#even though it is now weeks after I got tagged

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1900 - with you i'm free

chapter summary: Logan meets you again in a small town in Pennsylvania. Only this time, you are married to another man, but your marriage is far from perfect.

word count: 11.4k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is a bit darker than the other chapters, past and future, so this'll probably be a 'one off'. please read the tags! the domestic violence isn't described too heavily, but there are still some descriptions and scenes involving it. you've been warned!

warnings/tags: angst, mentions of brushing hair, outdated mindsets on women, domestic violence, bruises, cheating, blood, character death

series masterlist - chapter 2 → chapter 4

Logan found himself in a small town in Pennsylvania 20 years later. Victor was doing who knows what, he wasn’t sure if he even cared, so he was alone, once again.

Coal mining was the primary job in this town, so he found himself doing just that. After work, the guys would go to a nearby bar and get drunk, go back home, and repeat it all over again.

This was his second week here, and the guys finally learned that he only came along to do one thing- drink.

You walked into the dimly lit bar, the smell of tobacco and cheap liquor hanging heavy in the air. The men, mostly miners from the town, were crowded around tables, drinking and laughing loudly after a long day of work. The sound of clinking glasses and rough voices filled the room, but your eyes were drawn to the man sitting at the bar, quiet and distant.

He didn’t look like the others—he wasn’t laughing, wasn’t part of the group. He just sat there, nursing a glass of whiskey, his dark eyes focused on the amber liquid as if it held answers to questions he wasn’t ready to ask. Something about him felt familiar, though you couldn’t place why.

You hadn’t intended to come inside. George was already drunk somewhere in the back, and you knew what that would mean when he got home. But something pulled you toward the bar, toward him. You made your way over, hesitating for just a moment before slipping onto the stool beside him.

“You new in town?” you asked, your voice soft but cutting through the noise around you.

The man didn’t look at you right away, but his hand tightened slightly around the glass. His jaw clenched, as if the sound of your voice had struck something deep inside him. Slowly, he turned his head, and when his eyes met yours, the world seemed to tilt for a moment.

It was like a punch to the gut, a shock that ran through both of you, though you couldn’t understand why. You had never met him before, but his eyes... those eyes. Dark, haunted, and yet filled with something familiar, something you couldn’t explain.

Logan stared at you, his mind racing. It couldn’t be. But it was. You were here, sitting right next to him, alive. Different, yet the same. His chest tightened, the memories flooding back—your face, your smile, your laugh. The way you had slipped away from him, twice now.

He hadn’t expected to see you again. Not after the last time. But here you were, as real as the glass in his hand.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended. “Just passing through.”

You tilted your head slightly, curious about the stranger beside you. “Passing through? Not many people come here unless they’re looking to stay a while.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to you again, lingering this time. It was you, all right. Same voice, same damn spark. He could feel his heart pounding, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should just get up and walk away. He didn’t know if he could handle this—losing you again.

“I’m not lookin’ to stay,” he said, taking a long sip of his drink, hoping it would calm the storm inside him.

You smiled faintly, noticing how closed-off he seemed. “Seems like you’re fitting in already, though,” you joked, nodding toward the men in the back. “That’s my husband back there, George. One of the miners.”

Logan’s jaw tightened at the word ‘husband,’ though he didn’t know why it hit him so hard. Of course, you’d have a life. It was always like this. But that didn’t make it any easier.

“Is that right?” he replied, not really asking. He glanced toward the group of men, catching sight of George, loud and drunk, waving his glass around like he owned the place. A man like that didn’t deserve you. But Logan stayed silent.

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking down at your hands. “He’s… something.”

There was a heaviness in your voice, something that told Logan more than your words ever could. He recognized that tone—the one you used when you were trying to hide the truth, trying to make things seem better than they were.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Logan just stared at his drink, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now. You were married. You had a life. He didn’t belong here. But he couldn’t just walk away. Not again.

“Y/N.” The sound of your name from his lips was barely a whisper, but it felt like it echoed through the bar. Your head snapped up, eyes wide.

“How… how do you know my name?” you asked, frowning in confusion. He hadn’t asked, and you hadn’t introduced yourself.

Logan cursed inwardly, realizing his slip. He hadn’t meant to say it, but your name had come so naturally, like it always did. “I, uh… heard someone call you that when I came in,” he lied, quickly looking away. “Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

You blinked, but before you could question him further, George’s booming voice interrupted.

“Y/N!” he shouted, stumbling toward you. “What’re you doin’ at the bar? Get over here!”

You flinched slightly, your body tensing at the sound of his voice. Logan noticed immediately, his eyes darkening as he glanced between you and the drunk man. He didn’t like the way George looked at you, the way he called for you like he owned you.

“I should go,” you muttered, standing up quickly, the warmth between you and Logan fading as you stepped away. “It was nice meeting you…?”

“Logan,” he said, his voice low. “Name’s Logan.”

You smiled faintly again, nodding. “Logan. Well, take care.”

He watched you walk away, his chest tight with a mix of emotions he couldn’t put into words. This wasn’t fair. Not to him, not to you. But life had never been fair, had it?

As George draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into the group with a roughness that made Logan’s blood boil, he clenched his fists under the bar. He wanted to stand up, walk over there, and tear that man’s arm off. But he stayed where he was, the ring in his pocket feeling heavier than ever. The ring he never got to give you.

You were gone again, and Logan was left with the bitter taste of whiskey and the familiar ache of loss.

---

George never really allowed you to do much, he wanted you to be the ‘perfect wife’ and the ‘perfect mother’, but he always said that last part to you with such hatred.

Some nights, while you silently cried yourself to sleep, you wondered if you were broken, and that maybe you deserved it. Not ever getting pregnant, having an abusive husband- not that it was rare, most of the guys’ wives went through the same things too.

One day, you were out doing errands, getting some things to make George his favorite dinner in hopes you wouldn’t end up with another bruise on your wrist like yesterday, when you saw him. Logan, from a few nights ago.

He was smoking a cigar against a brick building; he should be at work with the rest of the men.

You paused, your breath catching for a moment as you saw him. Logan. He looked out of place, leaning against the wall like he didn’t belong in this time or this town. His eyes, sharp even from a distance, locked onto yours the second you stepped out of the store. It was like he knew you’d be there, as if he had been waiting.

You hesitated, then made your way toward him, the worn handle of the basket digging into your palm as you gripped it tightly.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” you asked softly, your voice carrying just enough over the sound of the bustling street.

Logan took a long drag from the cigar, his eyes narrowing slightly, and shrugged. “Took a break. Figured I needed some air.”

You shifted awkwardly, glancing around before lowering your voice. “If George finds out you’re not working…”

He scoffed, the sound rough, almost amused. “George ain’t my boss.”

His words hung in the air, and you knew he was right. George might run things at home, but out here, Logan didn’t answer to anyone. You, on the other hand… your life was different.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to your wrist, where the bruise from yesterday’s outburst was still visible, even though you’d tried to hide it with long sleeves. His expression darkened instantly, the casual air gone in an instant.

“He do that?” His voice was low, almost a growl.

You swallowed, tugging the sleeve down further. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “I just—George gets frustrated sometimes.”

Logan pushed off the wall, stepping closer, the smell of smoke and leather surrounding you. He was close now, too close, and you felt your heart quicken—not in fear, but in something else entirely.

“Frustrated?” Logan repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “That what you call it?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t, really. What were you supposed to say? That it was normal? That the other wives had it worse? The words died in your throat, and instead, you turned your head, focusing on the basket in your hand. “I should get going.”

But Logan didn’t move, didn’t let you slip away that easily. “You don’t have to put up with that, Y/N,” he muttered, his voice softer now. His hand brushed your arm, barely a touch, but you felt it. Felt it everywhere.

Your breath hitched, and you looked up at him, finding those dark, intense eyes watching you closely. “I… I should get home,” you said again, but the words lacked conviction this time.

Logan didn’t argue, but the look on his face told you that he wasn’t letting this go. “I’ll walk with you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

You didn’t protest as he fell into step beside you. The two of you walked in silence for a while, your steps in sync, even though neither of you said a word. It was like that night in the bar—the unspoken connection, the weight of something you couldn’t quite name hanging between you. But this time, there was no crowd, no drunken laughter. Just you and him, and the quiet tension that seemed to grow with every step.

When you reached the edge of your street, you stopped. “You don’t have to walk me the whole way,” you murmured, glancing toward your house, where George’s silhouette was already moving around inside.

Logan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at you, his gaze lingering on the bruise again before his eyes met yours. “You ever need someone to talk to,” he said quietly, “you know where to find me.”

Your heart clenched at the offer, at the way he said it like he meant it. You nodded, unsure of what else to do, and turned to leave.

But as you stepped away, his hand brushed yours again, just for a second. It was fleeting, but it sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder that there was something here—something neither of you fully understood but couldn’t deny.

You walked inside, feeling his presence behind you even after the door closed, knowing that things had just shifted, that something had begun. And it scared you. Not because of George, not because of what it might mean if you were caught—but because of how much you wanted it. How much you wanted him.

---

Over the next few days, Logan stayed close. You saw him more often—sometimes at the store, sometimes on the street—but always watching, always aware. He didn’t push, didn’t say much. But his presence was a constant, a quiet offer of protection that you hadn’t asked for but found yourself relying on.

It was late one evening when it finally happened. George had been out drinking again, and when he came home, it was worse than usual. You flinched as his hand caught your wrist, yanking you toward him as he slurred something about dinner not being ready on time.

You would’ve left the house if you could, but you couldn’t. Not when George was glaring at you like that, his drunken eyes wild with the sort of rage that had become all too familiar. You knew exactly what was going to happen tonight. It wasn’t new—this quiet dread that wrapped itself around your throat, choking off your breath. Running had never worked before, and by now, you had learned there was no use in trying.

George's grip on your wrist tightened painfully as he muttered something under his breath. The way he yanked you close made your heart race, not out of fear, but from the exhaustion of enduring it. He wasn’t done with his tirade—his words slurred together, complaining about dinner, the house, everything. It didn’t matter. Nothing you did ever seemed to be enough.

As his fist balled around the fabric of your dress, you stared blankly at the floor, your mind drifting elsewhere, anywhere but here. To the street outside, to the market, to Logan. The quiet man who’d appeared in your life without explanation. You didn’t know why, but when you thought of him, you felt something different—something dangerous but soothing all the same. A flicker of rebellion, of hope, that you hadn’t felt in so long.

George shoved you toward the kitchen table, grumbling about the cold food, about you being lazy, about anything he could think of. You stumbled, catching yourself on the edge of the table, but didn’t say a word. You never did, not when it got like this.

But Logan… he had noticed. He had noticed the bruises, the way you flinched when someone raised their voice, the way you avoided eye contact. He wasn’t like the other men in town. He wasn’t one to turn a blind eye. You remembered his intense gaze lingering on your wrist, the bruise that you couldn’t quite hide. You remembered the way he had spoken to you softly, almost like he cared.

That thought gave you strength now, as George barked another order, telling you to clean up the dishes. Your body moved mechanically, but your mind stayed somewhere else. You could almost feel Logan’s hand brushing against yours again, the briefest touch when he’d walked you home the other night. It had been so subtle, but it had sent a jolt through you—a reminder that there were still things you could feel, still things you could want.

The night dragged on, just as it always did, but when George finally passed out in his chair, snoring heavily, you slipped outside. The cool night air hit your skin, and for a moment, you just stood there, breathing it in. You weren’t going far. Just a few minutes of peace. Just enough to remind yourself that you were still alive.

You walked slowly down the empty street, your eyes scanning the shadows. You didn’t mean to, but your feet led you toward the alley where Logan had been smoking that day. It was a habit now, searching for him, even when you knew you shouldn’t.

And then, there he was. Leaning against the same wall, his broad figure half-hidden by the dim light of the streetlamp. His cigar glowed faintly in the dark, and as soon as he saw you, he straightened, eyes narrowing with concern.

“Y/N,” Logan said softly, stepping toward you. His voice was rough but gentle in the stillness of the night. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Your throat felt tight, and your chest ached with all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t. Instead, you just walked closer, until you were standing right in front of him, your head tipped back slightly to meet his gaze.

Logan’s eyes flickered over your face, taking in every detail—the bruise that had started to fade but was still visible on your wrist, the exhaustion that weighed down your every movement. He didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t need to. He knew.

Without a word, Logan reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck in a way that was more comforting than anything you’d felt in years. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into him. Just for a moment.

“Y/N, you don’t have to stay there,” he murmured, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Not with him.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the truth of his words cutting deeper than anything else. You didn’t want to stay, you didn’t. But leaving wasn’t as easy as it sounded. George was… dangerous. You didn’t know what he would do if you tried to leave him. And besides, where would you even go? You had nothing. No money, no family. Just an empty house that felt more like a prison with every passing day.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your own admission.

Logan’s grip tightened slightly, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. He wanted to help, wanted to tear you away from that life, but he was fighting something inside himself too.

“You always got me,” Logan said quietly, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “Always.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning. You didn’t know what to say. The part of you that was practical screamed that you couldn’t rely on him, that you shouldn’t get attached. But the other part, the part that had been buried deep beneath years of heartache, wanted to believe him. Wanted to fall into him, to take whatever comfort he could offer.

Before you could stop yourself, you reached up, your hand trembling slightly as you rested it on his chest. You felt his heart beating under your palm, steady and strong. Logan’s breath hitched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. He never did.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet street. “I don’t know what to do.”

He let out a slow breath, his forehead resting against yours now, his warm breath mingling with yours. His free hand came up, his thumb brushing your cheek softly, tracing the path of an unshed tear.

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” he said gently, his lips so close to yours that it took everything in you not to close the distance. “But whatever you decide… I’m not lettin’ you go through this alone. Not again.”

Your heart ached at his words—his promise. The unspoken connection between you felt stronger than ever, and before you knew it, you were closing that distance, your lips brushing against his in a hesitant, tender kiss.

Logan froze for half a second, but then his arms were around you, pulling you closer as if he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than he could remember. His lips were rough, but his kiss was gentle, full of restraint. You could feel the years of longing behind it, the pain of lifetimes lived and lost, but also the desire—the need that neither of you could ignore any longer.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and trembling, Logan’s eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice ragged, his forehead still resting against yours. “This ain’t right. You’re… you’re married.”

“I know,” you said, your voice barely more than a breath. “But I… I don’t care anymore.”

Logan’s grip on you tightened for a moment, like he was trying to fight it, but then he cursed softly under his breath and kissed you again, this time with more desperation, more need. His hands tangled in your hair, his lips claiming yours in a way that made it clear this wasn’t something either of you could stop now.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t want to.

---

The next few days blurred together, a dangerous mix of stolen moments and whispered promises. Logan was always there, watching over you, his touch lingering on your skin long after you parted. You knew it was wrong, knew that it would only lead to more heartache, but you couldn’t stop. He had become your anchor, your escape from a life you couldn’t bear anymore.

