the corridor until they fade into silence. You are alone again, the cell’s walls pressing in from all sides. Yet despite the fear, despite the pain, you hold onto that sliver of hope, that image of Logan and the others coming to your rescue.
You aren’t going to give up. Not now, not ever.
Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. The drugs are still in your system, making it hard to concentrate, but you won’t let that stop you. You start to tug at the chains again, testing their strength, trying to find any weakness, any way to break free.
It is agonizing, and with every movement, the metal digs deeper into your skin, drawing blood. But the pain keeps you focused, keeps you from slipping into despair. You have to keep going. You have to believe that Logan will come for you.
And when he does, you will be ready.
----
Weeks pass since that fateful night at the gala, weeks that feel like an eternity to Logan. Each day that you remain missing is another day of excruciating uncertainty, each hour that ticks by another reminder of his failure to protect you. The mansion, usually a place of camaraderie and purpose, has become a suffocating prison where he is forced to wait and hope—two things he has never been good at.
Charles Xavier is relentless in his search, utilizing every resource, every connection, and every ounce of his telepathic abilities to track down the organization that has taken you. The X-Men work tirelessly alongside him, scouring the globe for any trace, any whisper, that could lead them to you. Logan is a constant presence in the war room, his patience worn thin by the endless dead ends and false leads. He’s ready to go after them with nothing but his claws and a vendetta, but Charles insists on a plan, a strategy that won’t just rescue you but will dismantle the threat for good.
Finally, after weeks of frustration and relentless searching, they find something—a lead that could change everything.
Charles is in his study, surrounded by a tangle of maps, files, and reports, his mind stretched to its limits as he sifts through the chaotic swirl of information. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, he finds it—a faint, almost non-existent mental signature, hidden deep within the shadows of his mind. It’s the psychic equivalent of a whisper, a delicate thread that, when tugged, reveals a location: a remote island, far off the coast, where the organization has set up a secret base.
This base, as he quickly pieces together, is where they are holding you, along with other mutants they have captured. It’s heavily fortified, nearly impossible to reach by conventional means, and shielded against most telepathic detection. The mental signature he finds slips through only because it’s so faint, a brief lapse in their otherwise impenetrable defenses.
Charles spends days verifying the information, cross-referencing it with the intelligence they’ve gathered over the weeks. Every detail lines up—this is it. This is where they have taken you, and this is where they will launch their attack.
With the location confirmed, Charles knows he has to get the team together and act. Act fast.
----
Time loses all meaning in the cold, dark cell where you are held captive. The days and nights blur together, an endless cycle of hunger, pain, and hopelessness. The cold stone walls, once foreboding, have become your only companions, and the silence is a constant reminder of how alone you are.
Your dress is taken hours after you awake, replaced with a rough, beige prison uniform that itches against your skin. The fabric is thin, offering little protection against the freezing temperature. Your wrists and ankles ache from the tight cuffs they keep you in most of the time, the metal leaving angry red marks that never seem to fade.
They barely feed you—just enough to keep you alive, but never enough to give you any real strength. The meals are a cruel joke, infrequent and consisting of nothing more than stale bread and murky water that tastes like rust.
What makes it truly unbearable isn’t the food itself; it’s the way you are forced to consume it.
Chained to the wall, your arms shackled above your head, you can’t even feed yourself. Every day, like clockwork, one of the guards enters your cell, a twisted smirk on his face as he carries a small, dented tray of food. He kneels beside you, holding the bread just out of reach, as if daring you to try and grab it.
“Hungry?” he taunts, waving the bread in front of your face. “You look like you could use a bite.”
You glare at him, your stomach growling with hunger, but you refuse to beg. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing how desperate you are. In the end, your body’s needs always win out, and you reluctantly part your lips, letting him shove the stale, crumbling bread into your mouth.
The guard never makes it easy. He pushes the bread in too far, making you gag, or holds it just out of reach, forcing you to strain against your chains, the metal digging painfully into your wrists. When it comes time for the water, he tilts the cup too quickly, spilling most of it down your chin, leaving you with just a few precious drops to quench your thirst.
“Pathetic,” he mutters, wiping the spilled water off your face with the back of his hand in a mockery of kindness. “Can’t even eat without help.”
You swallow the bread, the dry crumbs scraping down your throat, doing your best to keep from choking. The water that follows is barely enough to wash it down, leaving your mouth dry and your hunger only partially sated.
It’s a humiliating, degrading experience, one that leaves you feeling even more powerless than the chains ever could. And that’s exactly what the guards want. Each meal is an exercise in control, a reminder that you are at their mercy, that they hold all the power.
Somehow, that still isn’t the worst of it all.
Guards come daily, sometimes in pairs, sometimes alone, always with that same twisted grin on their faces. You have learned to anticipate their visits, to prepare yourself for the taunts, the jeers, and the beatings that inevitably follow. They seem to take pleasure in your suffering, their laughter echoing off the walls as they deliver blow after blow, leaving you gasping for breath on the cold, hard floor.
Every time they come, they mock you, their voices dripping with contempt. “Where are your precious X-Men now, huh? Guess they forgot about you. Must be nice knowing no one cares enough to come get you.”
You bite your lip, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you break. But inside, the doubt begins to creep in. How long has it been? Weeks, maybe more? Surely they would have found you by now. Surely Logan is out there, tearing the world apart to find you. But as the days drag on and the beatings continue, it becomes harder to hold onto that hope.
One day, after an especially brutal session where they leave you bruised and bleeding on the floor, you find yourself laughing—a bitter, hollow sound that startles even you.
“What’s so funny?” one of the guards sneers, looking down at you with a scowl.
You lift your head, your gaze locking onto his, something defiant sparking in your eyes despite the pain. “Do you guys get off on seeing people in pain? Is this a fetish or something?”
The guard’s expression darkens with disdain, and he steps forward, delivering a swift kick to your side that makes you gasp, the air rushing out of your lungs. “Shut up!” he barks.
You cough, tasting blood on your lips, but you can’t stop the words that tumble out. “Is that all you’ve got?” you rasp, pushing yourself up onto your elbows despite the throbbing in your ribs. “I’m starting to think you’re not very good at this.”
The guard’s face twists into a snarl, and he raises his hand to strike you again, but the other guard grabs his arm, pulling him back. “Enough,” the second guard says, though his voice is more cautious now. “We’re not supposed to kill her. Not yet.”
They leave you there, crumpled on the floor, your body aching. As much as it hurts, as much as the beatings wear you down, you cling to that small act of defiance. They haven’t broken you. Not yet.
----
The tension in the war room is suffocating, the air thick with urgency and dread. The X-Men gather around the long, sleek table, the holographic map of the enemy compound glowing in the center, casting an eerie blue light across their faces. Scott stands at the head of the table, his expression stern as he outlines possible infiltration points, while Jean, Ororo, and Hank listen intently.
Logan sits at the far end, his posture rigid, every muscle in his body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. He doesn’t want to be here—doesn’t want to waste time with plans and strategies when all he can think about is you. But he knows that going off on his own, especially in his current state, would only end in disaster. So he forces himself to stay, to listen, even though every second feels like a waste.
His hands clench into fists on the table, his knuckles turning white. He can barely focus on Scott’s words, his mind consumed with images of you—frightened, abandoned, injured. The thought makes his blood boil, his claws itching to extend and tear through anything in his path.
“Logan,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “Are you with us?”
He glances up, meeting her concerned gaze. He knows she can feel his turmoil, his barely restrained anger, and that only makes him more frustrated.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he snaps.
Ororo shoots him a warning look. “We need to stay focused, Logan. Losing your temper won’t help her.”
Logan grits his teeth, biting back the retort that rises to his lips. He knows she’s right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to control the storm of emotions raging inside him. “Just tell me when we’re movin’,” he growls, his tone laced with impatience. “I’m not sittin’ around any longer while they’ve got her.”
“We all want to find her, Logan,” Scott says, “But we have to do this right. If we go in guns blazing, we could get her killed.”
“And if we wait too long, she’ll be dead anyway.”
“Logan,” Hank interjects, trying to be the voice of reason. “Scott’s right. We have to be smart about this. We’re dealing with people who have resources, power, and a deep-seated hatred for mutants. They’ll be expecting us.”
Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts again, this time in his mind, her telepathy reaching out to him. Logan, I know how much she means to you. We’re doing everything we can to bring her back. Trust us.
He shoots her a glare, not appreciating the intrusion, but he doesn’t push her away. Jean has always been the one who could reach him, even when he’s at his most stubborn. I’m not lettin’ them keep her from me any longer, Jean, he thinks back, his mental voice raw with emotion.
You won’t, Jean replies, her mental tone firm but soothing. We won’t let that happen. But you need to stay with us, Logan. We’re stronger together.
“What’s the plan?” he asks, breaking his stupor.
Charles exchanges a glance with Scott, who nods and steps forward to explain. “We’ll approach under the cover of night. Ororo will create a storm to mask our presence, and we’ll use the Blackbird to drop in undetected. Jean and I will handle disabling their telepathic defenses so we can get a read on the situation inside. Hank will take out their communications to prevent them from calling for reinforcements.”
“And me?” Logan growls, his eyes locked on the island’s location.
“You’ll be leading the assault,” Scott replies without hesitation. He can sense the violent need rattling within Logan’s bones—craving to avenge you. “Once we’ve neutralized the outer defenses, you and I will go in together. Our primary objective is to get her out—everything else is secondary. We can always go back to finish the job."