It wasn’t long before you were meeting him after dark, slipping out of the house when George was too drunk to notice. The kisses became longer, the touches more urgent.

Soon, it wasn’t just nights you were seeing him. It was after George left for work, during Logan’s lunch breaks, or anytime he could sneak away from the mine. You’d meet in the same alley, or sometimes he’d find you waiting in a small park just outside town. The secrecy of it all—the sneaking around, the stolen moments—it was reckless, but neither of you could stop.

Logan wasn’t the kind of man who talked much, but the way he looked at you, the way he held you—like you were the only thing keeping him grounded—it said enough. His hands were always gentle, so different from George’s, even though you could feel the strength behind them. That raw, unyielding strength that was so uniquely his.

One afternoon, Logan met you in the small clearing just past the main street. It was a rare moment when George was working late, giving you a little more time than usual. You leaned against the large oak tree, your back pressed into the rough bark, and waited. It wasn’t long before Logan’s figure appeared in the distance, his broad shoulders tense, eyes scanning the area out of habit.

As soon as he spotted you, his shoulders seemed to relax, and he made his way over, his footsteps heavy but quiet in the dirt. When he got close enough, you smiled softly, your fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress, a nervous habit you’d picked up over the last few weeks.

“Thought I’d lost you for a minute there,” you teased, keeping your voice light, though there was a real fear under the surface. Every time you saw him, there was a tiny part of you that worried it might be the last.

Logan gave a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Not that easy to lose me, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, trying to read what was going on in his head. He seemed… tense, more so than usual. You could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice softening as you stepped closer, close enough to touch him, but not quite daring to yet.

Logan’s gaze flickered down to you, and for a moment, you saw something in his eyes—something old, something heavy. But he shook his head, as if brushing it off, and reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, though you could tell he wasn’t. He was never fine.

You reached out, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart under your palm. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Logan.”

He stared at you for a long moment, the silence stretching between you, before he finally spoke. “It’s just… this,” he said, his voice low, almost pained. “I don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I’m already hurt,” you whispered, and for the first time, you felt the full weight of those words. The bruises, the fear, the nights spent lying awake, wondering if George would snap—it had become your normal, and you hated it.

Logan’s expression didn’t change much, but his jaw clenched, a flicker of something dark flashing behind his eyes. He stood still, his hands loose at his sides, and for a second you thought maybe you’d gone too far—that maybe admitting this would scare him away, make him walk off into the night and leave you standing there alone.

But he didn’t. He never did.

Logan exhaled slowly through his nose, the sound quiet but loaded with restrained anger, like a simmering fire just barely held in check. His hand—rough and warm—reached out to settle on your arm, fingers curling gently around your elbow. It was a simple touch, but it grounded you in a way that nothing else did.

“I’ll handle it,” Logan said, voice low, rough. His words were more than a statement—they were a promise, weighted with meaning you couldn’t quite untangle.

Your heart skipped at the way he said it, quiet but firm, like the solution was already decided, and there was no point in questioning it.

“You can’t,” you whispered, not because you didn’t believe him, but because you knew how dangerous George could be. And if Logan went to him—if George found out about the two of you…

Logan’s thumb brushed once along your forearm, slow and deliberate. “I’ve handled worse,” he muttered, gaze never leaving yours. There was a sharpness in his eyes now, something fierce. You didn’t know what he’d been through in his life—just that it was far more than you could imagine.

A part of you wanted to tell him not to get involved, but the other part—the part of you that had been breaking under George’s hand for years—wanted to let Logan do exactly what he was offering.

You bit your lip. “If he finds out…” You trailed off, but Logan understood. Of course he did.

He stepped in closer, so close that the rough wool of his shirt brushed against your dress. His hand shifted from your arm to the back of your neck, his fingers resting there firmly, possessively, but with the same strange tenderness he always showed you. “I won’t let him hurt you again,” Logan murmured, voice steady.

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe him so badly. And when you looked into his eyes—dark and steady and filled with something raw and unyielding—you thought maybe you could.

Your hand rested flat against his chest, fingers curling slightly into the worn fabric of his shirt. His heartbeat strong beneath your palm, steady and unrelenting.

“He won’t stop, Logan.” Your voice cracked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “He’ll just—he’ll come after me, after us.”

Logan’s lips pressed into a thin line, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Let him try,” he said, the words edged with a quiet menace that sent a chill down your spine.

It should have scared you, the way he said it—like violence was something inevitable, something he didn’t shy away from. But instead, it made you feel… safe. Safer than you’d felt in years.

The night air around you was cool, but standing this close to Logan, you felt none of it. His hand slipped from your neck down to the small of your back, his touch warm and steady through the fabric of your dress.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, but even as you said it, you didn’t move away.

Logan’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “I ain’t gonna pretend this is right,” he said, voice rough but quiet. “But I ain’t gonna pretend I don’t want you, either.”

His words hit you hard, sinking deep into your chest. You hadn’t realized how starved you were—how badly you needed someone to see you, to want you. And Logan… he saw everything. The bruises, the fear, the exhaustion. And still, he looked at you like you were worth something.

You swallowed thickly. “What happens if he finds out?”

Logan’s expression darkened. “He won’t.”

The finality in his tone left no room for doubt, and for a moment, all the fear that had been building inside you loosened, just enough to let you breathe.

Without thinking, you reached up, fingertips brushing along the edge of his jaw, feeling the rough scrape of stubble beneath your touch. Logan’s eyes closed briefly, like the small touch was something he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time. When his eyes opened again, they were darker, filled with a need that mirrored your own.

He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

His lips found yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, like a man starved for something he couldn’t name. His hand cupped the back of your head, holding you to him as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

You melted into him, the fear and exhaustion slipping away, at least for now. His kiss was everything—an escape, a promise, a lifeline.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and trembling, Logan rested his forehead against yours. His hand lingered on your waist, as if letting go wasn’t an option.

“Just say the word, Y/N,” Logan whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Say the word, and we’ll leave. Tonight.”

Your heart ached at the offer—at the thought of running away with him, leaving everything behind. But it wasn’t that simple, and you both knew it.

“I can’t,” you whispered, hating yourself for the truth of it.

Logan’s grip on you tightened briefly, as if trying to hold onto something he couldn’t keep. But when he spoke again, his voice was steady.

“Then I’ll stay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “Until you can.”

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. For the first time in years, you felt like you weren’t alone.

And that—just that—was enough to keep you going. For now.

---

One of the local churches was having a retreat set up for the women in town. Clara had been talking your ear off about it at Sunday church, spouting how excited she was to get out of the house.

You listened half-heartedly, but really you were thinking about what a perfect excuse it was to flip this into a lie for George.

You told Logan you couldn’t run away with him, but that didn’t include spending these few days with him, maybe off somewhere in a nearby town.

Most of the women in town were very religious, and at times you felt like an outsider. You didn’t believe like they did, but you kept up a perfect front to make them believe you felt the same way.

“Maybe we’ll have another sewing circle this time. Whaddya think?” Clara asked, a wide grin splitting her face as she held her hat against the October breeze.

You gave a noncommittal hum, tugging the sleeves of your dress down to cover the faint bruises on your wrists. “Maybe,” you murmured, though your thoughts were far from sewing circles and prayer sessions.

The retreat was perfect. It would get you out of George’s reach—at least for a couple of days—and give you the time you so desperately craved. More than anything, it meant time with Logan.

Clara didn’t seem to notice your distraction. “It’s always good to get away, you know? Some of these girls say the Holy Spirit really speaks to ‘em up there.” She gave you a knowing look. “Sometimes, you just gotta leave it all behind for a bit.”

You forced a smile. "Maybe that's what I need."

Clara squeezed your arm, oblivious to how you tensed. “See? That’s the spirit! Now you just gotta convince your husband.”

You swallowed thickly. George wouldn’t care about a church retreat if it kept up appearances. He didn’t pay much mind to you unless you were standing in his way—or if dinner wasn’t on time. A couple of days without you underfoot? He’d probably welcome the peace.

Later that night, after George had his fill of supper and slumped into his chair with a bottle, you tested the waters.

“You remember Clara?” you asked, keeping your tone light. “She mentioned a church retreat this weekend. Thought I’d go.”

George barely glanced up. “What for?”

“Some of the other women are going too.” You folded your hands together tightly, hiding your nervous fidgeting. “It’s just a few days. They’ll be praying and sewing... nothing much.”

George grunted, shifting in his chair. “You ain’t skippin' out on Sunday dinner.”

You bit your lip, nodding quickly. “No. I’ll be back before then.”

He waved you off with a lazy flick of his hand. “Fine. Just be sure you ain’t runnin' off to waste money.”

Relief washed over you so fast your knees felt weak. You ducked your head, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you,” before slipping into the next room. It had been easier than you expected—maybe too easy. But you weren’t about to second-guess it.

---

The next day, you told Logan.

You found him where you always did—leaning against the brick wall near the alley, a cigar pinched between his teeth. He straightened the second he saw you, his sharp gaze sweeping over you like it always did, searching for signs of hurt.

“I told George I’m going to the church retreat,” you said quietly, stepping close enough that the warmth of him reached you. “It’s this weekend. I’ll have a couple of days...” You let the words hang between you, heart pounding as you waited for him to understand what you were really saying.

Logan’s jaw ticked, his expression hard to read. “You sure?” His voice was low, the sound of it like gravel underfoot.

You gave a small nod. “It’s the only way I can get away.”

He exhaled through his nose, looking past you for a second before his eyes settled back on yours. “Where’s the retreat supposed to be?”

���About an hour north,” you said. “But... I’m not going there.”

Logan’s lips twitched, something almost like a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That right?”

“Yeah.” Your voice wavered slightly, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I wanna be with you, Logan. Just for a couple of days. Somewhere... away from here.”

The smirk faded, replaced by something heavier, something that settled deep in his eyes. “You know what you're askin’, darlin’?”

You nodded. “I know.”

He didn’t move for a long moment, just stood there watching you with those steady, knowing eyes. Then, with a slow exhale, he reached for you—his hand slipping under your chin, tilting your face up toward his. His thumb brushed along your jaw, and the touch made your breath catch.

“Where do you wanna go?” Logan asked, his voice rough but gentle.

“Anywhere.” The word slipped out before you could stop it, and you hated how desperate it sounded. “Just... not here.”

Logan gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Alright,” he muttered, the barest flicker of emotion crossing his face. “Meet me at the train station Friday night. I’ll take care of the rest.”

---

Friday came quicker than you expected.

The afternoon dragged, tension curling in your stomach as you packed a small bag. You kept everything simple—a couple of plain dresses, your brush, and the few coins you’d stashed away in a tin under the floorboards. You told yourself it wasn’t permanent. You’d be back in a few days, and everything would go back to how it was.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

When the sun began to set, you told George you were leaving. He didn’t even look up from his whiskey. “Just don’t come back actin' all high and holy,” he muttered.

You gave a quick nod, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.

---

The train station was quiet when you arrived, your breath fogging in the cold night air. You spotted Logan almost immediately, standing near the platform with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. He wore the same tired expression he always did, but when his eyes found yours, something softened in his gaze.

“You made it,” he murmured, stepping closer. His hand found yours, rough fingers wrapping around yours like they belonged there.

“Yeah,” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

Logan gave a small nod toward the waiting train. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here.”

You boarded without hesitation, the door clicking shut behind you as the train rumbled to life beneath your feet. Logan led you to a quiet corner of the car, his hand never leaving yours.

As the train pulled away from the station, you glanced out the window. The town grew smaller, the lights fading into the distance until there was nothing but the dark, open night stretching out ahead of you.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself breathe.

Logan’s arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side. His warmth bled into you, steady and unyielding, and for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

“You alright?” Logan asked quietly, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

You nodded, leaning into him. “Yeah. I am.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly ease as you settled against him. His arm was solid and steady around you, a quiet strength that made you feel secure. The train rocked beneath you, the rhythmic clattering on the tracks filling the silence. You closed your eyes, letting the sound and the warmth of Logan's presence wash over you.

For the first time in what felt like years, you could relax—if only for a little while.

"You got enough for a few days?" Logan asked, his voice gruff but soft, as if he was trying not to push too much too soon.

You nodded, pulling your small bag closer to you. "Yeah. Just the basics."

Logan gave a small grunt of approval. "We'll stop by a place I know, out of the way. You’ll be safe there."

"Safe..." The word hung in the air between you, heavier than you meant it to be. It felt like a luxury you hadn't been allowed for a long time, and the thought of it made your chest tighten.

Logan’s thumb stroked absently along your arm, a small gesture that grounded you. He didn’t press you for more, didn’t ask questions you weren’t ready to answer. That was the thing about Logan—he didn’t pry, didn’t demand anything from you. He just was. It was one of the reasons you felt drawn to him, why you kept finding yourself in his orbit.

But there was still so much you didn’t know about him. He’d never mentioned a family, never talked about where he’d come from or how he ended up here. There was a deep well of mystery around Logan, and sometimes you could feel it, the weight of something unspoken between the two of you. But you didn’t push him for answers either.

You shifted slightly, resting your head against his shoulder, the scent of cigar smoke and pine surrounding you. “Where are we going?”

"There's a place, up in the hills," Logan said quietly. "A cabin. No one's been there in a while. We'll be alone."

Alone. Just the two of you. The thought sent a ripple of excitement and fear through you, your heart skipping a beat. The idea of leaving everything behind—even if just for a few days—felt like a risk. But wasn’t that what you wanted? A break from George, from the town, from the suffocating weight of a life you never really chose.

“You sure about this?” Logan asked, his voice low, almost hesitant. “About… us?”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your decision settle in your chest. It wasn’t just about getting away anymore. It was about choosing him, even if it was only for a little while. A choice that could never be undone.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, lifting your head to look at him. His eyes met yours, dark and searching, like he was looking for any hint of doubt.

Logan’s expression softened, just a fraction, and he gave a slow nod. “Alright.”

The train continued its steady rhythm, carrying you further away from the life you knew and into something unknown. You couldn’t think about what would come after—about George, about the retreat, about the women who would notice your absence. All you could think about was Logan, and the way his hand held yours, like he didn’t want to let go.

---

The cabin was quiet, nestled deep in the woods where no one could find you. Logan hadn’t been lying when he said it was out of the way. You hadn’t passed another soul on the journey here, and the solitude felt like a blanket wrapping around you, warm and comforting.

Logan pushed the door open, the wood creaking slightly under his weight. The inside was simple—rough wooden furniture, a stone fireplace, and a bed in the corner, covered in a faded quilt. It wasn’t much, but it felt safe, isolated from the rest of the world.

“You can get some rest,” Logan said, setting your bag down near the bed. “Fireplace works, and there’s wood out back if it gets cold.”

You nodded, glancing around the room before your eyes settled on him. “Thank you.”

Logan’s gaze flickered, something unreadable passing across his face before he nodded. “Don’t gotta thank me.”

There was a silence between you, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. You wanted to ask him more—about why he was helping you, about what he really wanted from all this—but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm.