Logan’s fists clench at his sides, his claws itching to be released.
“When do we leave?”
“Tonight,” Charles answers from where he sits at the table. “We’ve waited long enough.”
Logan remains by the map while the team disperses and begins to prepare, his eyes fixed on the small island in the middle of the vast ocean. This is it. After weeks of waiting, weeks of imagining the worst, he finally has a chance to make things right.
He can almost feel the cold metal of the anti-mutant handcuffs around your wrists, the bruises on your skin from the guards’ brutality. The thought makes him see red, but beneath the rage is something even more powerful—a fierce determination to see you safe, to get you out of there and back where you belong.
Logan will lead the charge, and God help anyone who stands in his way.
As the team assembles, suited up and ready for the mission, Charles wheels over to Logan, placing a hand on his arm. “We’ll bring her home, Logan. And we’ll make sure this never happens again.”
He nods, the fire in his eyes burning brighter than ever. “We will,” he says, a dangerous growl clawing its way out of his throat, “And when I get my hands on them, they’ll wish they’d never laid a finger on her.”
With that, the team boards the Blackbird, the weight of the mission pressing down on them as they soar into the night. The storm Ororo has summoned rages around them, the skies dark and foreboding, as they approach the island. Every second brings them closer to the moment of reckoning, and Logan’s focus sharpens to a razor’s edge.
“I’m comin’ for ya, darlin’,” he murmurs under his breath, the words a promise to himself as much as to you. “Just hold on.”
----
“Approaching the drop zone,” Ororo’s calm voice comes over the comms, though the storm she controls outside is anything but calm. Lightning splits the sky, momentarily illuminating the jagged cliffs of the remote island below, their destination hidden within the darkness.
Scott cuts through the tension. “Alright, everyone. Remember the plan. Jean, Ororo, and I will handle the outer defenses. Hank, take out their communications. Logan and I will lead the assault inside. Our primary objective is to find her and get her out.”
Logan barely nods, his eyes locked on the ramp as it begins to lower. The cold wind whips through the interior of the Blackbird, carrying with it the scent of the sea and the earth below. And underneath it all, Logan can smell them—guards, weapons, blood.
“Ready?” Scott asks, glancing at Logan.
His response is a rough, feral growl. “Let’s do this.”
With a sharp nod, Scott activates the drop sequence, and Logan is the first out, dropping into the storm with the grace of a true predator. He lands in a crouch, claws out, eyes scanning the perimeter. The island is as fortified as they feared, with high walls, watchtowers, and heavily armed guards patrolling the grounds.
But none of that matters. He has one focus, one goal: finding you.
The rest of the team lands behind him, moving quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Ororo raises her hands to the sky, intensifying the storm, the wind and rain becoming a blinding force that conceals their approach. Lightning arcs overhead, briefly turning night into day, revealing the outlines of guards scrambling to respond to the sudden onslaught.
Scott gives the signal to move in, and the team splits up, each member heading to their designated targets. Jean and Ororo focus on the outer defenses, disorienting the guards with telepathic illusions and powerful gusts of wind. Hank slips into the shadows, his agile form disappearing into the underbrush as he makes his way to the communications hub.
The Wolverine moves like a shadow, traversing the rain-soaked night with deadly silence. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, every sense heightened as he approaches the main compound. The guards are on high alert, but they are no match for the X-Men. He watches as Jean’s telepathy turns their own weapons against them, as Scott’s optic blasts tear through their defenses.
But as the team advances, the guards regroup, their numbers swelling as they pour out of the compound. They aren’t going down without a fight. Logan spots a heavily armed squad taking position near a turret, their weapons trained on the team. They open fire, a barrage of bullets slicing through the air.
“Jean!” Scott shouts.
Jean extends her hands, a telekinetic shield flaring to life just in time to deflect the incoming fire. The bullets bounce off harmlessly, but the force of the attack makes it clear this isn’t going to be easy. The guards are better prepared than expected, their movements coordinated, their strategy clear: delay the X-Men as long as possible.
Logan growls in frustration, his claws itching to tear through the enemy lines. “We need to move, now!” he snarls, his voice barely audible over the storm.
Ororo nods, her eyes glowing white as she summons a powerful gust of wind, sending the guards sprawling. Scott seizes the moment, firing a series of blasts that take out the turret and send the remaining guards scattering. Still, even as they advance, more guards appear, swarming from every direction.
Hank emerges from the shadows, his blue fur slick with rain as he tackles a group of guards attempting to flank the team. He moves with agility and precision, disarming them with brutal efficiency before disappearing into the darkness once more.
Logan pushes forward, his senses locked on the main compound. Every muscle in his body is taut, ready to react, as he closes in on the entrance. But the resistance only grows fiercer the closer they get. A squad of heavily armored guards appears, their rifles spitting fire as they advance in formation.
“Ororo, cover us!”
Ororo unleashes a torrent of lightning, the bolts crackling through the air and striking the guards with dead-set accuracy. It’s almost like a scene from the gala, the guards coming in endless waves, their numbers never faltering.
Logan’s patience snaps. He shoots forward, his claws slicing through the rain, his cry echoing across the battlefield. He crashes into the line of guards, tearing through their armor as if it were paper. Blood splatters the ground, the metallic scent mixing with the rain as Logan carves a path through the enemy.
Scott and Jean are right behind him, their combined powers devastating the remaining guards. But the compound is heavily fortified, and as Logan bursts through the first door, a new wave of guards meets them head-on.
These are the elite, the best of the best, and they fight with a cold, calculated precision that makes them more dangerous than the others. Jean’s telepathy is their saving grace. She reaches into the minds of the guards, sowing confusion and fear, turning their own thoughts against them. But the strain is visible on her face, the effort of controlling so many minds at once taking its toll.
“Jean, hold on!” Scott calls.
“I’m… trying,” Jean gasps, her voice strained.
Logan knows they can’t keep this up. They have to find you, and they have to do it fast. He slams his claws into another door, splintering it into pieces, only to be met with a hail of gunfire from the guards inside. He ducks, rolling to the side as Scott’s optic blasts provide cover, the two of them working in tandem to clear the room.
“Move!” Scott shouts, and Logan surges forward, his claws tearing through the last of the guards in the corridor.
The air is thick with the smell of blood and gunpowder, but Logan doesn’t care. He can hear it—the faint sound of muffled cries, the rattling of chains. His heart pounds in his chest as he moves forward, faster now, driven by the desperate need to reach you.
Then he sees it: two hulking mercenaries guarding a heavy steel door. They are well-armed, and this time, their eyes hold no uncertainty. These are the final line of defense, the ones meant to stop anyone from getting to you.
They open fire, the bullets ricocheting off the walls, but Logan is too fast, too eager to be reunited with you. He ducks and weaves, his claws gleaming as he closes the distance. With a guttural roar, he leaps at them, his claws slashing through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch. The guards crumple to the ground, lifeless, as Logan stands over them, his chest heaving with exertion.
Without wasting a second, Logan slams his claws into the door, the metal screeching as it gives way under the force of his rage. He rips the door off its hinges, tossing it aside as if it weighs nothing. Inside, the air is heavy with the smell of damp stone and fear. And there, in the dim light of the small cell, he sees you—chained, battered, but alive.
You are slumped against the far wall of a small, dank cell, your wrists bound with the anti-mutant handcuffs, your body bruised and battered. The sight of you, so broken and vulnerable, makes Logan’s heart twist with desperation and longing. All of his fury immediately floods out of his system. He crosses the room in two strides, his claws retracting as he kneels beside you, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch your face.
“Hey, darlin’,” he whispers, “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
You stir at the sound of his voice, your eyes fluttering open as you try to focus. When you see him, a weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Logan…”
“Shh,” he soothes, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m gettin’ you outta here.”
He quickly reaches for the handcuffs, his claws slicing through the metal with ease. The moment they fall away, you feel a sudden surge of power within you, like a dam breaking, your abilities rushing back after being suppressed for so long. You slump forward into his arms, too weak to hold yourself up. Logan’s heart breaks at the feel of your frail body against his, but he holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.
“Can you walk?”
You nod, though it’s clear the effort costs you. “I… I think so.”
Logan helps you to your feet, his arm supporting you as you lean heavily against him. Every step is a struggle, but he’s right there with you. Making your way out of the cell, the sounds of battle grow louder, the chaos of the X-Men’s assault reaching its peak.
“We gotta move fast,” Logan mutters tensely, “But I’m not lettin’ go of you. We’re gettin’ outta here together.”
He keeps a firm grip on you, his entire focus on getting you out of this hellhole. The whole island around you is in shambles, the walls of your prison shaking with the force of explosions and the sharp crack of energy blasts. The X-Men are relentless, cutting down the remaining guards with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Scott and Hank’s voices echo through the comms, issuing orders and coordinating the team’s movements.
Everything fades into the background—the sounds of battle, the flashes of light, the scent of blood and smoke.
All Logan can concentrate on is the fragile feel of your hand in his, your fingers moving shakily against his rough skin, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you struggle to keep going.
“Stay with me, darlin’,” he rasps, urging you, “We’re almost out. Just hold on a little longer.”
Your fingers tighten around his, as if letting go would mean losing him again. The two of you move as one, your bodies pressed together as you navigate through the debris and destruction. The storm outside mirrors the one within him, but as long as you’re with him, he knows he can weather it.