“Logan…” you started, unsure of where you were going with it.

He turned to face you fully, his eyes locked on yours. “Yeah?”

You hesitated, then closed the distance between you, your hands reaching up to rest on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart under your palms, the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

“I just… I needed to be with you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “You got me,” he murmured, his voice rough but sincere. “For as long as you need.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his. It wasn’t soft or tentative like you thought it might be—it was hungry, desperate, like you’d been holding back for too long.

Logan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and the world outside the cabin seemed to disappear. There was no George, no town, no expectations. Just you and Logan, and the fire that burned between you.

---

Later, as the fire crackled in the hearth and the two of you lay tangled in each other’s arms, you stared up at the ceiling, your mind racing with everything that had happened.

Logan’s hand trailed idly along your arm, his fingers brushing over the faint bruises you’d tried so hard to hide. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the tension in him, the quiet anger simmering beneath the surface.

“I’ll kill him,” Logan muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “If he ever touches you again.”

You tensed, your breath catching in your throat. “Logan—”

“I mean it,” he growled, his grip on you tightening slightly. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

You turned to face him, your hand resting on his chest. “It’s not that simple…”

Logan’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something raw and painful in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite understand. But then he shook his head, exhaling slowly. “I just don’t wanna lose you. Not again.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, but before you could ask what he meant, Logan leaned down and kissed you again, silencing your questions.

The kiss was rough, full of unspoken things—promises, regrets, desires that neither of you could fully articulate. His lips moved against yours like they were trying to drown out the past, to focus only on the here and now. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers digging into his skin, wanting to hold on to this moment for as long as possible.

For now, you didn’t want to think about George. You didn’t want to think about the bruises you were hiding, the lies you had to keep telling to survive. You wanted to focus on Logan—the way his body pressed against yours, the warmth of his breath, the way he made you feel alive.

When you finally broke apart, your breathing heavy, Logan stayed close, his forehead resting against yours. His hand brushed your cheek, and for a moment, the roughness of him softened, like he was letting his guard down.

"You should rest," he murmured, his voice low, but there was a strain in it, like he was trying to hold something back.

You shook your head slightly. "I don’t want to rest. I want to stay here with you."

Logan’s eyes searched yours, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. He lifted his hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your skin for just a second longer than necessary.

“You know this can’t last,” he said quietly, the weight of the truth settling between you both.

You nodded, the ache in your chest growing. “I know.”

You had always known it couldn’t last. This was just a moment stolen from the real world—a fantasy that couldn’t survive the harshness of the life waiting for you back home. But that didn’t stop you from wanting it. It didn’t stop you from wanting him.

Logan’s hand found yours again, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt almost protective. He hadn’t let go since you’d arrived at the cabin, as if he feared you might slip away if he did.

“I wish it could be different,” you whispered, staring down at your intertwined hands.

Logan was silent for a long time before he spoke. “Me too.”

The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with warmth, but there was still a chill in the air, an unspoken tension lingering between the two of you. You could feel it in the way Logan’s thumb stroked absentmindedly across your knuckles, like he was trying to ground himself—trying to ground you.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice softer now. “Helping me, I mean.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, his jaw clenching slightly. When he looked back at you, his eyes were hard to read. “Because you deserve better than him.”

It wasn’t a full answer, but it was the closest he’d come to telling you why. You weren’t sure if he was holding something back or if he just didn’t know how to say it. Logan wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and you’d never pushed him for more than he was willing to give.

You nodded, accepting his answer for now. “Thank you.”

Logan’s eyes softened at your words, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t gotta thank me, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself lean into him. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to just be. No pretending, no worrying about what came next. Just this—just him.

---

The morning light filtered through the small windows of the cabin, casting a soft glow on the wooden floor. You woke to the sound of birds chirping outside and the comforting warmth of Logan’s body beside you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to stay like this, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this peaceful.

Logan stirred beneath you, his arm tightening around your waist as he woke. His eyes flickered open, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable.

“Mornin’,” he murmured, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

You smiled, the corners of your lips tugging up. “Morning.”

Logan gave a quiet grunt in response, shifting slightly beneath you. His hand was still draped over your waist, his fingers rough but warm against your skin. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression unreadable in the soft morning light, like he was trying to figure out if this moment was real.

“You sleep alright?” he asked, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

You nodded, brushing your fingers absently along his collarbone. “Better than I have in a long time.”

Logan gave a small hum, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that—your body curled into his, the outside world forgotten.

It felt fragile, like if you moved too quickly or said the wrong thing, it might all shatter.

“Gotta admit,” you murmured, “it feels strange waking up like this.”

“Yeah?” Logan's lips twitched, just barely. “Strange good, or strange bad?”

A soft laugh slipped out of you. “Good,” you whispered. “Strange in a good way.”

He held your gaze, something flickering in his eyes—something like relief. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the same quiet intensity you’d come to expect from him. Logan wasn’t a man who wasted words, and that suited you just fine.

The clock on the mantle ticked steadily, marking the minutes passing in this stolen moment. You let out a soft breath and rested your chin on his chest, tracing invisible patterns on his skin with your fingertip.

“What time do you think it is?” you asked, though you didn’t really care about the answer.

Logan turned his head slightly toward the window, where the early morning sun was just beginning to peek through the trees. “Still early.”

“Good.” You nestled closer, unwilling to let the morning slip away just yet.

He didn’t say anything for a while, just ran his hand up and down your back in slow, lazy strokes. The motion was soothing—so different from anything you’d known in your marriage. With George, everything felt like an obligation, a duty. With Logan... it felt like choice.

Logan’s breath stirred your hair as he spoke again, his voice low. “You thinkin' about goin' back?”

The question hit you like a stone dropped into still water, the ripples spreading out in every direction.

You hesitated, your fingers stilling against his chest. “I don’t know.”

Logan’s jaw flexed, and you could feel the tension creep back into him. “If you don’t want to... you don’t gotta.”

“It’s not that simple.”

Logan gave a quiet grunt, his hand still resting against your back, though his grip tightened slightly. “It could be.”

You shook your head. “He’s my husband, Logan.”

Logan exhaled hard through his nose, and you felt the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “That don’t mean you owe him anything.”

The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable, and it tugged at something deep inside you—something that made you want to stay, to never go back to the life you’d left behind.

But it wasn’t that easy. It never was.

“I have to,” you whispered. “At least for now.”

Logan was silent for a long time, his hand resting heavily on your back. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, almost reluctant. “You know where to find me if things get bad.”

It wasn’t a promise, not exactly—but it felt like one.

“I know,” you murmured, brushing a soft kiss against his shoulder.

Logan’s hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your skin. “You got somethin’ to say, darlin’, just say it.”

You closed your eyes, trying to find the words. “I just... I don’t want this to end.”

The admission hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. Logan’s grip on you tightened, his expression darkening.

“It won’t,” he said quietly, and there was a fierceness in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you let yourself believe—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.

You pressed your forehead against his, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Promise?”

Logan’s breath was warm against your skin. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, Y/N. Not this time.”

Something about the way he said it—like there was more weight behind those words than you could fully understand—made your chest ache. But you didn’t push for more.

Instead, you kissed him.

It was slow this time, tender in a way that made your heart twist painfully in your chest. Logan kissed you back just as softly, his hands cradling you like you were something precious.

And for a little while longer, you let yourself believe in the possibility of happiness.

---

The days you spent at the cabin away from everything with Logan were the closest you think you’d ever get to heaven.

But of course, it had to come to an end. Logan walked you back to your house, keeping to the shadows where the trees thickened along the road. Luckily, George wasn’t home yet, but you knew he’d be back soon. On Sundays, the men from the mines always went to the bar after church, spending what little money they had on whiskey before heading home for dinner.

Logan stopped a few steps short of the porch, his expression unreadable. His heavy boots crunched against the dirt, and he tilted his head, listening for signs of anyone nearby. It was quiet—just the soft rustling of the wind through the trees and the distant caw of a crow.

“Looks clear,” he muttered, glancing toward the road. Then his eyes were back on you—sharp, like he was committing every detail of this moment to memory.

You stood there, one hand gripping the hem of your plain cotton dress, the other clutching the shawl draped over your shoulders. It was getting colder, October creeping in around the edges.

Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. He shifted his weight, arms folding across his chest. “You sure you’re good?” His voice was low, rough as gravel.

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered, but the words felt thin, like paper stretched too tight.

His eyes flicked over your face, lingering on the bruise near your jaw that hadn’t quite faded. You saw it—the way his knuckles twitched like he wanted to tear something apart, or maybe someone. But Logan knew better than to push this conversation again. You’d had it more times than either of you cared to count.

“I mean it, Y/N,” he said, quieter this time, but no less serious. “If things get—”

“I know.” You cut him off gently, giving a small nod. “I know where to find you.”

Logan’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t argue. The porch steps creaked under your weight as you climbed them slowly, heart heavy in your chest. You reached for the door, but before your fingers touched the worn wood, you felt his hand wrap gently around your wrist.

You turned, meeting his gaze.

“You ain’t alone in this,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist. It was the kind of touch that made your knees weak—steady, solid, full of unspoken promises.

“I know,” you whispered, holding his gaze a second longer than you should have. Then you pulled your hand free, feeling the cold settle in the space where his warmth had been.

The door clicked quietly behind you, sealing you inside.

---

It was well into the afternoon by the time George came home. You’d set the table with what little you had—a pot of boiled potatoes, bread that was more crust than loaf, and a pan of cold pork you’d managed to stretch out since Friday.

George slammed the door behind him, the stench of sweat and beer clinging to his clothes. He tossed his flat cap onto the chair and grunted as he sat down heavily at the table.

“Where’s the roast?” he asked, eyeing the measly spread with disapproval.

“There wasn’t any.” You kept your voice even, steady, though your hands trembled slightly as you placed the food in front of him.

George gave you a hard look, his lip curling in disgust. “Useless,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

You clenched your jaw, swallowing the sharp retort that burned on your tongue. Fighting him would only make it worse.

He ate in silence, the scrape of his knife against the plate the only sound in the small kitchen. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed his chair back with a loud scrape.

“Goin’ to bed,” he grumbled, already halfway out of the room before you could respond.

The knot in your stomach tightened, but you stayed still, standing in the middle of the kitchen long after the sound of his boots thudding down the hallway faded.

It was always like this. A dull, suffocating ache—day after day, night after night. And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you had the strength to keep pretending.

---

It was well past midnight when you slipped out the back door. The cold bit at your skin, and you pulled your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you made your way down the dirt path leading into the woods. The moon hung low in the sky, casting silver light across the clearing where Logan was waiting, his broad frame leaning against a tree trunk.

He looked up as you approached, his keen eyes catching the moonlight.

“Figured you’d come.” There was no smugness in his tone—just quiet understanding, like he’d known all along that you wouldn’t be able to stay away.

You stopped a few feet from him, your breath clouding in the crisp night air. “I couldn’t do it,” you admitted, your voice small.

Logan pushed off the tree and closed the distance between you in two strides. His hands came to rest on your shoulders, firm and grounding. “You ain’t gotta explain.”

You looked up at him, heart aching with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t. Instead, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his chest.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. You felt the steady rise and fall of his breath, the quiet strength in the way he held you—like he’d fight the whole world just to keep you safe.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Logan’s grip tightened. “I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The night stretched on around you, silent and still, as Logan’s hands roamed up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes.

“You stayin’ tonight?” he asked quietly, his breath warm against your hair.

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Just tonight.”

Logan didn’t argue. He never did.

He took your hand, lacing his rough fingers through yours, and led you deeper into the woods—away from the house, away from the life you were supposed to live.

And for one stolen night, you let yourself believe it was enough.

---

When you got home later that night, around 3 in the morning, everything looked normal. The lights in the house were all off, and it was quiet.

You hung your shawl on the hook by the door when you heard the clink of a bottle. Your heart sank. George was awake.

The small kitchen was dim, the only light coming from the dying embers of the fire. George sat slouched at the table, a nearly empty whiskey bottle in his hand. His eyes were dark, glazed over with drunken fury. You could tell by the set of his jaw, by the way his knuckles gripped the bottle too tight, that this wasn’t going to end well.

“Where’ve you been?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it. His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood, his steps heavy as he moved toward you.

“I went to clear my head,” you said softly, keeping your voice calm, steady, though your heart pounded in your chest. “The air helps me sleep.”

George narrowed his eyes. “That so? 'Cause Johnny’s wife told me somethin' different. Said she didn’t see you at the church retreat.”

You froze. You had been at the retreat—briefly—but it was a cover for your meeting with Logan, and Johnny’s wife must’ve been one of the few people you didn’t see. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words stuck in your throat.

“I was there,” you managed, though you knew it wouldn’t matter.

George took another step toward you, his voice rising. “Don’t lie to me!” His breath stank of alcohol as he spat the words at you, the anger radiating off him like heat. “What were you really doin’, Y/N? Who were you with?”

Your stomach twisted in fear as his hand shot out, grabbing your arm hard enough to make you wince. “George, please—” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know you weren’t there. Where the hell were you?” He shook you, his grip tightening painfully around your arm.

You winced, biting back a cry. “I told you, I was there.”

But George wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes flicked to the door, then back to you, and a dangerous look settled across his face. “You been sneakin’ around on me, haven’t you?” His voice was low, deadly now. He released your arm with a shove, sending you stumbling back a step. “You think I’m stupid?”

“George, I’m not sneaking around,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm even though your pulse was racing. “I just needed some air. I—”

His hand moved faster than you expected, backhanding you hard across the face. Pain exploded through your cheek, and you stumbled, clutching the side of your face as tears sprang to your eyes.

“You think I don’t know?” George hissed, his face twisted with fury. “You’ve been leavin’ me here, goin’ off, God knows where. You ain’t foolin’ me, Y/N.”

You took a shaky breath, tasting blood where your teeth had cut your lip. “George, please—”

But he was already moving, crossing the small kitchen in two heavy steps. You saw the glint of metal before he pulled the shotgun from the corner near the door. Panic seized you.

“George, no—” Your voice broke as you held up your hands, trying to back away, but there was nowhere to go. The small kitchen felt like a cage, the walls closing in around you.

George leveled the shotgun at you, his hands shaking slightly but his eyes wild with rage. “You think you can just leave? You think you can just run off whenever you please?”

You felt like you were drowning, your heart pounding so hard in your chest it hurt. “I wasn’t leaving,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I wasn’t—George, please, put the gun down.”

“Shut up!” he snarled, taking a step toward you. “You’re lyin’! You’ve always been lyin’, and I’m done with it.”

You were shaking, trying to think of something, anything that would get through to him. “I’m your wife,” you said quietly, desperately. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you. I—”

But the words didn’t matter. Nothing you said would stop this. You could see it in his eyes—the cold, determined look of a man who had already made up his mind.

For a moment, everything felt frozen. The ticking of the old clock on the wall, the crackling of the dying fire—it all seemed too loud, too slow. George’s finger twitched on the trigger.