When the exit finally comes into view, the cold night air hits you both, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the compound. The Blackbird is waiting, its ramp lowered, and the sight of it brings a surge of relief so powerful it nearly buckles your knees. But Logan is there, his arm wrapped securely around you, practically carrying you up the ramp.
Finally in the jet, the familiar hum of the engines fills the cabin, a soothing backdrop to the storm raging outside. Neither of you cares about the storm or the battle left behind. The only thing that matters is that you’re together.
Logan guides you to a seat, but instead of sitting beside you, he pulls you into his lap, holding you as close as he can. You don’t resist, your arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. In many ways, he is.
Hank approaches, concern etched across his face, but Logan barely glances at him. His focus is entirely on you, his hand brushing your hair back from your face, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that have begun to fall—not from pain, but from the overwhelming relief of being safe, of being with him.
“You’re safe now,” he murmurs, his lips pressing soft, reassuring kisses into your hair. “I’ve got you. I’m not lettin’ you go.”
You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you cling to him. Each touch, every whispered word, acts like a balm to the wounds you have endured. You can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his heart pounds against your chest.
“I knew you’d come… but you guys took a lot longer than I was expecting,” you whisper, trying to bring a hint of your usual humor into your voice, “made me look a little stupid in front of those guards.”
Logan’s arms tighten around you. “I’m here, sweets. I’m right here. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
He continues to kiss your hair, his rough, calloused hands gently cradling your face as he wipes away your tears. Neither of you wants to let go, the fear of losing each other again too fresh, too real.
Logan’s lips brush against your temple, a tender, lingering kiss that conveys more than words ever could. “I’ve got you,” he repeats, over and over again. “Nothin’s gonna happen to you again.”
You nod, unable to speak, but your grip on him tightens, your heart finally beginning to calm as you rest in his arms. For the first time since your capture, you feel safe. Truly safe. And it’s all because of him.
----
Returning to the mansion after the rescue is a blur of activity, concern, and overwhelming relief. The moment you touch down, you’re rushed to the med bay, surrounded by familiar faces, each one filled with a mixture of worry and hope.
The sterile white walls of the med bay feel oddly comforting now, compared to the cold, damp cell you were held in. You’re laid gently on a bed, Hank and Jean immediately setting to work, checking your vitals, assessing your injuries. Their voices are calm and reassuring, but you barely hear them. Your mind is still reeling, your body still trembling from the whole ordeal.
Logan never leaves your side. Even as Hank and Jean move around you, speaking in low tones about your condition, he’s there, a grounding force. He holds your hand through it all, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. Whenever your eyes flutter open, his are there, locked on yours, filled with a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart ache.
Hank and Jean make sure you’re well-fed, insisting on regular meals to help you regain your strength. Plates of warm, nourishing food are brought to you, and though you have little appetite at first, Logan’s gentle encouragement coaxes you to eat. He sits with you, holding your hand while you slowly nibble at the food, his deep voice murmuring soft words of reassurance and comfort.
“Just a little more, darlin’,” he says, his tone comforting. “You need to get your strength back.”
You nod, taking another bite, the warmth of the food spreading through you, bringing with it a sense of safety and normalcy that you hadn’t felt in what seems like forever.
Nights are the hardest. The darkness brings with it the memories of the cell, the guards, the pain, and the fear. You often wake in a panic, your heart racing, the shadows of the past closing in around you. But every time, Logan is there, pulling you into his arms, whispering reassurances until the terror subsides.
Logan, for his part, is dealing with his own demons. You can see it in the way his jaw tightens when he thinks you aren’t looking, the way his eyes darken when he hears you gasp in pain or when your hand trembles as you reach for something. He’s haunted by what happened, by the fact that he hadn’t been able to protect you from the start. You know he’s carrying a heavy burden of guilt, and it tears at your heart to see him so troubled.
He tries to hide it, of course—tries to be strong for you. However, in the quiet moments, when the mansion is still and the only sound is the soft beep of the heart monitor, he lets his guard down. He sits beside you, his head bowed, his hand holding yours as if afraid you might slip away if he lets go. And in those moments, you can see the depth of his pain, the way it eats at him from the inside.
On one occasion, after a particularly vivid nightmare leaves you shaky and breathless, Logan pulls you into his lap, holding you close as he murmurs words of comfort. As you cry, he holds you tighter, his voice breaking as he whispers, “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”
You pull back just enough to look up at him, your heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. “Logan, it wasn’t your fault,” you say, as many times as you need to, if it means he’ll stop feeling this way. “You saved me. You found me.”
He shakes his head, his grip on you tightening as if trying to anchor himself. “I should have been there sooner. I should have—”
“No,” you interrupt, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You did everything you could. You saved me. You brought me home.”
His eyes close at your words, a single tear slipping down his cheek. “I can’t lose you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
“You won’t,” you promise, and you mean it.
----
When you’re finally discharged from the med bay, it feels like a victory—a hard-won battle that leaves you both relieved and eager to reclaim your life. Your strength has returned, slowly but surely, and now, after weeks of healing and recovery, you’re ready to start training again. The thought of moving your body, of pushing your limits, fills you with a renewed sense of purpose.
But there’s one thing you hadn’t counted on—Logan.
Ever since the rescue, he’s been by your side, a constant, unyielding presence. At first, you appreciated it—you truly did—his steady support, his silent vigilance, the way he seemed to always know when you needed a comforting word or a strong arm to lean on. Yet now, as you step back into the training room, ready to test your limits again, his presence is starting to feel more like a shadow you can’t shake.
“Logan,” you say, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice as you stretch, your muscles still tight from the weeks of inactivity. “You don’t have to watch me like a hawk. I’m fine. Really.”
He doesn’t respond right away, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall, his sharp eyes never leaving you. The intensity of his gaze is almost suffocating.
“I know. You’re strong,” he finally says, “But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna stand by and let you push yourself too hard.”
You sigh, rolling your shoulders as you turn to face him fully. “I’m not made of glass. I need to do this. I need to get back to where I was. The fight isn't finished.”
He pushes off the wall, his expression hardening as he takes a step closer to you. “And I’m not sayin’ you can’t. I just… I don’t want you to go through this alone.”
Something in his voice makes you pause, the frustration fading away as you look at him more closely. There’s a tension in his posture, tension that hadn’t been there before, and the way he’s looking at you—it isn’t just concern. It’s something deeper.
“I’m not alone,” you assure him. “I’ve got the whole team behind me. I’ve got you.”
He holds your gaze for a long moment, letting the moment pass between you, and then he exhales deeply, as if bracing himself for what he’s about to say. “You know, when you were gone… I told Charles I wouldn’t hold back anymore.”
His words catch you off guard, and your brow furrows in confusion. “Hold back?”
Logan takes another step closer, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right way to explain.
“I told him that if we found you, if we got you back safe… I wasn’t gonna keep my feelings locked up anymore. I’ve been doin’ it for too long, and when I almost lost you… it made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t care as much as I do.”
You know what he’s trying to say. The charged energy between you, all the banter—it was never just friendly. It was more than that—something neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud, but it was there. You’d never been just teammates, and deep down, you both understood that.
He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his grip firm but gentle. “I’m in love with you,” he confesses, his voice deep and hoarse, filled with all the emotion he’s kept bottled up for so long. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but I was too damn stubborn to admit it. But after what happened, after goin' through all that…”
He lets his voice trail off. Your heart pounds in your chest, the truth of his words resonating deep within you. You’ve always sensed the undercurrent of something more between you two, something that made every shared glance, every sarcastic quip, feel like a promise unfulfilled. Hearing Logan finally admit it, finally put words to what had always been there, makes your breath catch, your mind soar with joy.
“I know,” you confess back, “I think I’ve always known. But I was afraid to push, afraid to break whatever it was we had. I’ve felt it too. I always have.”
Logan’s eyes widen slightly at your confession, relief flooding his features, the hard lines of tension softening as if a great burden has been lifted from his shoulders. For a long, heart-stopping moment, the two of you just stare at each other.
Then, as if pulled together by the same magnetic force, you and Logan surge forward simultaneously. The distance between you vanishes in an instant, and your lips meet in a fierce, passionate kiss that speaks of all the pent-up passion and unspoken words you’d both kept buried for so long.
His hands roam your body with an urgency that borders on desperation, as if he’s making sure this is real—that you’re truly there, in front of him, kissing him. His fingers trace the curve of your back, the line of your shoulders, and then tighten their grip as he pulls you even closer, his touch firm and possessive. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding onto him with just as much need.
The kiss is everything—relief, passion, love—all rolled into one overwhelming, breathtaking moment that makes your head spin and your knees weak.
When you finally break apart, gasping for breath, Logan doesn’t move away. His forehead rests against yours, but the distance between you seems to close even further, if that were possible. His hands grip you tightly, as if you’re the only thing anchoring him to reality. He’s consumed by you, by the feel of your body against his, by the taste of your lips, by the sheer relief that you’re here, safe, and his. His breath is ragged, his heart pounding, and when he opens his eyes, they’re filled with a raw, burning intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
“God, I don’t want to let you go,” he whispers.
His hands roam your back again, as if reassuring himself that you’re really there, that you’re not some illusion that will slip away the moment he loosens his grip.