And then, in an instant, the world shattered.

The shotgun blast was deafening, the sound tearing through the small kitchen like thunder. You didn’t even feel the impact at first—just a sharp, searing pain that spread through your chest, knocking the air from your lungs.

You stumbled, your legs giving out beneath you as you hit the floor hard, the cold tiles pressing against your cheek. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, blood pooling around you.

The room swam, your vision dimming as you tried to focus, but all you could see was the dark shape of George standing over you, the shotgun still smoking in his hands.

---

Logan heard the shot before he smelled the blood.

His body reacted instinctively, his enhanced senses kicking into overdrive. He’d been lying awake, his thoughts consumed by you, when the sound echoed through the still night. There was no mistaking it.

His heart lurched in his chest, and without thinking, Logan bolted to his feet, running toward your house, his mind racing with fear. He knew. He knew it was you.

The smell of gunpowder hung thick in the air as he neared the house. Logan’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the door slightly ajar, the soft light spilling out into the dark.

He pushed the door open, his claws already unsheathed.

The sight that greeted him froze him in place.

You were lying on the floor, a pool of blood spreading out around you, your breaths coming in shallow, painful gasps. And standing over you, his face twisted with something like confusion, was George.

Logan’s vision blurred with red.

He didn’t think—he just moved. In a blur, he was on George, his claws slashing through the air. There was a sickening crunch as the bone tore through flesh and bone, and then George was on the ground, lifeless.

Logan didn’t care. His only focus was you.

He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands hovering over your body, desperate to stop the bleeding, but there was too much. The wound was too deep. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough, desperate. “Stay with me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, but it was hard to focus. Everything felt distant, like you were floating just out of reach of the world. You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Blood bubbled at your lips.

Logan’s face hovered above yours, his expression shattered. “Please, darlin’, hold on. Just hold on.”

You coughed, the pain in your chest unbearable, and for a brief moment, your eyes met his. The world was fading fast now, slipping away like sand through your fingers.

“Logan...” you managed, your voice barely a whisper.

His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears you didn’t even realize had fallen. “I’m here,” he choked out. “I’m here.”

You smiled weakly, even as the darkness closed in around you. “I… I love you.”

Logan’s breath hitched, his grip on you tightening like he could somehow hold you to this world. But you knew, just as he did, that this was the end.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Your chest ached, not just from the pain but from the weight of those words—the weight of knowing this was goodbye.

And then, everything went still.

You felt Logan’s hand in yours, the warmth of his touch lingering even as the world around you faded into darkness.

You weren’t afraid. Not anymore.

You were free.

Logan knelt there, holding you long after the last breath left your body, his heart breaking all over again.

in this chapter logan is 68 years old and reader is around 21-24 years old.

just a reminder that going forward there is going to be an age gap between the two since logan obviously keeps getting older.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

prompt: hugh is your sugar daddy and he just bought you a new dress to wear at a movie premiere after party, but he cant resist wanting to take it off of you (also ur writings are fantastic 🩷)

Don’t I Look So Pretty? | Sugar Daddy!Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

Warnings: Sugar Daddy, Age Gap (Reader is in their late 20’s – Hugh is 56) Secretive Relationship, Heavy Make Out, Hugh is Touchy Feely, Mentions of Smut, Mentions of Divorce, Choking, Biting, Thigh Riding, Slight Pain Kink,

Rating: M – No Minors

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for being my first ever High request! I was on the fence about doing RPF but you know what? I cannot pass up Sugar Daddy Hugh like that! Also I 100% spaced on the fact that you said after party and just wrote the premiere. I hope that was okay!

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How did you get so lucky? That was the age-old question in your mind. How did you go from working a 9-5 office job directly after getting your Masters, to now being a sugar baby? It still surprised you, knowing this was your life. A small studio apartment turned into a lavish penthouse. Your car that barely turned on anymore got upgraded to a brand-new Aston Martin; You’ve never driven it though – why would you if you have a private driver now? How you went from living and working independently to being a princess in less than a few months boggled your mind, but you wouldn’t trade it in for the world. You were happy, for the first time in a long time.

Meeting Hugh Jackman was luck of the draw. You never realized how close your old job was to his home in the city, nor to his favorite coffee shop downtown. That was your solace after long days and dreaded mornings; Extra strong coffee and a bagel was your go-to. Seeing him each time meant that your day was going to be okay, his tender smile and short but sweet conversations got you through your week. It first started off as your favorites being already paid for, not having to waste your own dime anymore. Then it was your parking lot fees being comped, gas being prepaid, food constantly being delivered – all the way up to your rent being paid in full for four months. That is when things took a turn, Hugh didn’t just chat you up to keep your company in the mornings, this time around he was setting terms. Falling into the roll of his sugar baby came so naturally, it was hard to know anything else. You felt bliss, complete happiness knowing you didn’t have to go back to your boring office job. You didn’t have to appease people who truly wanted to use you as a stepping stool for their own success, you could be free from the bullshit of it all. You never looked back, and you never would. Everything you needed was in front of you, and you wanted to keep it that way.

A year of being Hugh’s sugar baby was everything you wanted, and everything he needed. Though this was the first time he had ever asked you to come to a movie premiere with him. It was hush-hush, especially after the divorce he went through. Hugh didn’t take you on as his sugar baby for sexual reasons, but more for companionship. You both were lonely, seeking a connection and why not do it with someone who made you two feel comfortable. As time went on though, those fleeting touches and longing stares burned right through you. Ryan always said it was a match made; He could see through the charade. So here you sit in your closet, at your vanity getting your makeup done. Staring into the mirror while your personal glam team dolls you up, you reminisced about how things have been for the last year, how much happier you are, how deeply you fell in love with Hugh. Not that you’d ever admit it to him, what you had now was good. You didn’t want to ruin that.

“Alright gorgeous, you are set.” Your makeup artist smiled as your hair stylist finished up with the hairspray. Looking up into the mirror, you were taken aback by the image in front of you. You knew you were pretty, beautiful even but right now? You look ethereal. There was a glow on your face not even the makeup could cover up, the way your eyes shined like you were blissfully happy with life. You looked like a painting, nothing seemed real but a perfect portrait of a girl in love. Tears welled in the corner of your eyes as you took yourself in, gasping lowly as your makeup artist set his chin on your shoulder, smiling with you. “Those heart eyes are all you, babe. He’s going to drop to his knees when he sees you.” You couldn’t help but feel the heat creeping up your neck to fan over your cheeks, your body shivering at his words. “I hope, I really hope.” You smiled small into the mirror, heart hammering as you thought of Hugh.

Before you could even begin to silently ponder the reaction he would have to you, a line of giggles fluttered in from the open closet door, humming ensuing as the blonde bun came back in sight. “Special delivery for a special girl,” your hair stylist laughed as she held the box in her hands. You cocked a brow as you spun around in your chair, flicking a silent what in her direction before looking at her hands. An ivory box with a gentle purple ribbon tied in a bow sat in her palms, causing your heart to swell. Biting your glossed lip, you took the box slowly from her hands, seeing a little envelope with your name written out tucked beneath. As you placed the box on your lap, you reached out to run your fingers across the ink, feeling how your fingers shook with anticipation. Gently you grasped the corner of the envelope, opening the back with a quick flick of your finger before pulling the card out.

I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I saw this. I knew I needed to see you in it. Can’t wait to see my pretty girl tonight. Having you by my side is going to feel so right.

Yours, Hugh xx

If you had any doubts before, you knew now that no matter what, Hugh was going to be obsessed with you. It never crossed your mind that he was going to buy you a dress for tonight, much less get it wrapped and ready to go. Especially on such short notice, it was the little actions he did that made you love him even more. Holding the sweet note to your chest, you swooned softly as you let your free hand work the box open, seeing the pearlescent tissue paper covering your dress. Your hair stylist didn’t waste a moment to help you out, lifting the paper back so you could see what Hugh had picked. A deep sapphire blue dress, with little beads twisting to mimic vines across the bodice of the dress, all the way down well passed the hips. The sweetheart neckline perfectly complimented the sheer long sleeves that came down to your wrist.

As your makeup artist and hair stylist grabbed the dress out for you, holding it up, you noticed the deep slit up to the middle of your thigh, causing your breathing to become labored. It was stunning, truly a beauty you have never seen before. Hugh has bought you so many lavish pieces of jewelry, purses, dresses, but nothing ever so you. This didn’t feel like something perfectly curated to fit what you wanted, but something that you would’ve made yourself. Something you would’ve dreamed of wearing. The small notion that he saw this and thought of you made you want to cry – it was too sweet for you to begin. Quickly your makeup artist came over to fan your face, making sure no tears fell over his hard work. That simple action had you laughing away the emotion welling up within you, making it hard to overthink.

A couple face fanning and strategically helping you into the dress so your hair nor makeup go ruined, finally you were in your dress. It felt right against you, like truly it belonged to you, was curated for you, was meant to be for you only. Now as you stand in front of the full length mirror staring at yourself, you felt like you. The way the color complimented not just your figure, but your skin color was the best. You felt like a goddess, you felt like an angel on Earth. You felt powerful, enough to take down an entire empire. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you took a deep breath as you smiled, ready to show Hugh what he had really bought for you. Your glamour team rubbed your arm and back as you began to walk out of the closet, giving you that extra boost you may need.

Thankfully living with Hugh made it so much easier to surprise him, not having to walk down a grand staircase or even stand outside of the door. Simply you could walk out of the closet, into your bedroom, and right into the living room where he was standing. His back was facing you as his front faced the fireplace, a hand pressed against the mantle as his other nursed a glass of water. In this moment you didn’t have to say anything or move an inch. Hugh could feel that you were behind him, he could smell your perfume and instantly felt his body run hot. He longed for you, each and every day. Though you two weren’t intimate, it didn’t stop the deep connection you developed with each other. Having that emotional connection was perfect, even if a physical one didn’t happen. Being a sugar daddy was new to him too; Ryan told him not to fall in love but, with you he couldn’t help it.

Slowly Hugh turned around from his position, his eyes unfocused behind his glasses. From his fuzzy vision he could make out the color of your dress, and knew he wasn’t going to be able to handle this. As his vision came back into focus, Hugh sucked a breath in, eyes dilating at what he was seeing. Starting at your face, he let his eyes wander over your features, taking in your beauty from a few steps away. He was wondering how the hell he got so lucky, how he had the fortune of existing at the same time as you, you were everything to him. Slowly his eyes careened down to your neck, ghosting over your chest and down your front. Each flick of his gaze caused your body to grow warm, the slick between your thighs growing more and more. Once his eyes fell upon the generous slit in your dress, once emerald eyes turned obsidian. His facial features never moved, they stayed in their frozen state as his eyes flicked back to you, his mouth agape.

“Woah,” Hugh breathed out, his heart pounding in his chest. You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling, biting your lip as you slowly made your way to him. The strawberry vanilla lotion you had used wafted through his nostrils, mixed with your perfume made him feral. It was then you noticed how his tie matched the color of your dress, causing you to feel warm and fuzzy. The little details like that made it special for you, made this relationship feel not monetary – but real. “That bad, huh?” You snorted out, running your fingers down the collar of his blazer as your eyes remained on his. You could see there was something more brewing beneath his gaze, but he wasn’t showing – he was shutting it out for his own sake. Hugh laid his hands on your lips as he looked deep into your eyes, smiling like a man obsessed. “You look perfect. I knew this dress was made for you.”

Hearing him say that made your smile turn wide, leaning forth to give him a small kiss on the cheek as you let your breath waft over his ear. “Thank you for this, Hugh. That was too kind. You’re too sweet.” They were the best set of words you could string together; Under his stare this time around, you couldn’t think coherently. The energy between the two of you had shifted – once full of pink and purple lights now swam in dark reds and emerald. It was thick, not suffocating but held you both in. You felt your body pushing against his without even thinking about it, Hugh could feel it too. Bringing his hand up to caress your jaw, his eyes fell to your lips, enraptured by the color chosen to compliment the dress. “Anything for my baby. You ready?” He smiled, his eyes never leaving your mouth. Nodding against his hand, you moved your head slightly to the side as you kissed his palm, holding your other hand against his chest. “As I’ll ever be.”

That was all Hugh needed to hear to grab your hand, bringing the back up to his lips as he let his kiss linger. Taking your hand into his, you both made your way out to the town car with his driver, making your way to the premiere.

-----

Everything that you could’ve possibly thought a red carpet for a premiere could be, you got to experience. It was a blur of lights and yelling but it was magical. Seeing how the cast latched onto Hugh and his excellence made your heart grow fond. Seeing how many of his friends came out to support him warmed your insides. Tonight was about him and his amazing performance, to be tagging along with him to experience this was a dream come true. Though you didn’t want the full red-carpet experience; Seeing the plethora of lights and cameras shuttering made you feel lightheaded. Instead, you made your way over his Hugh’s assistant, falling right behind him in step as he made his way around to interviews with Hugh. This was your choice at the end of the day, Hugh was okay with what made you feel safe, but a part of him wishes he could’ve had you on the carpet with him, showing off his girl.

Everything flew by in the snap of your fingers, interviews and pictures were completely done with now as you two made it into the packed theater. The complimentary concessions stand was buzzing to life with all the celebrities wanting a snack, the chatter gradually got quieter as people started to make their way to their seats. You could feel your nerves on edge as you looked around. Hugh leaned closer to you as he laced his arm your waist, holding you to him as he ran his thumb over the dress. Turning your face up to look at him, you could see that his brows were pulled together. He looked upset, worried even as his eyes panned around the room. It was something you have never see Hugh do before, and you wondered what was the matter. “You okay, Hugh?” You asked as you held him close, placing your lips near his shoulder

Your words seemed to have broken him out of his internal thoughts, causing him to come back into reality. “Hm? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He chimed, leaning down to lay a kiss on your temple. It felt staged, artificial. Was he nervous about all the people? About bringing you along? Was he not wanting to see someone? Too many questions placated your mind as you tried to read Hugh’s expression. You could see a small glimmer of pain in his eyes as he searched the room, his breathing become harsh. Rubbing your hand along his lower back, you placed your hip against his, leaning as close as you possibly could so only he could hear you. “You sure? You look distracted.” You knew he was, and you were silently hoping he would tell you why, but alas he looked down at you with a blank stare, trying to mask how he was feeling. “I’m okay, my darling.”

Nodding up at Hugh, you gave him a small smile as you looked back at the crowd. It was then that you heard a small gasp of success from Hugh’s lips, not giving you time to ask what was going on. Hugh was a man on a mission, and wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted. His hand wrapped to yours tightly, tugging you through the theater. As you pushed your way through the line Hugh had made for you, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his eagerness. Hugh wasn’t upset but he was excited for something, of which you could not tell. But the way he looked back at you made your skin alight in adoration, his eyes sparkling with something more than like. You felt your body run hot as he stared at you, pulling you closer. Rounding the corner near the theater entrances, Hugh noted the light blue door at the end of the hall, humming out as he started to sprint with you.

Gathering the skirt of your dress in your free hand, you made good pace with Hugh as he led you to the door. Pushing it open with ease, you were met with the brightly lit interior of the bathroom, causing you to squint slightly. The bright light threw you off your balance as Hugh fully pulled you into the bathroom, maneuvering your body while you tried to adjust to the light. As your eyes finally focused, you felt your back being pressed up against the bathroom door, locking it with a harsh click. Hugh had both of your wrists clasped into his hands, holding them strictly above your head. Your eyes went wide at the action, staring into his blackened ones, your breathing labored in comparison to his easy one. “Hugh! What-“ You yelped out, but were cut short by Hugh shaking his head. His salt and peppered beard ran over your cheek as he tucked his head down, his breath sliding across your neck. “Sshh, don’t talk. Don’t talk.”

You obeyed his command as you whimpered, letting your eyes fall closed naturally at the feeling of him pressed against you. Hugh pulled his head back from your neck as he stared down at you, bringing his left hand down to grab at your chin, pointing your face up towards him. You could see the feral nature wanting to slip out and play with you, wanting to add physical contact to your relationship. You could see how Hugh was fighting it back with each breath, the small line teetering the deeper you gazed. You didn’t want just an emotional connection anymore, you wanted to make good on your job of sugar baby, giving Hugh exactly what he needs. He could see that in your eyes as well, the conflict of whether it would be a good idea. Tonight was a night of firsts, why not add that to the menu? A slight whimper left Hugh’s mouth as you pressed your breasts to him, leaning forth to nip at his bottom lip. “Earlier you asked me if I was okay. I lied, I’m not okay.” He sounded as if he was in pain, causing a wave of arousal to slip through your lower lips.

You felt your mind going hazy at the lack of space you two had, adding to the tension you wanted to slice with a knife. “W-What’s up?” It came out more as a moan than a sincere question, and you felt Hugh’s reserve slipping away. A chuckle of arousal slipped from his parted lips as he slid his left hand from your chin, to your neck. The action itself made your body sing, your eyes rolling back as he pushed. He was holding you hard enough so you couldn’t move, but not hard enough to where you couldn’t breathe. Instead, his thumb and first finger found your pulse point, pushing down to restrict the blood flow to your head, making your sight go fuzzy. “Fuck it,” Hugh let out with a growl. There was not enough time to respond before he pressed his mouth to yours, invading your senses.

Time stopped in that moment, slowing down enough to fully take in this moment. The first kiss of your relationship with Hugh, something you two have been wanting so bad over the last year. The floodgates had broken in this moment, letting you two embark on this voyage of discovery. His lips slotting against yours like he was made for you, how your mouth formed perfectly to his. The simple flicks of your tongue against his ignited the fire from within, causing you to burn to ash and be born anew. You struggled against Hugh’s grasp, wanting nothing more than to hold him close to you, feel every ridge of his body under your palms, to feel his burning passion. As if he had read your mind, Hugh had let your hands go, deepening the kiss. A sultry moan slipped past your parted lips as he licked into your mouth, letting him swallow it down.

Your hands slid down as he released his grasp, finding purchase on his hips. Letting your left-hand maneuver upwards, you tangled your fingers into Hugh hair at the base of his neck, giving the roots a soft tug. A growl escapes his lips and pours into your mouth; His right hand working its way under the slit of your dress to hold your plush thigh. The tantalizing touch of his calloused fingers against your baren skin made you want to scream in pleasure, to let this man ravish you all across the world. Hugh pulled back, panting like an animal as he gripped at your neck tighter, his touch shaking. “I can’t stop thinking about stripping you out of this dress.” Hugh sounded like he was in pain, a primal sound you have never heard him make. He sounded like a man possessed, the only cure was to make you scream his name.

A moan slipped out of his mouth as his hand slipped between your legs, feeling how sopping your cunt was at making out with him. Feeling his fingers slide against your panties made your knees buckle. Hugh stuck his knee between your thighs to hold you up, burying his face into your neck. “God, I fucking need you baby. I can’t do this any longer.” Hearing his desperate he was for you made you feel powerful, your hand gripping his hair tighter as he ravishes your neck. Hugh’s lips latched on roughly to the skin of your throat, suckling against the sweet scent of you. His knee on the other hand, slid back and forth against you, letting your erect clit nudge the soft fabric. Everything was too much, every feeling was too much, yet you didn’t want any of it to stop.

Grinding yourself down against his thigh, Hugh took that as an opportunity to bite into your neck, not hard enough to break skin but enough to mark what’s his. That was enough to send you over the edge, digging your nails into the back of his neck as you tossed your head back against the door. Against your core thigh you could feel Hugh growing harder, silently begging to make him cum. The mere size of him shocked you, knowing he would give you a good stretch if you tried. Just the thought was enough to put you on edge, his words aiding in your arousal. “If I’m not inside of you in the next two seconds, I might pass out.” You couldn’t take it anymore, you were sweating like a bitch in heat. You needed Hugh, and needed him now. You needed to feel him inside of you, to mark you, show everyone that you are his. “Would you-“ You began, not able to finish as Hugh pulls his face back from your neck.

“Yes.” How quickly he responded made you laugh, which in turn caused Hugh to roughly press his knee against your clothed clit, sending a wave of arousal through your body. Never tearing your eyes away from his, you licked your glossed lips sensually, putting on your best innocent eyes you could muster as you spoke. “You didn’t let me-“ Hugh had heard enough to know what you meant, because he needed the exact same from you. Hugh brought his face up inches from yours, pecking your lips slightly as he groaned out, your hand gripping his erect cock through his slacks. “Would you like to go home and let me worship you? Yes, I would baby.”

-----

Taglist: @anamiad00msday @coowayeoo @craziersarah98 @tezooks @pedroscurls @logansbaby

[hippiegoth97]

Random Spencer Reid Thought #1

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, fem!reader, bau!reader, new relationship, sex at work, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, no use of Y/N, caught in the act (kinda, at the end), fluff

Some Tags: @hotwritergf @melodymunson @rafeyscurtainbangs @mediocredreams @loserboysandlithium

@bloodibambiidoll @littlexdeaths @sanctumdemunson @cairro-xx @veemoon (tbh I wasn't sure who all to tag, so I tagged some moots and people I know usually read my stuff. Feel free to ignore if it's not your thing tho lol)

"I swear to god, you're gonna get us caught one of these days, Reid." You say breathlessly, tugging on Spencer's tie to keep his lips close to yours. You'd dragged him into a nearby supply closet after the rest of the team had dispersed for lunch, most of them heading to a new BBQ place nearby. They'd asked you and Spencer to come along, but you've both had much more pressing things on your mind.

From the second you came in this morning (separately, of course, even though he'd stayed the night at your place), your eyes have wandered from your work to each other's desks from across the cluster. It's been absolute torture, forced to sit so far apart, unable to touch each other or whisper all the dirty things you plan to do later. All you had to get yourself by was vivid thoughts of Spencer tossing his papers away, stalking over to you, and bending you over your desk to fuck you silly. You're sure he was picturing similar filthy things, given how often he cleared his throat and crossed or uncrossed his legs. Although, the ideas inside his head are usually more centered around getting down on his knees and burying his face between your thighs. It's a wonder that nobody seemed to notice your discomfort, really. The amount of stolen glances and fidgeting in your seats are certainly behaviors that should set off a profiler's internal alarms. But, thus far, you've managed to fly just below everyone's radar.

You've been seeing each other for a few months now, keeping it a secret from everybody else. It started off as a fluke date shortly after you joined the BAU team, and Spencer took a shine to your quick wit and bottomless well of intellect in no time at all. He'd asked you out for coffee (after a barrage of peer-pressuring encouragement from Morgan), wanting to show you around a bit as you were new to the area at the time. Spencer was a complete gentleman, opening the door for you, pulling out your chair, offering you his jacket when you got cold. Add on the way you talked one another's ears off about everything under the sun, moon and stars, and you were hooked on each other in an instant. Neither of you had met anyone who could keep up, or maintain your interest before. By the time he walked you home that night, you shared in the knowledge that this...spark you felt was something special.

Things progressed rather quickly from there. You've gone out together at least once a week, even sneaking out at night during cases to get some quality time in. A dinner here, a tipsy make-out in either of your hotel rooms there, as well as more educational outings to the planetarium, various lectures, and art exhibits when you're at home base. It didn't take long to heat things up, either. Spencer was less experienced than you, having only a couple casual hook-ups under his belt, which went as awkwardly as one would expect. But you were patient with him, showing him what you like and what you don't, helping him figure out the same for himself. It was a simultaneously experimental and exhilarating experience for you both when you finally had sex the first time.

And now, here you are, all wandering hands and moaning mouths in a closet full of office supplies. Spencer's got you sitting on a metal filing cabinet, legs spread in your pencil skirt as he stands between them. His large hands grip and squeeze your thighs, while he rolls his hips to press his erection against your clothed cunt. "Don't act as if the idea of getting found out doesn't turn you on." Spencer teases, smiling against your lips as you tug him forward into another kiss.

"Maybe a little." You admit, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. Your eyes drift closed, and you feel his hand slowly slip further down your leg and under your skirt. His lithe fingers pull your panties to the side, rubbing sensual circles around your clit. You moan down his throat, your own hands reaching blindly for his belt now. You don't have a lot of time, as much as you hate to rush this.

"We should tell them soon. It's only a matter of time before they catch on." Spencer suggests, slipping two fingers into your soaked pussy with ease. The sound he ends up swallowing from your lungs makes his dick twitch inside his pants. Never in his life did he think he'd be so lucky to find a woman like you, or a woman at all, for that matter. Spencer enjoys every moment spent with you like it's his last, and it's been nice existing in this safe romantic bubble. But sneaking around has its disadvantages, namely having to keep his hands to himself when you're around the team. Far be it from Reid to be unprofessional in any sense, but, fuck, it's so hard to behave when you're around.

"I know, Penelope's been dropping lots of extra hints lately." You say with a light laugh, your insides boiling as Spencer curls his digits inside of you. They're perfectly long and slender, reaching all the right places every time. He's made you come with them alone on many occasions.

"I noticed. She's not very subtle." Reid chuckles, his gaze drifting down as you manage to get his belt unfastened. You waste no time in undoing to button and zip, reaching inside his boxers to grab hold of his aching length. According to you, he's very well endowed. Even though he's aware the average size of male genitalia is 5.1 inches when erect, he's never gotten curious enough to measure himself. A brief visual guess probably puts him at around seven or eight, not that he's all that concerned about it. All he cares about it making you happy, and his mind is far too vast to be fixated on how long his cock is.

"I don't think she ever has been." You comment, eyes focused on Spencer's dick in your grasp. He's rock solid, his tip rosy pink and leaking pearlescent precum. The sight makes your pussy throb around Reid's fingers. If you had more time, you'd drop to your knees in an instant.

"And that's why we love her." Spencer adds, groaning as you stroke him nice and slow. The both of you keep this up for a moment, zeroing in on one another's most sensitive areas that you've craved all day. Soft sighs and moans leave your mouths, mingling with the wet schlick sounds of your foreplay. "But, enough about the team." He says softly, meeting your gaze. His free hand cups your cheek, drawing you in closer as you stare into his beautiful brown eyes. "This moment is just for us." He nearly whispers as he kisses you deeply, lovingly. Neither of you have dropped the 'L' word yet, though you both certainly feel it for one another. But the time to say it definitely isn't during a lunchtime quickie in a damn closet. The occasion will present itself, at a later date.

While Spencer has your attention captured in the kiss, he gently takes his cock from your grasp and into his own. He gasps against you, tangling his tongue with yours to make your knees weak, just like you taught him. He gives his dick a couple fervent strokes, taking his fingers out of your cunt so he can line himself up. You whine at the loss, though your stomach twists in anticipation of what will soon take their place. Using his pruned fingers to hold your panties to the side, the sticky tip of Spencer's cock nudges against your center. More moans brew within your throats, kept hidden inside to prevent you from being discovered.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hands tangling in his hair as you melt into him. His lips and tongue make you feel dizzy with lust, and his cockhead rutting against your folds is sending you into orbit. "Spence, please. I need you, baby." You plead between desperate kisses.

"I need you, too, you have no idea." Reid replies, pulling back just a moment so he can see what he's doing. He positions his dick at your entrance, and pushes inside at an agonizing pace. Low moans escape you both, you at the stretch, and him at the squeeze. "Fuck, you're so wet." Spencer says, trying to keep his cool.

"All for you, Spence." You say sweetly, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him as close to you as possible with your legs. His hands return to your thighs, holding on tight as he begins to thrust.

Spencer starts off slow, watching as his cock pumps in and out of your pussy with no resistance. Your arousal makes him all shiny in the dim light, already forming a creamy ring around his base. "God, you're perfect." He exhales, unable to think of a single thing that looks as beautiful as this. The two of you, becoming one, your interlocking parts sculpted by nature to fit together flawlessly. Nothing within his expansive memory could possibly compare.

"So are you, baby. Can you go faster? We're running out of time." You beg pathetically, needing this release before you inevitably have to go back to work filling out papers and looking over crime scene photos.

"I hate how right you are about that." Spencer replies with a broken sigh, picking up speed with his thrusts. The infallibly accurate internal clock you share is ticking down, every push of his hips against yours marking each second that's taken from you. He plants his lips on yours again, focusing on giving you what those desperate noises you're making are telling him. You need him, all of him. Every last inch rutting into your sopping cunt until you see stars. And when it comes to you, Reid always aims to please.

"Fuck, Spence, just like that." You pant between fervent kisses, marveling at the way his cock pounds into your g-spot with flawless precision. The coil of arousal you've been building up since you sat down with your coffee this morning ripples and tangles with every thrust.

It becomes rather difficult for Spencer to keep kissing you when his pace picks up even more. His head falls forward, resting on your shoulder as he continues to wind you both up towards ecstasy. He turns his head slightly, hatching the naughty idea to speak lowly in your ear. "I can't wait until we get home later, and I can take my time with you." He says, trying so hard not to let the loud groans he wants to emit come through. They come out as hushed whimpers instead, which only turns you on more.

"Fuck." You let out a small noise of your own, muted as you bite down on your lower lip. But he hears it all the same, and keeps going.

"I'll spend all night touching you in all your favorite places, fuck you until the sun comes up, make you cry out for me as many times as you ask me to." His words are equally filthy and adoring, showing you just how much he wants to worship you and your body. Chills run up and down your spine as he speaks, his breath burning hot against your neck. It's nearly too much, and yet, you can't enough.

"God, Spence, please don't stop!" You moan, far too loudly.

"Now who's gonna get us caught?" Reid teases, even though the way you squealed nearly made him blow his load entirely.

"Sorry...sorry..." You pant the words out, for fear of being too loud again.