You smile softly, though your heart is still racing from the intensity of the moment. “I don’t want you to let go either,” you whisper back. “But… I still need to be independent. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet.”
His gaze tightens a bit, and you can see that he’s torn between the overwhelming urge to protect you and the understanding that you’re right. His eyes search your face, as if trying to reconcile his deep-seated fear with the reality of who you are.
“I just… I don’t know how to give you space,” he admits, “Not after everything that’s happened.”
You smile gently, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You don’t have to step away,” you reassure him. “But you do have to let me stand beside you, not behind you. We’re in this together,” you kiss him again, “They’re still out there. The mission isn’t over.”
Logan’s hands tighten on your waist for a moment, as if his instincts are against the idea of giving you any distance at all, against the idea of you throwing yourself back into the fight. But then, after a long pause, he slowly, reluctantly nods. “I’ll do my best,” he murmurs. “I can’t promise I won’t want to keep you close… but I’ll try to give you the space you need.”
Your heart warms at his words, recognizing the struggle he’s willing to endure for your sake. “That’s all I’m asking for,” you reply, your voice tender as you lean in for another kiss.
[END OF PART ONE]
-----
A/N: Phew! Part one done, and part two is on the way -- it'll be up by the end of the weekend. Please comment or send me a message if you'd like to be tagged in the next part. Hope you liked the story!
2K notes · View notes
valkyriexo · 3 months ago
Text
Work of Art | Hyunjin
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ᑉ³pairing; Best Friend Hyunjin x Reader
ᑉ³genre; Angst (ish?), Smut
ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI, Jealousy, dirty talk, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex , fingering, edging, Semi-public sex, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact
ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner @skzdreamer13 (sorry it took so long ! ) Also... this is a bit longer then i intended it to be i got... carried away hehehe
Tumblr media
The art studio smells like paint, the familiar scent swirling in the air as you dip your brush into a swirl of color. The canvas in front of you is slowly taking shape, the blend of pastel blues and soft pinks beginning to resemble the hazy skyline of a dreamscape you’ve been envisioning for weeks. You’ve lost track of how many hours you’ve spent on it, layering colors, fine-tuning the details, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve always loved getting lost in your work.
Across the room, Hyunjin sits at his usual spot by the window, sketchbook propped on his knee as he sketches something you can’t quite see from where you stand. It’s comfortable, familiar, the two of you working in companionable silence. Every now and then, you glance up to find him already looking at you, eyes soft and focused, like he’s trying to memorize every detail of the moment.
You’ve been friends for what feels like forever, bonded over late nights in this very studio, sharing music while you worked side by side.
It’s...... easy with him, always has been.
Hyunjin is the kind of person who understands you without you needing to say anything. He knows your moods, can read the subtlest change in your expression, and you’ve always been able to share everything with him — your art, your frustrations, your dreams. This studio was your place. You’d both stay long after everyone else left, the hum of creativity and quiet conversation filling the space between you.
“What do you think?” you ask, turning your canvas toward him. His opinion has always mattered to you. Hyunjin’s eye for detail is sharp, but more than that, you trust him to be honest.
He looks up, his gaze landing on the canvas. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his eyes softening as he takes it in. “It’s beautiful,” he says, voice low, almost reverent. “There’s something... ethereal about it. It feels like a memory.”
Your heart flutters at his words, the compliment striking deeper than it should. “That’s what I was going for,” you say, stepping back to look at your painting again.
Hyunjin nods, his gaze flickering back to the painting. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just studies it with that intense focus he always has when he’s taking something in. Then, quietly, he says, “You always manage to put so much feeling into your work. It’s one of the things I... admire about you.”
There’s a softness in his voice that makes your heart skip, something unspoken in the way he says those last words. He doesn’t look at you when he says it, his eyes still fixed on the canvas, but there’s an underlying tenderness that you can’t quite ignore.
You open your mouth to respond, to say something — anything — but the air feels thick with something you can’t name, and before you can find the right words, the door to the studio swings open.
Han walks into the studio, a burst of energy and excitement trailing in his wake. He’s carrying a bag of takeout, the aroma of food filling the air as he enters. His face is lit up with a wide, enthusiastic grin, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement.
“Hey, everyone!” Han’s cheerful voice fills the studio as he strides in with takeout. “Thought you might be hungry.”
You turn to greet him, your mood lifting at the sight of his familiar, easygoing smile. Han sets the bags of food on the table with a casual grace. “I brought some takeout. Figured you two could use a break.”
“Thanks, Han,” you say, trying to keep the atmosphere light. You catch Hyunjin’s reaction from the corner of your eye. His smile tightens just a fraction, and he shifts his gaze back to his sketchbook, an unreadable expression settling on his face.
“Perfect timing,” Hyunjin says, his voice polite but lacking its usual warmth. “We could use a break.”
Han begins unpacking the food, his eyes bright as he glances at your painting. “Wow, Y/N, that’s incredible,” he says with genuine admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”
You smile at the praise, feeling a warm flutter at Han’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, Han. I’ve been working on it for a while.”
As Han continues to unpack the food, you notice Hyunjin’s shoulders are tense, his focus remaining on his sketchbook. There’s a subtle shift in the air, a change you can’t quite place but that feels almost tangible.
“Mind if I join in?” Han asks, setting up a plate of food for you and Hyunjin. His casual tone and easy smile make it clear he’s just as comfortable here as he is anywhere else.
“Of course,” you reply, “It’s good to have you here.”
Hyunjin finally looks up, his gaze fleetingly meeting yours before he returns to his sketchbook. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a break,” he says, his tone once again polite but detached.
As you all sit down to eat, you find yourself drawn into Han’s stories and jokes, your laughter mingling with his. It’s clear that you’re enjoying his company, and you can’t help but notice how his presence brings a different kind of energy to the studio.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, remains subdued. He joins in the conversation, but his responses are brief, and his attention seems.....
....divided.
The studio hums with the soft sounds of conversation and the clinking of utensils as Han continues to engage with you and Hyunjin over lunch. His attention is focused on you, and you can’t miss the playful glint in his eyes.
Lately, Han has been visiting the studio more frequently. At first, it was just a casual drop-in here and there, but recently, he’s been making it a regular thing. The three of you have been spending a lot of time together, discussing art, sharing ideas, and even grabbing lunch like today. His presence has added a new dynamic to your studio time, and you can’t deny that it’s been refreshing.
When Han started coming around more, it felt like a natural extension of your routine. He’d drop by with coffee or lunch, sometimes bringing along his own sketches to work on. You found some joy in his company , and it was easy to get lost in conversation with him. His enthusiasm for art matched yours, and his friendly, easygoing nature made him a great addition to your creative space.
The more Han visited, the more you two grew close. You started to look forward to his presence, finding comfort and inspiration in his company. You’d often stay late into the evening, chatting about everything from art to life.
But with Han’s increased presence, something shifted. You noticed how your interactions with Hyunjin became less frequent. Where you used to work side by side, sharing thoughts and critiques, you now found yourself pulled into conversations with Han. 
“So, Y/N,” Han starts, leaning slightly closer with a teasing smile. “How do you manage to make everything look so effortless? I’ve seen your work, and I know it’s anything but.”
You laugh, a bit flustered by his directness. “It’s a lot of practice and maybe a bit of luck,” you reply, trying to keep things light.
Han grins, his gaze lingering on you. He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’d say it’s definitely more than luck. I’ve seen your paintings turn into something incredible. Maybe you’ve got a secret.”
You feel your cheeks warm at his touch and compliment. “Maybe I do,” you say, matching his playful tone. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to share it just yet.”
Han chuckles softly and reaches over to hand you a paintbrush, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Well, if you ever decide to let me in on that secret, I’d be more than happy to help you with it.” He gets a little closer, his arm grazing yours as he leans in. “You know,” he says, leaning in a little closer, “I was thinking... maybe we should test that theory. How about we paint something together one day? I’ve got some ideas and I think it could be a lot of fun.”
“That sounds interesting. What kind of ideas do you have in mind?” you reply.
Just as he starts to respond, Hyunjin, who has been quietly watching, stands up abruptly. His voice, though calm, carries an unmistakable edge. “It’s getting late,” he says, his gaze flickering between you and Han. “I think it’s time to wrap things up for today. Y/N, you should probably head home too.”
Han’s expression shifts from playful to slightly confused. “Already? I was just about to ask Y/N to—”
Hyunjin cuts him off with a firm yet polite tone. “I’m sorry, Han, but we’ve all had a long day. We can catch up on the details another time. Y/N, let’s get going.”
You glance at Han, his eyes reflecting a mix of disappointment and surprise, before turning to Hyunjin. “Yeah, I guess it is getting late,” you agree, though you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you stand up.
Han’s disappointment is evident as he offers you a small, wistful smile. “Alright, Y/N. We’ll talk about it soon. Have a good night.” His words are warm, but there’s a hint of frustration in his eyes as he gathers his things.
As Han exits the studio, you turn to find Hyunjin already heading towards the door, his expression a mix of frustration and anger. He’s usually so composed, but there’s something in his demeanor tonight that feels sharp and unsettled.
“Hyunjin, wait up,” you call, catching up to him as he moves toward the entrance. The studio is now quiet, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation replaced by an uneasy silence.
Hyunjin stops and turns to face you, his gaze intense. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to rush you, but..." He pauses, his voice faltering slightly as he searches for the right words.