"It's okay, baby. I like knowing just how good I make you feel." He coos to you, almost sending you over the edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly in warning. His breath catches at the sensation, right there with you in terms of how close you are to reaching climax. "God, that's it...you're so close, so am I. Gonna make you cum, gonna make you feel so good, I swear...so fucking good..." Spencer's mind sprints faster than his mouth can get the words out, barely audible as he buries himself further into your neck. He slams himself into you even harder, faster, chasing his release and dragging you alongside him.

"Spencer, oh my god." You gasp as he hits that perfect place inside you cunt even better than before, his hips pounding against yours hard enough to leave bruises. His hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, his mouth sucking and licking at your neck in a feverish need to make you lose control. It's definitely working, the waves of bliss beginning to roll over you in thick crashes. "Oh, god, make me cum, baby...don't stop, you feel so good..." You babble mindlessly as your insides flutter around Reid's dick, threatening to clamp down on him at any moment. "Fuck, oh, I'm gonna cum...oh, god- fuck...oh, spenceSpenceSPENCE!" You clap a hand over your mouth to conceal your scream as your orgasm takes hold. You tremble violently in Spencer's grip, your pussy strangling him with all its might. Stars blur your vision, pure pleasure coursing through your veins at lightning speed. You cling to him, nails clawing at his back, heels digging into his ass helplessly.

"Fuck-ing- god." Spencer stutters out as you squeeze him so tight, biting down hard into your neck to muffle the load groan rushing from his chest. He pierces you sloppily through his release, painting your eager walls with thick ropes of sticky white, hips stuttering and feral grunts leaving him with every stab of his spent cock. He gradually comes to a stop as your shared high subsides, pulling his softening length from you, watching as your mixed release flows from your now-sore cunt. He reaches into his pocket for a kerchief he keeps for such occasions, gazing adoringly into your lust-drunk eyes as he cleans you up. He would use his mouth, if there were time for such things.

You gasp as the soft fabric meets your puffy lips, never breaking Spencer's stare while he takes care of you. You've never felt more in love in your life than you do right now, with your legs still spread wide open, while this gorgeous, scrawny, genius wipes your combined spend away. Once you're all clean, he pulls your skirt back down over your legs, and puts his flaccid cock inside his pants, fastening the belt with casual ease. He helps you down from the cabinet, noting your wobbling legs as you stand in your sensible heels.

"All set?" He asks, earning a giggle from you as his hair has become more of a mess than usual.

"Almost." You say softly, smoothing down his unruly locks to look more presentable, and less like you two just went to town on each other over lunch. "Well, we'd better get back out there. The others should be arriving back now." You say, heading for the door first. You hate to leave at all, but the last thing you need is to get caught right now.

"I'll wait the three minutes, and meet you back in there." Three minutes, the amount of time you'd determined was appropriate enough to excuse you both coming back to the bullpen near the same time without raising suspicion. No one bats an eye at three minutes difference. It could be explained away as a coffee refill, a bathroom break, anything really. But returning at the same time? Or leaving this small room at the same time? Out of the question. You'd made the mistake of returning at the same time once, and you didn't hear the end of it from the team for a good three days, despite the assertion that you and Reid had been in separate places at the time.

"Okay. See you then." You nod, giving him a quick kiss. You open the door, checking to see if the coast is clear. Satisfied with your findings, you step out from the closet, closing the door behind you. You're about to turn and walk in the direction of the bullpen, when you end up smack dab in front of Penelope. You have no idea where she came from just now, or how long she's been hiding out. But the sly smirk on her face tells you she knows enough. "Hey, Garcia. How was your lunch?" You ask nervously, failing to play it cool.

"Oh, it was good. I brought some leftover eggplant parmesan from home." Penelope replies, nearly bursting with the knowledge that you and Reid have indeed been hooking up, as she rightly suspected. "How was yours?" She asks coyly, biting her lip as she expects you to spill all the gory details she couldn't hear through the door.

"It was...fine. I packed a lunch as well." You answer, clearing your throat.

"Oh, I'm sure you packed something. What did you have? Some sausage maybe? Or a footlong?" Penelope continues to tease, and at this point, you know the jig is up.

"Oh, alright! Yes, I did! You happy now?" You exclaim, rolling your eyes as your arms cross out of reflex.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Garcia chuckles, doing one of the dorkiest victory dances you've ever seen. The few passersby give her a sideways glance, but she doesn't pay them any mind.

"Okay, okay!" You put your hands on her shoulders to still her, meeting her eyes. "Look, can you just promise me you won't say anything? Spencer and I plan to tell everyone when the time is right, but we like keeping this thing to ourselves for now. Alright?" You implore with her to keep her mouth shut, for your sake, as your friend, and Spencer's.

"Yeah, I can do that." She nods in understanding, pulling you in for a hug. "I'm so happy for you guys!" She squeals, getting excited again.

"Thanks, Garcia. I appreciate that." You smile, returning her embrace.

"So do I." Spencer says from the other side of the door.

"You better treat her right, pretty boy! Or mama is gonna get you!" Penelope warns with all the love in the world.

"I fully intend to." Spencer replies, and you can practically see his lovesick expression from out here, and how his eyes must be looking straight at where he imagines you're standing, meaning every one of those four simple words.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙄𝙫𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Angst (Happy ending of course)

Warnings: Abusive father! Violence, Blood, Alcohol, Sick mother, Lots of cursing. Father is a real piece of shit and puts hands on reader multiple times. Sorry for any mistakes or missing tags.

Just for another warning because I think it’s important. This has content that could trigger some people. Please please read the warnings. If any of them make you uncomfortable please don’t read. Also a reminder. You’re not alone. No one ever should be laying their hands on you. I love you. You’re loved. You don’t ever deserve anything like this.

Find The Request Here

-🖤

Changbin wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him. He kissed your neck tenderly nuzzling himself into your neck. You both were snuggled up on the couch watching a show. “My angel” he said softly before softly kissing your neck once more. When you were with him it felt like nothing else mattered like the world was alright. Your moment of happiness was short lived though seeing your phone buzzing. It was your father. Just seeing his name flash on your phone made you anxious.

After your mother had passed away your dad became an even bigger monster. He was always a good for nothing, But now not working as much as he did he stayed home drinking. Your mother had told you before the only reason she had stayed with him was because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her family was from another country, she didn’t have much money or friends. She was such a brave woman though. You don’t know how she dealt with him so long but I guess him never really being home helped. He had gotten fired from his big job because of his drinking and anger problems. Going to work one day hungover and punching a coworker so hard it broke his nose. He had to pay a hefty fine for that. Now he has a slow job where he only works a few days.

One of your earliest memories of him being his asshole self was him telling you how he hated that you were a girl. He hated that in his words ‘that useless bitch couldn’t even give me a boy.’ He wanted a son so badly and he made sure you knew that. He never really bonded with you however he’d be damned if you didn’t respect his authority. The first time he ever laid hands on you, you were 9. You accidentally knocked over a table braking the lamp that was placed on it. He grabbed you by the wrist smacking you across the face. ‘You stupid fucking brat! Look what you did, you’re just like your fucking mother!’ He spat pushing you away from him.

After that day it just kept going. Having to wear long sleeves at school to hide the bruises. At one point you had to stay home for almost a week. You had stepped in front of him to protect your mom when he hit you square in the face busting your lip. It stayed swollen and bruised for a while. Tooth slightly cracked from the incident.

You wanted so badly to tell someone. Confide in a teacher anything. You were scared to though. Scared they’d blame your mom, put her in jail and take you away. So you endured it. As your mom started to get sick he turned more of his attacks on you. Although a complete peace of shit he wasn’t stupid. He knew if he did anything to her the doctors would see it.

After she had passed you kept yourself from the house as best as you could. Not going home as much as you possibly could. You got a job at a cafe down the road and that’s how you met changbin. He was a regular who once you started talking admitted to only coming so much to see you.

You kept your home life a secret to him as much as you could but one day you were getting intimate you forgot about the bruises. When he had lifted your shirt his smile dropped. He looked at you with wide eyes “what the fuck? Who did this to you?” He said clenching his jaw. All you could do was sob he held you in his arms rubbing your back. “I’m sorry for raising my voice I just- y/n please- what happened?” He asked.

Through your sobs you told him, you unloaded everything in a word vomit of sadness. He would and wanted to go find your father. To beat him senseless, to show him how it feels but he knew you needed him more. He held you so tightly, feeling his own heart breaking from your words. Knowing a family member could do this to someone they were supposed to protect. To love and cherish just broke him. He was such a family oriented person and now he realized why you never wanted him to meet him. Never talked about him. He asked why you couldn’t just leave explaining to him how your mother wasn’t from here, how you had no family and no one else to rely on.

“Shit- it’s my dad” you said frantically picking the phone up.

“Where the fuck are you? He spat.

“I’m- I’m just at a friend’s house” you stuttered.

He laughed “sure, you’re probably slutting around. Get your fucking ass home.”

He hung up leaving you shaking. “I gotta go.” You said picking your keys up.

“Y/n you don’t have to” Changbin said with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You said before heading to the door.

Your brain wondered what was going on. Why he needed you home. As you pulled up coming through the door you saw him slumped in his usual chair. “About fucking time” he hissed. “Do something useful and go get me some more beer” he demanded.

You stood there almost dumb founded. Before he hissed again “don’t make me say it again!”

You nodded heading down to the store and getting it for him. When you got home again you sat the beer beside him. He gave you a smirk “glad you know how to listen” he chuckled. Your nose twitched at his smell, you hated being close to him. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and B.O. always radiated off of him. He motioned for you to leave and you did slinking back to your room to text changbin.

Him: Y/n! Text me back! I’m worried!

You: I’m fine. He just wanted beer

Him: I swear I’ll end him one of these days

You: I’m gonna go to bed ok? I’ll see you in the morning! Love you!

Him: Love you to beautiful. Text me when you wake up🖤

You fell asleep shortly after always finding peace in sleep. The next few days were the same old. Going to Changbins after work going home late when you knew he’d be passed out. Today though. You had to run home for your wallet. When you walked through the door your dad was in the kitchen. You took one look around and realized something had to have happened. Things were thrown around. Smashed. Your body froze before you could go to walk back out he saw you.

“Where do you think you’re fucking going!” He yelled. He made a bee line toward you.

“I’m- I’m picking up another shift at work I just came home to grab something.” You lied.

“Bull fucking shit!” He spat.

He grabbed you by your throat lifting you up against the wall. His eyes were dark, knuckles bloody from punching the wall. “I get fucking fired from my god damn job only to come home to see you running back out? For what huh? To go fucking whore around some more?” He said. “No! There’s gonna be some fucking changes!” He screamed.

He dropped you to the floor before grabbing you by your wrist dragging you to the kitchen. “You’re gonna get another fucking job, you’re gonna start paying the other bills!” He spat. “You got it!”

When you didn’t answer right away he slapped more like punched you across the face. “Answer me bitch!” He said gritting his teeth. All you could do was nod scared for your life. You felt a warmth running down, your nose was bleeding.

“You’re fucking pathetic you know that, just like your fucking mother! That bitch. That bitch fucking deserved what she got! I’m glad she’s fucking dead!” He spat. Something had come over you at that point. You shoved back making him stumble backwards. You made a dash to the door luckily in his drunken stupor he stumbled getting back up. You ran. Not even bothering getting in your car afraid it take to long.

So you ran. You ran as fast as you could until you couldn’t anymore. You hid yourself in the bushes at the park panting. Trying to catch your breath as you fumbled to call changbin. “Hey angel” he said happily but when he heard you breathing heavy his heart sank. “Y/n what’s wrong? Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m- I’m at the- park down- down the road- please” you stuttered out.

“Stay there I’m just down the road!” He said before grabbing his keys speeding to you.

He gripped the steering wheel afraid for what had happened. “Angel? I’m here!” He yelled out.

You peaked your head out, when he got a good look at you anger filled his body. ‘That mother fucker’ he snarled. There was no time to be angry right now though. You needed him. So desperately needed him.

He sat beside you pulling you into his arms. He took his jacket placing it around you as he whipped away the blood from your nose. He noticed the handprint mark around your neck, he gritted his teeth seething. You sobbed, holding onto him for dear life. He rubbed your back “ssh sh it’s ok angel, I’m here, I got you.” He said.

He rocked you back and forth letting your sobs subside before asking you anything. “Does it hurt?” He asked lifting your face to him looking over your nose and neck. You nodded. It hurt to swallow, hurt to breathe, everything just hurt. “Can I take you to the hospital?” He asked. You were hesitant but you nodded.

The car ride there all he could do was watch over you. Scared something could seriously be wrong. Cursing at himself for not being there. He was in the process of finding a new place. A new place so you could move in with him. The only reason you didn’t live with him now was for the fact he had other roommates and if the tenant found out about you they all could be evicted. He was gonna surprise you today with the good news, that he found a place. Close to his work and close to a bakery you had wanted to work at.

When he had gotten to the hospital they all looked at him like he had done it. They checked you over asked him a million questions. The cops being called from below to ask him questions. They weren’t completely shocked when they heard your dad’s name. He was notorious for his anger outbursts and violence. He had a list of charges that had gotten one being the man he punched at his old job. They wrote everything down, took pictures of your bruises and wounds. Asking you lots of questions before leaving.

“Y/n did you know you had a broken rib at one point?” A nurse asking you.

You shook your head.

“Looks like it happened a while ago, it fused back but not properly. You ever have sharp pains?” She asked.

“Yeah, she use to complain about side pains but they kinda just stopped.” Changbin chimed in.

“How is she right now?” Changbin asked.

“Nothings broken however you’re lucky, the pressure he had around your throat bruised your vocal cords. Any harder you could be looking at serious damage”

The nurse had left to grab some papers changbin took your hand into his. He kissed your cheek softly rubbing his thumb over yours. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there” he said softly.

You shook your head “I don’t want him hurting you either” you said looking up at him.

“I’m proud of you though, pushing back and getting yourself out of there. Your mom would be proud” he said with a small smile. His words made you smile a bit. “She definitely would.”

“I had some news to tell you” he said hoping this would make you smile.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m moving. Well we’re moving” he said with a smile. When you looked at him a bit confused his smile grew “I got a place for the two of us. Wish it could have happened sooner but-“ he said.

You wrapped your arms around him hugging him tightly “we’re gonna live together? I’ll get to spend all the time with you?” You said eagerly.

“Yep! Got the keys today!”

When the door opened you thought it was the nurse however it was an officer. “Y/n we have your father in custody. Do you have a place to stay for the mean time?” He asked looking over at your boyfriend.

“I do, but can I go back and get something’s you asked.

The officer nodded “I’ll have to escort you because it’s a crime scene now.”

You nodded.

“Whenever you get discharged we can go alright?” He said before walking out.

After you went to the house grabbing your clothes, laptop and a few things you smiled saying good riddance to this place. You had the few things from your mom packed, having nothing more in this house for you.

Moving in with changbin was something to get use to. However he helped you every step of the way. You got into much needed therapy and after your father’s sentence you felt like things were going up. As a little house warming gift Changbin had surprised you with a cat. You had bonded with him with the many times he had taken you to the cat cafe. You always said how much you wanted him and now you had him. You had your little family now.

Changbin showered you in love as usual, never missing a chance to compliment you, praise you and tell you how much he loved you. You knew in your heart your mom wherever she was, she was happy. Happy seeing her little girl finally get out of the situation. To live her life to the fullest.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[lostsyren]

Could you do.....maybe Sofia canceling a date with Rafe because her paycheck got delayed, and she feels to embarressed to go on dates in the same clothes and had plan to buy new things. She tells him that she is sick, but then he sees her at a bonfire party. He feels heartbroken thinking she lied because she is tired of him while he is head over heels, he walks off, she runs after.....ANGGSTTT <3

˚⊱🪷⊰˚ date night

{a/n: sorry for taking so long to get to my requests but I hope it was worth the wait!!}

{summary: sofia can’t make it to date night, and rafe’s not happy about it…}

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

“You really like that dress don’t you?” Ruthie said with a slimy smirk across her face.

Those words echoed through Sofia’s mind as she stared at her closet trying to figure out what to wear with her date with Rafe.

She hadn’t even thought twice about the clothes she wore in front of Rafe and his friends before– having enough confidence in her sense of style. Sofia had carefully curated a wardrobe from lucky thrift store finds and the occasional designer splurge when she had some of her pay check left over.

So when Ruthie had teasingly poked fun at her favourite dress (a satiny, floral slip that she adored), her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“It’s so cute though, if you like that sorta thing, I can understand why you wear it so much,” Ruthie had continued, hiding her bitchy words under a guise of tooth-aching sweetness.

She hadn’t thought about it again until Rafe had asked her to come out to dinner with him a couple nights later. Sofia enthusiastically accepted– it was only when she got home to get ready, seeing her limited selection of clothes, did the stirring regret begin to overwhelm her senses and Ruthie’s words begin to engulf her brain.

She still had time to go out and buy something new, something Rafe would like (and something that would shut Ruthie up), but when she checked her account balance, she realised she didn’t have enough. After the bills for her siblings tuition and the chunk of her wage she’d spent helping her parents fix the car, she was left with nothing. And she wasn’t getting paid again till a couple weeks.

Sofia huffed exasperatedly, sinking into her bed. She hated feeling like this…feeling inferior. What if Rafe through the same thing? That he was taking her to all these flashy places, driving her around in his shiny car and she couldn’t even dress up a bit for it?

With a sinking heart, Sofia grabbed her phone to call him.

It went through instantly.

“Hey baby, everything ok?” He asked, his voice eliciting somersaults in her stomach.

“Hi Rafe, I just…I don’t think I can do dinner tonight, I’ve got this horrible headache and I think I’m just gonna go to sleep,” she fibbed, biting her lip.

“We don’t have to go out, I can pick you you up and we can just chill at mine– order from that place you like?”

Sofia didn’t like lying to him, it almost physically pained her, gnawing at her bottom lip and playing with the dead skins around her thumb. “I think I just needs some rest.”

“Ok then, get well soon yeah? And text me if you need anything alright? Goodnight Sof,” he said, disappointment toning his words.

“Night Rafe.”

She ended the call quickly, burning hot with guilt– she hated lying. Especially to her boyfriend of all people.

And now she had nothing to do for the rest of the night all because she was too embarrassed to wear the same thing twice…it was honestly so stupid. Sofia huffed and turned around in her bed.

As if sensing her impending boredom, her phone buzzed with a text from her friend, talking about a bonfire party at the Boneyard.

Sofia smiled too herself, slipping on her worn trainers and getting ready to head to the beach.

She didn’t have to worry about what to wear there.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

Rafe, along with Topper, Kelce and Ruthie drove down to the Boneyard. He wasn’t supposed to tag along, but with Sofia cancelling their plans, he had nothing better to do.

As they rolled down the rocky beach in Topper’s jeep, Rafe pulled out his phone, sending Sofia a quick text.

R: Hope that headache goes away soon then maybe we can reschedule? :)

Rafe was surprised at how disappointed he felt after she said she couldn’t make it. All he could think about sitting in the back of the car, watching the Stygian waves roll onto the coast, was how much he’d rather be with her right now.

“Yo Rafe, I thought you were busy tonight?” Kelce pestered with a smirk.

Topper chuckled lowly, “oh yeah, wasn’t it date night tonight? What happened to that?”

“She wasn’t feeling too good so now I’m stuck with you idiots.” He muttered.

“Oh come on, you’ll see her again the club. I’ll make sure to ask for doubles so she’ll come by our table twice, yeah?” Ruthie goaded, twisting her body around so she could see him.

Rafe brewed with a dull anger– he always thought Ruthie was a bitch.

“Two drinks Ruthie? You sure about that? Aren’t you a lightweight?” He scoffed.

“Hey hey hey, let’s have fun tonight yeah?” Topper mediated, parking up the jeep next to the arsenal of vehicles.

The four of them hopped out, heading to the kegger, quickly getting pulled in by their kook friends, enveloped in the heady flow of gossip and conversation. Rafe just stood quietly, sipping at his third cup, enjoying the warmth of the fire on his face and salt of the air on his tongue.

His vision strayed over to the other side of the beach, where all the pogues had congregated. And that’s when he saw her. Dressed in her favourite shorts and sunset coloured hoodie– she looked gorgeous bathed in the glow of the bonfire.

Rafe felt his heart sink into the cavern of his ribcage. She lied to him.

Settling his solo cup down on to the kegger, he pulled out his phone and rang her number, watching her like a predator eyes its prey, his dilated pupils honed on to her unassuming figure.

She excused herself from her friends, walking off to a quieter area before she answered his call.

“Hey baby,” she cooed with a smile, Rafe seething in silence as he watched.

“How you feeling? Still got that headache?” He asked bluntly, his molars grinding down on each other.

“Yeah- yes, still hurts.” She said. Rafe saw her eyebrows furrow as she bit her lip furtively.

“You at home? It sounds kinda loud over the phone?”

“Yeah my siblings have the TV on,” she blatantly lied. Rafe breathed in deeply through his nose.

“Oh so you’re not at the bonfire at the boneyard?”

Rafe watched her face drop, her gaze darting around the beach as she stayed silent on the phone. She locked eyes with him from across the sand, her mouth parting slightly, lips forming a little ‘o’ shape, something that he usually found cute, but now it just irked him.

“Rafe,” she said, voice bordering a whisper.

“You fucking liar,” he hissed, before ending the call, and heading over to the cars, ready to call an Uber for himself and head home.

He tried to regulate his lurching breaths, anger beginning to flow hot through his veins, but it was hard to do when a heart rending sadness slammed into his nervous system, catching him off guard.

Sofia? A liar? No. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t like everyone else.

His fingers struggled to order an Uber, shaking with the aftershock at seeing her deceive him with such disregard.

“Rafe! Wait please I can explain.” He whipped his head back to see Sofia approach him.

“Stop it Sofia, explain what? Huh? How you lied to me?”

A pang of regret reverberated through him when he saw her glassy, tear filled eyes, her quivering lip. Was he being too harsh? No. She was the one who was in the wrong– not him.

“I’m sorry, I just, it’s ugh it’s going to sound so stupid Rafe, but I promise I didn’t mean to hurt or lie to you.”

“What’s going to sound so stupid? Why you made an excuse to get out of being with me? You hate me that bad huh?”

“No no! Of course not. Look, Ruthie said something the other day…” she began, her cheeks red and tear stained.

“Ruthie? What the fuck does she have to do with this?” He yelled. They were on the outskirts of the party, away from the crowds and crackle of firewood.

“She was making fun of how I wear the same thing all the time, you know? And it made me get self conscious…and tonight when I was getting ready, I just got in my own head, thought you would want me dress up more, not just wear the same things every time.”

Rafe’s face contorted in confusion. She couldn’t be serious right now?

“And I can���t just buy a new dress like that, I have bills to pay and stuff so I was just feeling sorry for myself and lied because of my own stupid feelings.” Sofia’s lips began to quiver, another bout of tears quickly approaching, before she shrouded her face with her hands, muffling her soft cries.

“Sof…” he said, tone gentle and kind, feeling like shit for shouting at her. He should’ve know Sofia had a reason for lying and he should’ve know Ruthie had something to do with it.

“Ugh it was so stupid, and I feel like an idiot.” She laughed mirthlessly, as he pulled her into a hug, letting her cry against his chest.

“Baby, you know I don’t care right?”

“Yeah I know. I care though.” She mumbled against his warm embrace.

“Come on, let’s get out of here yeah?”

“Yeah, ok. I’m sorry again, I feel terrible.”

Rafe slung an easy arm around her shoulder, leading her up to road where their taxi was going to meet them, “well don’t, otherwise I’ll feel like shit for shouting at you.”

“Fine. Truce?”

Rafe chuckled softly, looking down at her with a soft smile, as she gazed up at him with her glossy eyes.

“Yeah, truce.”

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

A couple days later, after Sofia had slept over at his place, she woke up to the birds singing on Figure 8, a sound lost amidst the cacophony of building work and barking dogs on the Cut. She sighed contentedly, turning around in the sumptuous sheets ready to nestle up against Rafe, to find the bed empty. She hummed in dismay, forgetting it was Sunday, the day he needed to go down to the office.

Eventually, after letting her eyes flutter shut for a couple more blissful minutes, Sofia rolled out of bed, slipping on Rafe’s shirt, a habit she was getting increasingly used to.

She pattered across the hard wood floors ready to get into the shower, before her eyes snagged on something resting on the drawers. It was a cream coloured bag, one from those fancy stores in Kildare Town Centre, the straps made of black silk.

On it was a sticky note, Rafe’s familiar scratchy writing scrawled across the paper.

Now you don’t have an excuse to miss dinner with me :)

Sofia’s eyebrows quirked up in curiosity as she read the cryptic note, rifling into the bag.

Inside was maybe a dozen items of clothes, from satin dresses to cashmere shirts, all in shades of her favourite colours– blooming pinks, soft oranges, cherry reds. She adored every single one.

Her heart soared with excitement and warmth, her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush. Rafe could sometimes be so sweet it left her weak-kneed and gooey, her insides alight with joy.

A creeping sensation of guilt arose– these must’ve been expensive. Sofia noticed he’d removed all the tags off them, probably anticipating her qualms about the price. But she put it aside, ready to first try them on. She’d pay him back, she told herself, running her hands over the silken fabric.

Carefully unpacking each item, she laid them out on the bed, until her fingers skimmed the final one.

Pulling it out, she rolled her eyes with a small smile when she saw the two piece lingerie set Rafe had nestled at the bottom, comprised of black lace and gossamer.

Sofia laughed softly, as she put the piece along with the rest of her gifts– maybe she already had a way to pay him back, one that was much more fun than working double shifts at the club.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

[mimikittysblog]

♡18:53♡

Pairing: Poly! Ateez x Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive towards the end

Warnings: MxM, pet names, uh reader teases them at the end so ⚠️MNDI⚠️, this one I did not proofread. That’s it I think :/

A/N: Surpriiiseee! I really made this on a whim. The inspiration came out of nowhere and I just had to write it. This is much shorter than the previous one but I do hope you guys like this too hehe! Also this is VERY MUCH a self insert lol 😭 and lastly I know jackshit about league so if I get anything wrong sorry 🙏

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity (if you wanna be tagged in my next poly ateez story, texts or not then please let me know!)

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Being the only girl in this big relationship had its downsides and its perks. One of the downsides is that sometimes there are just things that the boys like that unfortunately you’re just not interested in.

One of them being gaming.

Quite cliche but it’s true.

Now it’s not like you never play any video games with the boys. You’ve guys play some Among Us, Gmod, Dead by Daylight and countless Nintendo games like Smash Bros, Mario Party and Mario Kart just to name some.

Though you don’t play Mario Party that often as you and Wooyoung always end up strangling each other by the end of it, and not the good kind.

Besides that, the list of games you and your amazing boyfriends play doesn’t even end there.

However there will be some games you just don’t care for.

One of them being League of Legends.

Just couldn’t get into it, so you just let that be their thing.

Tonight after a long week of work. The boys thought it’d be fun to treat themselves by renting a room at a nice nearby PC Bang.

Now most times you’d sit this one out and just have some alone time at home. However to their surprise you decided to join.

“I just wanna be around you guys! Your presence is enough. Plus watching you guys play is still fun, even if I don’t join!” You reasoned.

“Hmmm alright.. though if you want our attention or wanna do something else just say so!” Seonghwa said.

“Or just sit in one of our laps princess.” Mingi said teasingly.

Now usually when they are having nights like this, after a while you would eventually take up on Mingi’s offer and sit in one of their laps.

However you decided to entertain yourself another way.

After seeing some girlfriends on TikTok do this with their boyfriends while they’re gaming or watching a sports game. You decided to follow in their footsteps.

So here you are sitting in one of the comfy gaming chairs near Yeosang and Mingi, ipad on your lap with the notes app opened with a grid filled with prompts and the words “BINGO” at the top.

Yes! You decided to play Boyfriend Bingo tonight!

Throughout the night you’ve been crossing off things whenever the boys did something you predicted.

Oh! Yunho’s team won! Thats a check.

“…Guys seriously do you even know how to play?! Come on get it together! San cover me! Oh what seriously??? Guys I’m dying here!…”

Wooyoung yapping for a straight minute. Check.

“…….Yes!”

Yeosang staying silent until the end of the round. Another check.

Huh I’m good at this.

“Sweetheart you sure you’re not bored??”

“I’m sure Hwa.” You say with a suspiciously big smile.

“..okay..”

Seonghwa checking up on me. And a check!

Though somethings you had to wait a bit longer for. But you were sure you’d get them eventually. Hopefully you’d get at least 3 bingos by the end of the night.

However looking at your grid and how you have 2 bingos already, you’re positive you can cross out this entire grid.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

After a good hour you finally got Jongho becoming whiney.

Adorable. And also a check!

“Ah! …Woah!! ..Boom!!!! …Ugh!”

San only making noises for the first 5 minutes. Cheeeeck!

Oh and San suddenly grabbing someone else’s thigh? Jealous. But check!

Hmm I need to fill out this box. You thought to yourself.

“Joooongiieee? When is the food coming?” You suddenly asked.

“Huh?? Oh uh.. any minute now baby!” He replied.

“Oh darling you’re hungry?” Yeosang asked.

“Mhm! Its okay I can wait a bit- oh here it is!” You said about to get up and get the food from the worker.

“No no I got it!!” Hongjoong said as he quickly left his desk.

“WAIT NO HYUNG WE NEED YOU!” Jongho yelled.

“Just a sec!”

Subtly you checked the Hongjoong getting up in the middle of the round box. Before taking your food from him.

“Thank you my love!” You said as you kissed his cheek.

“Of course princess. You sure you’re not bored?” He asked.

“Noooope!”

“Okay the-“

“HYUNG HURRY UP WE’RE LOSING!!”

“The more you yell Jung Wooyoung the more I rather sit here with princess!” He said before going back to his seat.