“Actually, never mind,” he says abruptly, his tone shifting to a forced calm. “Have a good night, Y/N.”
He begins to walk toward the door, but you reach out, your voice trembling slightly. “But, Hyunjin? What’s wrong?”
Hyunjin stops, his back to you, and for a moment, you can see the conflict warring within him. He turns his head slightly, but the emotion in his eyes is hard to decipher.
"You've...you’ve been spending a lot of time with Han lately.”
You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “He’s been coming by the studio more often. We’ve just been working on some ideas together.”
Hyunjin’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “I’ve noticed. It’s just—” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair. “Never mind. It’s none of my business who you spend your time with.”
Hyunjin’s frustration is palpable as he crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on the floor. The usually calm and collected friend is now visibly shaken, and the intensity in his voice is unmistakable.
“Hyunjin, what's wrong?” you ask, concern evident in your voice.
Hyunjin looks up, his expression hardening. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, his voice clipped. “I’ll stop interrupting your time with Han.”
Before you can react, he turns away from you, heading towards the door. The sudden shift in his demeanor makes your heart ache, and you can’t just let him leave like this.
“No, wait!” you call out, rushing to catch up with him. “Hyunjin, please, don’t go. We need to talk about this.”
Hyunjin pauses but doesn’t turn around. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he replies, his tone flat. “I just... need some time alone. It’s better this way.”
You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Hyunjin, don’t shut me out. We’ve always been able to talk through things. I don’t want to lose our friendship over this.”
Hyunjin stiffens under your touch and then turns to face you, his eyes blazing with an emotion you hadn’t expected. The usually composed and easygoing Hyunjin is now a whirlwind of frustration and jealousy, his features tense and his jaw set tight. The raw intensity in his gaze is something you’ve never seen before — a mix of hurt and anger that makes your heart ache.
You’re taken aback by his intensity. “Han’s just been trying to be friendly and lighten the mood. I didn’t think it was anything more than him wanting to hang out and have a good time.”
“Are you seriously that oblivious?” he snaps, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. “I’ve been sitting here, watching him flirt with you, and all you seem to notice is how charming he is.”
Hyunjin’s voice trembles with frustration. “It’s not just about him being friendly! It’s about watching you with someone else, someone who’s clearly interested in you. And while he’s making moves, I’m just supposed to sit here and pretend it doesn’t bother me?”
You feel a pang of guilt, your own emotions a whirlwind of confusion and concern. “Hyunjin, I—”
“Do you really not get it?” he interrupts, his tone harsh and edged. “I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been hiding it for so long, thinking maybe it would go away or that it didn’t matter because we’re friends. But seeing you with Han, seeing how easily he gets to be close to you, it’s like... it’s tearing me apart.”
He stands there, struggling to keep his composure, his breath coming in uneven gasps.
“I... I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Hyunjin, I never imagined you could feel this way. I thought... I always thought you’d see me as just a friend, nothing more. Why would you ever think that—”
Hyunjin interrupts, his voice strained. “Because you are special to me. I’ve been falling for you for so long, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, hoping it would go away. I’m sorry if I’ve been selfish, but it’s killing me to see you with him when all I want is to be close to you.”
He pauses, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself. “But I’ll give you space since it’s clear the feelings aren’t the same. I’m sorry for bringing this on you.” His voice is barely above a whisper, filled with regret and resignation.
Before you can find the right words to respond, before you can process the whirlwind of emotions, Hyunjin turns abruptly and walks toward the door. His steps are heavy, each one echoing the weight of his confession.
“Hyunjin, wait!” you call out, but he doesn’t turn back. The door closes softly behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet studio, your heart pounding.
You stand there, stunned and at a loss, the room feeling colder and emptier than before. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered. Your vision blurs with tears, and you try to hold them back, but they come uncontrollably. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sobs that escape.
You’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but you never dared to hope he could feel the same way.Standing there, tears streaming down your face, you clutch the edges of the doorframe, trying to ground yourself.
You take a shaky breath, desperately trying to compose yourself. With trembling hands, you wipe at your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, attempting to pull yourself together.
Summoning all the strength you have left, you push open the door and step out into the dimly lit hallway. The cool air hits your tear-streaked face, but it does little to soothe the turmoil you.
As you open the door, you come face-to-face with Hyunjin, who is standing right outside, as if he was about to come back in. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees you crying, and his expression shifts from pained resignation to a mix of shock and vulnerability.
You both stand there for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words and raw emotion. Hyunjin's eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks as though he's been caught in a moment of hesitation, his own tears glistening in his eyes.
Hyunjin’s gaze drops, and he looks away, clearly struggling with his emotions. “I was just—” he starts, but his voice falters, and he wipes at his eyes quickly, as if trying to regain his composure.
As you both stand there, Hyunjin's gaze slowly meets yours. There’s a mix of desperation and hope in his eyes, as if he’s grappling with the urge to fix what’s been broken.
His expression softens, and with a trembling breath, he takes a step closer to you. The space between you seems to shrink as he closes the distance, his movements slow and deliberate.
Without a word, Hyunjin gently places his hands on your cheeks, his touch tender and warm. His eyes search yours for a moment longer, as if asking for permission. Then, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both soft and filled with emotion.
The kiss is hesitant at first, but it deepens as he pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours with a sense of longing and desperation. You can feel the trembling in his hands
As Hyunjin’s kiss deepens, it feels as though time stands still, the world outside the studio fading away. The intensity of the moment pushes you both backward, and with each tender touch of his lips, you find yourselves moving slowly but inevitably back into the studio, the door closing shut behind him.
The kiss continues, now more urgent and passionate, as if he’s trying to pour all the words he can’t express into this one moment.
When the kiss finally breaks, you both stand there, breathless and slightly disheveled, still close together. Hyunjin’s gaze is tender, and he looks at you with a mixture of relief and hope.
"Why me? I don’t get it” you say.
Hyunjin’s smile widens, and he gently wipes away a tear from your cheek. “Why you? Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted—kind, talented, and absolutely incredible.Because you’re like your art—full of beauty and emotion. Every piece you create reveals a part of you, and I’ve been captivated by that. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to show you just how much you mean to me.”
He kisses you again, this time more desparetly, as if he needs to breathe and your his oxygen.
You can feel his hand slide down your body and he takes your hand in his. You feel your own heart skip a beat, and you can't help but smile as you continue to kiss, as he pushes you back allowing you to sit up on one of the tables in the studio. He takes the opportunity to put his body between your legs. 
His tongue explores your mouth, and you can’t help but respond, your own tongue dueling with his.
You can feel the heat radiating from his body. Your hands reach up to touch his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath your fingertips, and Hyunjin lets out a low groan, his eyes darkening with desire.
“Fuck, I want you,” he growls, his hand gripping your hip tightly.
You can feel his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly, your own desire building up inside of you.     
You break the kiss, gasping for breath. Hyunjin’s lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. You arch your back, moaning as his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples through the fabric of your shirt.
“Hyunjin, please,” you beg, your hands tugging at his shirt.He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You can’t help but stare at his muscular chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs. 
He smiles, looking at you, as if asking for permission with his eyes. You nod and his hands reach towards you to unbutton your shirt. You undo your bra on your own, and together both items fall to the ground. You blush as he stares at you.    
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts and squeezing gently.
You moan, your nipples hardening under his touch. You can feel your wetness soaking through your panties, and you grind your hips against Hyunjin’s. He groans, both hands now gripping your hips tighter.
Hyunjin leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking gently. You try to stifle your moan, your hands gripping his hair as he switches to the other nipple, biting down gently. His lips trail back up to your neck as his hands begin to slide down the sides of your body.
His fingers find their way to your panties.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls, his fingers tracing the lines of your panties.
You moan, your hips bucking as his fingers slip under your panties and into your wetness. He strokes your clit, and you cry out, your orgasm building up inside of you. Hyunjin continues to stroke you, his fingers moving faster and faster. His fingers are long and slender, and you can feel them stroking you from the inside.
"Oh g-god, Hyunjin" you say, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.
"Yeah? Does that feel good baby?" Hearing him call you "baby" sends a flutter through your chest, a warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach. It’s not just the word — it’s the way he says it, soft and full of affection, like it belongs only to you. You’ve heard the word before, but from his lips, it feels different — intimate, tender, and so undeniably right.
Your legs begin to tremble as your orgasm builds. Hyunjin kisses you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers continue to move inside you.
You break the kiss, gasping for breath. "d-don't stop" you whine. Hyunjin continues to kiss you, swallowing your cries as his pace speeds up. You grab onto Hyunjin's shoulders as you begin to ride his fingers, your body trembling with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm going to cum," you cry, as your orgasm approaches.
"Not yet," he whispers and you feel as he pulls his fingers out of you. "I want your cum on my cock."
You blush, as his hands reach down to unbutton his pants. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. His erection springs free, and you can’t help but stare at it.
 “Do you want this?” he asks, his hand wrapping around his cock and stroking it slowly.
    You nod, your hand reaching out to touch him. Hyunjin groans, his hips thrusting forward as your hand wraps around his cock. You stroke him slowly, matching his rhythm. You pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip, and you could hear him whine.
   “Fuck, that feels good,” he says as he slowly spread open your legs. He pushes you back a little to line his tip up to your entrance.
"You ready for me?" he asks, teasingly.
"Please," you reply, desperately.
He pushes in, his cock stretching you open as he enters you. You moan, your hands gripping his arms as he begins to move, thrusting slowly at first.
"Please, Hyunjin, please." You begged, as your eyes closed from the pleasure.
"God, you're so tight," he groans, his hands gripping your hips, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, back out, and back in again.
and he feels SO good.
And then he stops..... while still inside you.
Confused, you open your eyes to see a frozen Hyunjin. “What’s wrong?” you ask.
“I-I...." he stutters. Hyunjin’s face pales as his eyes dart nervously to the canvas behind you. "I spilled paint,” he says, gesturing to the canvas behind you. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, visibly distressed. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know you worked so hard on it, and I just... ruined it.” His voice breaks slightly, and he looks away, unable to meet your gaze.
You look at the canvas, your heart sinking a little. The once vibrant colors you’d carefully layered over days of meticulous work are now smeared and distorted by splashes of dark paint. What was supposed to be a serene landscape, full of soft pastels and warm hues, is now marred by streaks of harsh, misplaced colors running down the surface.
"It was perfect, and I ruined it," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I know how much this meant to you."
Hyunjin’s hand is covered in streaks of dark paint from knocking over the paint, and you can see how the paint has seeped into the creases of his hands, clinging to him like guilt.
He stares at his hand, then back at the ruined painting, shaking his head. "I should’ve been more careful," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this... I can't believe I did this to your work."
He looks up, shocked. "Y/N..."
"Hyunjin," you say. "It's okay. It's just paint."
"But..." he starts.
You cut him off with a kiss. "I'd rather have you than the painting," you whisper. "Besides I think your art is prettier than mine."
"You...you do?"
"Mmhm," You say nodding your head."Besides....I always said I wanted you to paint me one day..."
" You want me to paint you?"
You answer his question by moving his paint coated hands together and placing them both on your chest, leaving his paint handprints right on you.
You've never done anything like this before, but the idea of being so intimate with Hyunjin is incredibly arousing.
   You gasp at the sensation, your body trembling with desire. Hyunjin's touch is electric, and you can't help but moan as he continues to explore your body with his fingers. He moves one of his hands and traces a finger over your collarbone, leaving a trail of paint in its wake.
You feel as he begins to thrust into you again.
Your eyes close from the pleasure, and you moan as his cock fills you completely.
"Oh fuck," you say, your voice cracking. You feel Hyunjin's pace quicken as his cock continues to pound into you. His hands roam, allowing more paint to make its way onto your body. You place your hands into an open yellow and purple paint nearby and place your hands on his chest, covering him with paint as well.
"Oh fuck," Hyunjin growls, his voice hoarse with lust. He grabs you by the hips, and lifts you off the table.
"Wrap your legs around me," he says.
You do as he asks, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. His cock is still buried deep inside you, and the new angle sends shivers of pleasure through your body.
"That's it," he says, his voice husky. "Hold on tight."
He begins to move again, his pace quickening as he pounds into you, his cock hitting just the right spot inside you.
You cling to him, your arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried in his shoulder. You can't help but cry out as your orgasm approaches.
"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, your body trembling. "I'm gonna come."
"Yeah?" he says. "Me too."
His thrusts become faster, harder, as he pounds into you. Your cries echo in the room, and you feel him throb inside you.
"Come for me, Y/N," he growls.
"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, as your orgasm hits, your nails digging into his shoulders. He continues to thrust into you, drawing out your pleasure. You cling to him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure wash over you.
"Fuck," Hyunjin groans, as he comes, his cock pulsing inside you, completing the masterpiece by painting your walls.
    When you finally come down from your orgasm, you look down at Hyunjin and see that he's covered in paint. His face, his hair, and even his clothes are covered in a rainbow of colors.
    You can't help but laugh at the sight, and Hyunjin joins in your laughter.
"You look beautiful," he says with a soft smile, his eyes tracing your features. "Like a work of art. Something I'd spend hours admiring, and still, it wouldn't be enough." He places you back down on the table and pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours.
    The two of you stay there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, before you finally break away.
    "We should.... clean up," you say, gesturing to the paint that's covering both of your bodies.
    Hyunjin nods in agreement, but neither of you move.
Instead, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"We'll get cleaned up soon," he says, his voice soft and tender.
"Right now, I just want to hold you."
You smile, a wave of happiness washing over you. "I'd like that," you say, nuzzling against his chest.
Tumblr media
ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 
ઇ Taglist
@skzstarnet @supernovanetwork @k-labels
@kayleefriedchicken  @stellasays45 @beautyandmentalbreakdown @bo-fairykim @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad
@onlyhyunjin @oddracha @karatlima @everythingboutkpop @grandma143
@ayyonoona @iiriam @dandelions-143@dithammack @ch4nn13luv
@chrizzztopherbang @Palindrome969 @kimahreummm
Want to be addedto the taglist? click here
Want to be removed from the taglist? send me a message <3
962 notes · View notes
astrocafecoffee · 4 days ago
Text
Northnode in natal chart ✨
Tumblr media
🩵 FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY, ENJOY 🩵
~~~~~~~~~~~~~🫧🫧~~~~~~~~~~~~~
🩵 MASTERLIST
~~~~~~~~~~~~~🫧🫧~~~~~~~~~~~~~
🫧 Northnode in 1st H/ Aries
-This placement often indicates that you will have to work through significant personal fears and doubts about your own identity. Early in life, you might feel a strong sense of insecurity or even self-doubt when it comes to expressing yourself. You may find yourself hesitating to take the lead or assert your own opinions because you fear rejection or standing out. Interestingly, people with the North Node in the 1st House often have a strong pull toward blending in or seeking validation from others (perhaps from relationships or groups). So, the struggle here is that even if your soul’s path calls for independence, there can be an intense inner conflict where you feel torn between wanting to please others or simply follow the crowd, and the urge to step into your own light, which can feel scary. The key to this placement is not just “be yourself” in a surface-level way, but rather to understand your true self at a soul level, and be brave enough to fully embody that identity. For many, this process involves a long-term journey of shedding old layers of self-doubt, fears of standing out, and dependency on others approval. This isn’t always an easy or immediate process, but once you start stepping into your own individuality and authority, you’ll begin to feel like you’re finally on the right track.You might also face circumstances in life that push you toward self-assertion, sometimes in challenging ways,like being put in positions where you’re forced to take the lead, make decisions for yourself, or stand alone. While these situations can feel uncomfortable, they are exactly what you need to develop that inner strength and leadership ability. Ultimately, your life’s path isn’t just about becoming independent; it’s about developing a deep sense of personal authority and trust in your own inner wisdom. The transformation here is about owning your individuality and making decisions that reflect who you truly are, even if it means stepping away from relationships or situations that once defined you. Over time, as you embrace this journey, you’ll come to realize that being true to yourself and acting from that place is the most fulfilling way to live.
🫧 Northnode in 2nd H/ Taurus -
- North Node in the 2nd suggests that you might be learning to trust your inner voice and instincts more. You’re meant to trust yourself to make decisions about what’s important to you and what you value. It can take time, but once you start trusting your own choices, life will feel more aligned.you may have a tendency to rely on others for your security (emotionally or financially). With your North Node in the 2nd house, you're being called to become more independent. This might mean learning how to create your own wealth, be self-sufficient emotionally, or even building your own sense of confidence.Sometimes, with a North Node in the 2nd, there's a tug between focusing on material things and feeling guilty about it. You might feel the pull to be "spiritual" or above material concerns. However, the 2nd house teaches that material wealth isn't bad, it’s how you use it and how it connects to your values that matters. You may need to find a balance between material security and your higher goals.You might be drawn toward developing skills or hobbies that have a tangible, practical outcome, like making things with your hands or developing a specific craft. With North Node here, it can feel very fulfilling to build something of value, whether it’s a physical object or something that brings you long-term security.
🫧 Northnode in 3H / Gemini
-With the North Node in the 3rd, you’re being called to move away from abstract thinking and to focus more on practical, grounded communication. It’s about being less "head in the clouds" and more about connecting with the people around you in real, tangible ways.This placement asks you to embrace a mindset of curiosity and adaptability. If you've been too fixed in your ideas or overly rigid in your thinking, the North Node in the 3rd will push you to become more flexible and open-minded. You’ll be drawn toward exploring different perspectives and ways of thinking, often discovering that learning from others can be just as valuable as your own knowledge.3rd house also governs technology and communication tools, like social media, websites, and anything related to connecting ideas over distance. This could be an area where you learn to express yourself in new ways or use technology to enhance your ability to share ideas and connect with others. Another aspect of the North Node in the 3rd house is learning how to be a bridge between different groups of people or ideas. You might find yourself in situations where you need to help others understand each other,whether it's reconciling different viewpoints, simplifying complex concepts, or helping people communicate better.
🫧 Northnode in 4H/ cancer :
-The North Node in the 4th house is asking you to move away from the hustle and bustle of the outer world and turn your attention inward. You're being guided to prioritize your private life, emotional well-being, and family over external achievements or public recognition.One of the deeper lessons of the 4th house North Node is working through family karma or emotional baggage. You might feel called to break free from unhealthy family patterns or healing past wounds that have affected your sense of security. This may involve revisiting your childhood or understanding the way your upbringing shaped your current emotional needs.You might feel a deep need to create a place where you can feel truly at home,this could involve building a physical space that feels like your sanctuary or learning to emotionally anchor yourself. Your home life may be an essential source of fulfillment, and you may find that stability in your home environment helps you thrive.You may feel more comfortable in private settings or have a natural inclination to retreat to your home when you're feeling overwhelmed. This could lead you to find deep emotional fulfillment in cultivating a safe, nurturing home environment.
Tumblr media
🫧 Northnode in 5H/ leo:
-you might have spent previous lifetimes (or earlier parts of your life) focusing on abstract thinking, group goals, or even detaching emotionally. With the North Node in the 5th house, you're being asked to move away from these more distant, impersonal energies and embrace a more passionate, personal connection to life. You're meant to learn how to live from the heart and pursue what excites and inspires you.People with the North Node in the 5th house often feel the pressure to focus on work or obligations. However, you are being called to create balance by nurturing your creative side and allowing yourself time for fun, adventure, and recreation. This placement teaches that it’s important to play and relax, not just work and achieve. Learning to relax and enjoy the process, not just the outcome, is a key lesson.The 5th house is also linked to taking risks and embracing the unknown. With the North Node here, you might be called to step out of your comfort zone and take creative or personal risks. This can be scary, but it's a crucial part of your growth. You’re meant to learn how to be more open to trying new things, taking chances, and showing your authentic self without fear of failure or judgment.In many cases, those with this placement may feel restricted by expectations or the norms of society. The North Node in the 5th urges you to embrace what makes you truly unique, even if it goes against what others expect or think is “normal.” It’s about being true to who you are and expressing that with pride.
🫧 Northnode in 6 H/ Virgo:
-With the North Node in the 6th house, you're being guided to move away from lofty, abstract concepts and instead focus on practical, tangible tasks. Your soul’s growth comes from getting grounded in the here and now, focusing on small but meaningful contributions to your daily life.The 6th house is tied to health, so you may also find that helping others is healing for you. Whether it's through your work or everyday acts of kindness, serving others in a practical way may lead to personal healing. There may also be a connection between your physical health and your emotional state, meaning that when you focus on helping others and creating structure in your life, your own well-being improves.With the North Node in the 6th house, you may be called to pay attention to the details of life. This could mean getting better at organizing, planning, and fine-tuning the small aspects of your routine or job. However, it's important to find a balance and avoid falling into perfectionism.you’re meant to develop a humble, practical approach to life and find satisfaction in the simple, everyday tasks. This could mean embracing tasks that others might overlook but that are essential to creating a well-functioning environment.
🫧 Northnode in 7H/ Libra :
-North Node in the 7th house urges you to move away from excessive self-focus and towards focusing on others. Your soul’s evolution comes from learning to relate to the world through relationships and partnerships, not just from your own individual perspective.One of the deeper lessons of the North Node in the 7th house is learning how to be a true partner. This doesn’t just mean being in a relationship, but actively being a supportive, equal partner who respects the needs and desires of the other person. You may find yourself attracted to people who mirror your own relationship struggles or serve as teachers in how to develop stronger bonds. You might attract significant people into your life who will help you grow or challenge you to learn the lessons of cooperation, balance, and partnership. These individuals may play crucial roles in your development, and you’ll likely experience significant relationship dynamics throughout your life that guide your personal growth.A key lesson is learning to shift your focus from "me" to "we." This means moving away from an overly independent mindset and embracing a cooperative, team-oriented approach to life. The North Node in the 7th house emphasizes the importance of collaboration, negotiation, and creating a shared vision with others, whether in love, work, or friendship.
🫧 Northnode in 8H/ scorpio:
-The 8th house governs the occult, hidden knowledge, and mysteries. Having the North Node here suggests you may be drawn to explore subjects like psychology, metaphysics, astrology, or anything that delves into life’s mysteries. You are meant to develop a deeper understanding of the unseen forces at work in your life and in the world. Your growth comes from embracing and exploring the unknown rather than shying away from it.The North Node in the 8th house asks you to move beyond the material world and focus on inner transformation, emotional depth, and the intangible aspects of life. You may need to let go of a need for control over material things and trust in the process of transformation.you may need to face your fears head-on, particularly fears related to loss, death, vulnerability, or intimacy. This is a path of confronting your own psychological “shadow”,the parts of yourself you may not fully understand or accept. The more you embrace your shadow, the more you transform and grow.There is often a lesson related to power and control when the North Node is in the 8th house. You may need to learn how to navigate power dynamics in relationships, whether it’s about controlling your own power, being manipulated by others, or learning how to empower those around you. Understanding how power works on both a personal and collective level is a key part of your soul’s journey.
Tumblr media
🫧 Northnode in 9H/ Sagittarius
-you may have spent previous lifetimes or earlier parts of your life focusing on familiar, practical knowledge or staying within a small, familiar circle. The North Node in the 9th house asks you to move beyond these limits and seek broader, more expansive knowledge. It’s time to move away from focusing on just the immediate and local world and embrace the big picture.One of the key lessons of the 9th house is about finding freedom in your beliefs and worldview. You might be encouraged to break free from inherited beliefs, whether cultural, religious, or familial, and explore what resonates with you personally. This could lead you to adopt an entirely new belief system or philosophy that reflects your evolving sense of self.While the North Node in the 9th house calls you to seek knowledge, it also points to the importance of sharing what you’ve learned. As you grow and expand your understanding, you might feel called to teach others or guide them on their own journeys of discovery. This could involve teaching formally, writing, or simply sharing your wisdom through life experiences.Traveling may be a key aspect of your life, broadening your worldview and expanding your understanding of different cultures and people.
🫧 Northnode in 10H/ Capricorn
-with your South Node is in the 4th house, you may have spent previous lifetimes or earlier parts of this life focusing too much on your home, family, and personal comfort. While these things are important, the North Node in the 10th house encourages you to move toward the public realm, professional growth, and outward achievement. It’s time to shift from a focus on internal, family matters and develop a strong presence in the world.The North Node in the 10th house can bring a sense of destiny tied to your career. You may feel driven by a desire to achieve something significant and leave a mark on the world. There is often a sense of "rising to the top" in some capacity, but this is not about superficial fame. It’s about aligning with your true purpose and contributing meaningfully to society in a way that fulfills your highest potential.People with the North Node in the 10th house are often called to be more visible in the world. This could mean stepping into the spotlight, leading a team, or being recognized for your work or achievements. It's about learning how to be comfortable with recognition and building a professional reputation that reflects your true abilities and contributions. You’re meant to grow into someone others look up to for guidance and wisdom. Developing leadership skills and becoming more confident in your authority will be key to your growth.
🫧 Northnode in 11 H / Aquarius
-The North Node in the 11th house encourages you to step away from the more self-centered, individualistic aspects of the 5th house(South node in 5th) and toward working with others for a common cause. It’s about shifting from focusing solely on personal desires to contributing to larger collective goals.Your growth comes from building friendships that align with your values and ideals. You are meant to surround yourself with people who inspire you, challenge you, and push you toward your bigger goals. While it’s important to have fun and connect on a personal level, your soul's purpose thrives when you focus on relationships that have a deeper, more purposeful connection based on shared ideals or a common mission.The 11th house is linked to innovation, science, and technology. You may feel drawn to explore new technologies, trends, or ways of connecting with others, particularly through modern methods such as social media or virtual communities. Embracing new ways of connecting or working with others on a larger scale,especially through technology can be a significant part of your soul’s journey.You may feel drawn to participate in or lead social causes, organizations, or movements that work for the betterment of society. Whether through activism, charity, or working in a community-focused job, you’re meant to contribute to the collective good. Working toward a better future for all is an essential part of your purpose.
🫧 Northnode in 12H/ Pisces
- with your South Node is in the 6th house, you may have spent past lifetimes or earlier parts of your life focused on practicality, daily routines, and material success. The North Node in the 12th house encourages you to move away from these outward, day-to-day concerns and toward more internal, spiritual work. It’s about finding peace within yourself rather than constantly trying to improve the material aspects of life.The 12th house is about retreating from the noise of the world. You may need to spend time alone or in quiet environments to connect with your deeper self. This doesn’t mean being isolated or lonely, but rather allowing yourself to recharge and access the subconscious mind. Regular solitude or spiritual practices such as meditation or journaling can help you unlock the wisdom of the 12th house.The 12th house is often associated with the unconscious mind and, in some ways, past lives. People with the North Node in the 12th house might feel a sense of nostalgia or a deep connection to things that are hidden or not immediately understandable. You may also experience vivid dreams or flashes of intuition that guide you toward healing or deeper understanding.You might be called to contribute to the world in a way that is not self-serving or for recognition. This could involve working in a charitable capacity, taking on a spiritual role, or simply helping people who are suffering. Your purpose is about offering compassion and kindness without the expectation of reward or recognition.
Tumblr media
Hope you enjoyed ✨
- PIKO ❤️
430 notes · View notes
pearlprincess02 · 2 months ago
Text
mask or soul? (sun - rising aspects)
sun conjunct rising
sun conjunct rising people carry an unmistakable presence, radiating confidence and warmth that captivates others. this alignment blends ego with appearance, often making them highly aware of how they’re perceived. on the positive side, they project authenticity and charisma; however, their strong self-focus can sometimes make them appear vain or self-centered. when balanced, they embody a striking combination of boldness and sincerity.
the vibes you bring: main character energy, golden aura, effortless charm, center of attention, luminous persona, natural leader, radiant self-assurance, charismatic glare, unapologetically themselves, head turner, confident stare, all eyes on me, unfaltering self-belief, sunlit glow, vanity mirror moments, the charmer, idol singer, charming confidence, walking on sunshine
sun opposite rising
sun opposite rising individuals have an intriguing duality in how they present themselves versus who they truly are. their appearance often contrasts with their inner self, creating a push-pull dynamic between their public image and private ego. this aspect can make them seem mysterious or even misunderstood, as they may struggle to align how they’re perceived with how they see themselves. positively, this creates depth and allure, but it can also make them seem distant or hard to read.
the vibes you bring: mysterious allure, inner conflict, two-faced beauty, hidden depths, public vs. private self, masked vulnerability, unreachable aura, enigmatic charisma, elusive persona, layers of self, contradictory charm, captivating complexity, shadow & light, introspective gaze, unseen essence, the masked one, contradictory character, beauty is never tarnished, stranger with a familiar face
sun trine rising
sun trine rising individuals exude a natural harmony between their inner self and outer appearance, often radiating confidence and warmth without needing to try. they’re authentic, drawing others in with ease, and their positive self-image makes them approachable yet self-assured. this alignment brings a gentle charisma, though they can sometimes take their easy appeal for granted, becoming overly focused on staying comfortable rather than challenging themselves. overall, they leave a lasting impression of effortless charm and inner balance.
the vibes you bring: effortless confidence, natural charisma, authentic glow, inner harmony, effortless appeal, charming ease, radiant grace, magnetic presence, golden balance, self-assured aura, subtle power, unspoken influence, timeless elegance, genuine allure, smooth operator, the charmer, graceful & gracious, effortlessly attractive, nice; but not naive
sun square rising
sun square rising individuals often experience a noticeable tension between how they present themselves and who they truly are. this aspect can lead to an edgy, intriguing aura but also causes inner conflict as they struggle to express their true identity. their appearance might feel slightly “off” or at odds with their personality, which can make them appear misunderstood or inconsistent. while this misalignment adds intensity and uniqueness to their charm, it can also make them seem defensive or self-conscious at times.
the vibes you bring: edgy charm, inner conflict, unpolished realness, raw appeal, contrasting persona, rebel without a cause, unconventional allure, frustrated expression, intense glance, uneasy magnetism, complex charisma, charming flaws, rough around the edges, compelling contrast, unfiltered self, beautifully flawed, complicated character, reluctant charmer, tough but vulnerable
sun sextile rising
sun sextile rising individuals have an appealing balance between their inner confidence and outer expression, creating a friendly yet dignified presence. they’re comfortable in their own skin, projecting a self-assured charm that feels genuine without overwhelming others. this aspect gives them a knack for knowing how to present themselves, but they may sometimes rely too much on their easy charm, risking complacency. overall, they exude an approachable warmth that draws people in with a quiet magnetism.
the vibes you bring: approachable charisma, warm presence, quiet confidence, balanced aura, friendly allure, effortless charm, subtle power, natural elegance, unassuming grace, genuine magnetism, easygoing appeal, poised yet friendly, self-assured glow, unforced beauty, inviting warmth, the everyman charmer, effortlessly attractive, grace under pressure, nice; but not naive
all observations are done by me !!! @pearlprincess02
main masterlist
518 notes · View notes
colebabey888 · 3 months ago
Text
The IT Girl Wardrobe Essentials | IT GIRL DIARIES
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Creating the perfect IT Girl wardrobe is all about mixing timeless classics with a touch of trendy pieces for an effortlessly stylish look. The key is to build a closet filled with versatile staples while adding fun, fashion-forward items that show off your personality.
Here’s how to put together a wardrobe starting on your It Girl Journey :
The Magic of Basics 🎀
Every It Girl knows the importance of having great basics. Start with simple, well-fitting pieces, something similar to a plain white/black tee, a pair of skinny jeans or mom jeans ( skinny jeans are always trendy if you know how to style them ) .These items will be easy to mix and match, giving you endless outfit options. They can be dressed up or down and that's exactly the type of clothing items you want to have.
The Perfect Pair of Jeans 🎀
When it comes to my denims, I don't mess around! Invest in a good few pairs of jeans that fit you perfectly. Quality over quantity! Levi, Pacsun, REVICE Denim, these are are all examples on companies that sell high quality denims. Classic skinny or straight-leg jeans/mom jeans are super versatile and go with almost everything. It's never a bad idea to keep a few light denims around either but go with what fits your skin tone best. To keep things trendy, try experimenting with ripped jeans or wide-leg styles, but make sure to always have a classic pair for everyday wear. If you're going for a more classy/clean look, I would skip out in the spontaneous ripped jeans.
The Little Black Dress (LBD) 🎀
A little black dress is a closet essential for every It Girl. Whether you’re heading to a party or going out to dinner, the LBD is always a chic choice. Pick one that’s simple and elegant, so you can easily dress it up or down with accessories. There's nothing more to it, a simple black dress will do it for any occasion, any time of day!
Cute and Comfortable Shoes 🎀
Comfortable yet stylish shoes are a must. Make sure you have classic white sneakers, cute ankle boots for your rainy days , and a pair of strappy heels. On a hot sunny day, I love a good pair of black thong sandals, they pull every look together and give off the perfect touch of a 2000's vibe. Skinny jeans or a sundress, paired with good accessories and a handbag, black thongs for the win always.
Balancing Trends with Classics 🎀
The secret to It Girl style is blending your wardrobe basics with trendy pieces. Each season, pick a few fun items like a patterned scarf, oversized sunglasses, or a bold handbag to keep your outfits fresh and exciting.
The Power of Accessories 🎀
Accessories can really make your outfit pop! Invest in timeless pieces like gold hoop earrings, a simple watch. Then, mix in trendy items like layered necklaces, fun belts, or colorful purses to add personality to your look.
By building your wardrobe with these essentials and mixing in a few trendy pieces, you’ll achieve the perfect IT Girl style—chic, fun, and always effortlessly stylish. My style is definitely changing and upgrading every year so there will most likely be a part 2 of this next year. These are just a few tips and tricks I've picked up on throughout my It Girl journey so far, but we're all learning so if you have any tips yourself feel free to dump them in the comments, mwah!
xoxo, colebabey8.88
952 notes · View notes
vivmaek · 1 year ago
Text
LOVE & SEX: ASTRO OBSERVATIONS (18+)
Tumblr media
Happy Scorpio season everyone!
Sagittarius Risings are the best at flirting. I may be biased considering that I’m a Gemini Rising, but I stand by my opinion. They know how to evade small talk and make people melt through their warmth and charm. Sagittarius Risings can be cocky, but this serves them well when trying to gain romantic attention. Confidence is sexy. They keep things light hearted and fun. Their commitment issues add a layer of excitement to their relationships, they’re often pursued by multiple people at once. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
A Cancer Venus or Mars could spend the entire day in bed with their partner. They blend cuddles, foreplay, and sex into long sessions that seemingly have no end.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Those who have their Sun in the third house can carry out a long-distance relationship successfully. A strong sense of imagination keeps the relationship alive within their head. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
People who have Mars in the sixth house need to find a partner who is spontaneous. Their sex life might start to feel like a routine and they’ll become bored. Sex is important to these individuals, it has to remain exciting if these types are going to settle down. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Someone with Mars opposite to their Ascendant might find that they give more than they receive within their sexual relationships. They might participate in sexual activities just to appease their partner. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
A Scorpio Mars might have secret sex fantasies that make them feel ashamed. They also probe into the sex life of their partners through pointed questions. This does not come from a place of curiosity, if they start doing this it's because they feel possessive and jealous. They want to be the best their partner has ever had. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Individuals with Mars in the first house have the best stamina, hands down. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
An Aquarius Venus is always getting caught up within the most complicated romantic endeavors. They’re the first to claim that they’re easy-going and just want to fall in love with their best friend. When in reality, they’re avoidant and uncomfortable with conventional romantic affection. They’re delusional for thinking this isn’t going to cause issues. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
People with a Pisces Venus will toy around with multiple people at once and then they’ll have the audacity to become confused when one of their partners finds out and is upset. Their love and affection for others is innocent. They’re just following their heart, and if it leads them into the arms of multiple people, so be it. Unlike other water venus placements, a Pisces Venus is not possessive over their lovers, they’re just here for the vibe. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Capricorn Ascendants are incredibly classy. Dating them feels like a high-end experience. They know how to treat their partners right. They show up on time and are always appropriately dressed for the occasion. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
People who have a Libra Sun placed within the tenth house find it difficult to balance their love life and career. It seems that these two areas of life are always in conflict with one another. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Individuals who have their Sun placed within the first house are honest and straightforward, they don’t play around with people and they do everything they can to avoid hurt feelings. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Taurus Moons like to eat before sex. If they didn’t get a chance to do this, they’ll get up and make themselves a sandwich immediately afterwards. They’ll make one for their partner too ofc ;) They are very attentive when it comes to aftercare, they’ll help their partner get dressed and will make sure all their emotional needs are being met. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
People who have Venus conjuncting their Ascendant end up in relationships with ease, but these relationships also end just as quickly as they started.  
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The sexual endeavors of someone with Mars in the tenth house are publicly known. Their nudes may get leaked, and their past partners like to brag about shared sexual experiences. 
2K notes · View notes