Ah damn I should’ve put in ‘Wooyoung yelling when he’s losing.’ Oh wait I did! Checkity check check.

You happily continue playing as you eat your yummy food.

Also since you’re a good girlfriend, you go around giving the boys a taste of your food. Just cause you know they’re curious.

Still accepting my food while playing. Check!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Finally they decided to play one more round and you only need one more box!!

You’re confident you’re gonna get it though. Cause you know them that well.

And soon enough half of the room at the end of the match screams out in victory while the other half whines and groans in loss.

Aaaaannndd…

“Aaaww Mingles is all pouty cause he lost!” Yunho said in fake sympathy.

“Hmph.”

“Come here Mingi is okay! You’ll win next time! MMMMUAAHH!”

“BINGO!!”

Suddenly they all whip their heads to look at you.

“Bingo?” Jongho asked with a tilt of his head.

“You’ve just been playing Bingo this whole time???” San asked as well.

“Yup! Boyfriend bingo!” You said with a big smile and flipped your ipad around.

“Boyfriend bingo?” Seonghwa asked.

Yeosang then took the ipad.

“HAHA Wooyoung yapping for a straight minute!”

“WHAT?! I DID NOT?”

“I timed it.”

Wooyoung then snatched the ipad.

“Hongjoong constantly going ‘Huh?’! HAHA BABE OMG” Wooyoung then the other started laughing the more they read out your grid.

“DID I REALLY??”

“Yes love you did.” Seonghwa said with a laugh.

“Oh my, you know us scarily well love.” Yunho said.

“I’m your girlfriend!!! I’m supposed to!”

“You really are the cutest thing we could’ve ever asked for!” Yeosang said as he walked over and gave you a kiss.

“What was the last thing you crossed off baby?” Mingi asked.

“Oh! It was you getting a kiss after you lost!”

“YOU KNEW I’D LOSE??? Hmph!! Wooyoung you shouldn’t have kissed me! She would’ve lost!” He whined with a bigger pout.

“…well.. i mean.. statistically speaking you couldn’t ALWAYS win…”

Mingi then turned around in another huff.

“Princessaaaaa!!! I’m sorryyy!! Heheheh” you said as you got up, ran to him and hugged him from behind.

“Will a kiss make it better?” You asked.

“..maybe.”

“He just wants kisses!” Jongho yelled.

“EVERYONE GIVE MINGLES KISSESSS!” Wooyoung then yelled.

With that everyone quickly gathered around Mingi to give him a fat smooch. As he pretended to groan in protest.

And with that you guys all cleaned up and headed home.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“We should all play girlfriend Bingo next time!” San said as you guys made it back home.

“Ohohooo you think you can beat me? Think you know me so well Sannie??” You said teasingly.

“Oh princess we do know you so well.” Yunho chirped in.

“We’re your boyfriends! We’re supposed to!” Yeosang said mirroring your words.

“Hmmmm! Okay then! Go and each of you make your own grid! Whoever this week can get a full grid like me will get a prize!” you announced as you skipped to the bathroom to freshen up.

“A prize you say?” Hongjoong asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hmmm whoever wins gets to see me in my newest lingerie first~”

With that you took off your shirt and bra and threw it at them as you lock the bathroom door.

Groans, whines and banging at the bathroom door can be heard as you simply turned up your music.

Let’s see who knows me best!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2024

[itsjunear]

Comfort

Note: Hello, loves! I guess I disappeared again 😭 I'm sorry, there's been a lot going on these past few weeks, and I wasn’t feeling very well. This is my way of making it up to you ❤❤ I'm still working on the second part of "Shadows and Whispers", but I got sidetracked, and something totally out of my element came out of it. I’m really sorry if this turns out to be a mess, I’ve never written anything obscene and explicit before, so feel free to tell me if it’s terrible! Remember, English isn’t my first language, so if there are any mistakes, don’t hesitate to let me know! Please take care of yourself! Love you all! 💙💙💙

P.S. I didn’t tag anyone because I wasn’t really sure if you’d want it, especially after disappearing for almost a month. Sorry 😭😭

Words: +1k

Warnings: Obscenity

Summary: Reader goes to comfort Azriel after he's returned from a mission. However, things take a turn, and somehow she finds herself in a sinful situation with the shadowsinger.

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

I still didn't understand how the hell I had ended up in this situation.

Or rather, how I had ended up in this position.

My intentions in arriving at Az were completely genuine and innocent. I knew him well enough to know that he was absolutely frustrated with how the mission had ended, just as I also knew that he would try to hide his feelings because that was his way of dealing with everything.

When I arrived at the River House, I found him sitting at the foot of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands tangled in his dark hair. He was so out of it that he didn't even lift his head when he heard me enter and he didn't bother to pick up his wings either, a strong indicator of his mood.

Seeing him like this made my heart ache, and the urge to comfort him took hold of me, so I didn't even think when my feet carried me directly in front of him. Somehow, I sneaked my hand in and gently placed it on his cheek, forcing him to look up. His shadows were scattered and restless.

I wasn't ready for what I found in his hazel eyes: loneliness and resignation. He didn't even try to hide it from me, and that was what scared me the most. I was prepared to face the big wall he put up when something emotional was involved, but I wasn't ready for the honest vulnerability that hit me like a blow to the cheek.

"Aziel..." I let out with a shaky sigh.

He shook his head and for a second my body went rigid as I felt his arms wrap tightly around my waist and rest his head on my stomach. I reacted and instinctively placed one hand on his back, in the middle of his wings, and the other in his hair, scraping gently with my nails. In response, a shiver ran through him, and I stopped my movements abruptly.

"No" It was the first thing I heard him say since I had entered "Please... Just... continue."

I nodded even though I knew he wasn't looking at me and resumed my movements. He relaxed against me and settled his head higher, right between my breasts. HIS shadows calmed down then, and limited themselves to passing through us occasionally.

"Az..." I tried again.

“Y/n…” he interrupted me, pressing himself tighter against my body. "I need this right now. Just... tell me to stop if you don't want it."

I didn't stop him, and he decided to explore a little more, brushing his nose against the edge of my breasts, making me shiver. One of his hands that was on my waist went down to my ass and squeezed hard, but at the same time slowly, as if he wanted to melt into my skin.

A gasp of surprise escaped my lips when I felt him place soft kisses on my breasts, near the nipples, covered only by an old shirt that was too big for me. He put it in his mouth, wetting the shirt, making my hands fly straight to his hair, tangling and pulling gently. A grunt of approval came from Azriel, and all logical thought vanished from my mind, leaving me completely blank and a prisoner of sensations.

His hands became bolder reaching for one of my perfectly fitting breasts and he squeezed, making me gasp.

"You're so beautiful" he said breathily and pulled my shirt up over my head.

My breasts were exposed, and directly at the height of his lips, so he did not hesitate to put them in his mouth. I just arched my back, delighted in the way he made me feel even though I knew this was wrong. Az was very vulnerable right now and it was a miracle that he was showing me this side of him.

That thought hit me like a bucket of cold water and brought my feet back to earth.

"Az," I called after a moment. "We can't..." I gasped as I felt him pull my nipple between his lips. "Listen, I don't think this is a good idea..."

"I need to feel you close. I need to know that you are here with me," he pleaded in a tone of voice I had never heard before, "Making you feel good will make me feel good."

"But I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantage..."

"I need this. I need you" he interrupted me.

That took my breath away and the way he looked like I was his only lifeline made me give in, so I finally nodded.

The shadowsinger rewarded me by leaving a wet kiss on my neck before separating for a moment to unbutton his leathers and reveal all his glory. I didn't hold back and gently touched his skin, trying to convey everything I felt through those caresses, trying to tell him that I was there for him and from the way he tensed where my fingers passed, I assumed he could understand it. I even brushed the edge of one of his wings and he shivered violently, not hiding the low moan that escaped.

His hands moved down to unbutton my shorts without leaving soft kisses combined with licks on my neck. I dug my nails carefully into his back, avoiding the membranes, and he let out a hoarse moan that went deep into my bones. He slowly slid my pants down caressing my legs in the process and then helped me out of them once they hit the carpet beneath my feet.

That's how I was left in nothing but panties in front of Azriel, who was looking at me like I was the only damn person in his life that he had ever wanted. I didn't feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, on the contrary, I had the feeling that he was memorizing me.

“Y/n” he ​​called with rapid breathing “You are beautiful, fucking beautiful.”

His words also had more meaning, I realized. It was the second time he had told me this tonight and somehow, he managed to warm my heart.

The shadowsinger manipulated my body to his liking, so he gave me one last open-mouthed kiss right over my heart before turning me over, leaving me on my back now. I felt him fill my spine with kisses and hook his fingers on my panties, slowly lowering them until he left a kiss on my lower back that made me shudder.

Completely naked, she took me by the waist to place me on his lap. I could feel his hardness beneath me, and he hissed when I ground my hips together.

I was sitting in the middle of his legs, until he hooked one of his hands and put one of my legs over his, so that I was wedged over it, although I still rested my back on his chest.

Then he hugged me, imprisoning me in his arms and hiding his face in my neck. His hands then went down, directly to my center, and he began to touch me with gentle movements, slow caresses on the clitoris that made me gasp. A moan escaped from the back of my throat as I felt his fingers slide into my folds and curve them deliciously.

"That's it honey, let me hear you" he whispered in my ear.

He repeated the movement, and my body went crazy when he added another finger. Everything was slow and felt completely different, it felt more intimate, fuller of feeling. His fingers worked magic inside me while he caressed my clit with his thumb. It was too much, and I figured Az could sense it because he sped up his movements.

Another moan escaped my lips as one movement pushed me over the edge and the orgasm rippled through me making me tremble, sweeping through everything. Azriel did not stop his hands, prolonging the sensation and supporting all my weight, since I had practically collapsed on top of him.

After a few seconds, he did something that left me gasping, partly from the orgasm he just gave me, and partly from the sensual sight. He took his fingers out of me, not caring in the least about the mess, and sucked on them, looking into my eyes before resting his forehead against mine.

"Az" I whispered in between a gasp.

He lunged at my lips and there are no words to describe the way he kissed me. It was messy, a combination of tongue and teeth, but it felt perfect, like once in a lifetime, everything fit together.

I walked away after a moment, to catch my breath, and he grimaced as if it physically hurt him not to be around, to which I responded by standing up and climbing up behind him, only this time who hid his face in his neck. It was me, absolutely enjoying the skin-to-skin contact and the way he held me close to his bare chest and mine.

Az didn't care about the mess I was probably making on his leathers still wearing my fluids. He didn't seem interested in any of that.

"Thank you for staying," he said after a moment, wrapping his wings around us.

"You have nothing to thank me for," I responded, taking his face in my hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, now that you're here." He responded and for emphasis, one of his shadows caressed my arm with a cold touch, making me smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked as I ran a finger over the membrane of his wing again.

A shudder consumed him along with a gasp and he rested his head on my shoulder.

"Not yet"

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. Trying to give him comfort beyond words and show him that she was here with him. Not anywhere else.

[aalixsturns]

Unexpected Harmony

It was a chilly autumn evening, and Y/N was sitting on a bench at the edge of a quiet park, sipping on a hot chocolate. She wrapped her scarf a little tighter around her neck as she scrolled through her phone, lost in her thoughts. Suddenly, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Startled, she looked up to see none other than Matt Sturniolo standing there with his usual grin and a hot coffee in hand.

"Hey, Y/N," Matt said, his voice warm and easygoing. "Mind if I join you?"

She felt her cheeks flush, but managed a nod, trying to play it cool. They’d met at a friend’s party a few weeks ago, and since then, Matt had a habit of showing up in the most unexpected places – though she didn’t mind one bit.

"Fancy meeting you here," she teased, scooting over to make room for him on the bench.

Matt shrugged and gave her that playful smirk of his. "What can I say? Maybe I just have good timing."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the crisp autumn air surrounding them. As they sipped their drinks, Matt glanced at her with a thoughtful expression. "So, Y/N, what’s the plan for the night? Or were you just planning on people-watching alone?"

Y/N laughed. "Yeah, people-watching was the plan. But since you’re here… maybe we can come up with something a bit more exciting."

Matt’s eyes lit up. "Now you’re talking! Let’s go do something completely random. How do you feel about crashing a karaoke bar?"

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Matt was already on his feet, offering her his hand. "Come on, I know a place nearby," he said, grinning like he’d been waiting for this moment.

They walked to the karaoke bar, laughing and making jokes the entire way. When they got there, it was exactly what Y/N imagined – colorful lights, loud music, and people who seemed to take karaoke way too seriously.

After a few songs from other brave singers, Matt grabbed her hand and led her to the stage. "Ready for our duet?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "I’m not sure if they’re ready for us, but let’s do it."

They sang, danced, and completely stole the show with a wildly out-of-tune performance, but neither of them cared. By the end of the night, they were breathless, laughing, and feeling like they’d known each other for ages.

As they walked out into the cool night, Matt looked over at her with a soft smile. "Tonight was perfect. We should do it again sometime."

Y/N smiled back, knowing she’d never forget this night. "Anytime, Matt."

And as they walked off together, she had a feeling this was just the start of something unforgettable.

Tags: @madifilipowiczslvt @sophand4n4 @daysonend @phone4pills @sweetreliever

[shimmershy]

Chara Week Day 5: Ghost

Every time I see that machine in the True Lab, I wonder if it could possibly be Chara's soul in there? Probably unlikely, but not impossible... It's interesting to think about what the implications of that would be.

A version with no text and then a version with just the machine, because I think it looks pretty cool and ominous alone as well.....

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[scopophobia-polaris]

first female loz director and the gerudo seem to be written fine enough? wow... there ain't no way I thought we were in the worst timeline after totk

Yeah got through the main quest with the gerudo, it wasn't painful! It wasn't even bad! Still got them outfits but for the most part it was like oh cool!

I would say a lot of that oh cool is from the fact they didn't do a lot to even fuck it up to begin with, I'm gonna be real with yall this game is NOT worth $60USD

Edit: lemme say one thing, you know when people were being like damn totk story wasn't dark or mature at all why was this compared to Majora's mask again? And then all the zeldatwt people came out and said zelda is just a kid series domt expect good writing uH

This one feels like a kid's game. That ain't to say it's terrible I would say, hell I'm not far in it if I get something crazy that's like OH FUCK I'll reblog this post and say something but uh.....game for babies I'm gonna be shocked if anyone struggles with any puzzles cuz you CAN CHEESE THEM EASY ITS 🫢🤭

EDIT EDIT: I SWEAR IM NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE A DOWNER..... @ezlo-x HAS BEEN THERE THE WHOLE TIME IVE BEEN PLAYING....THEY KNOW I HAVENT BEEN A PARTY POOPER.....

[front-facing-pokemon]

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneepy cozy....

[morningmask27]

Tonight, right now, not even ten minutes ago, might have been the closest I got to an outright hatecrime

[satari-raine]

My graduate thesis - after (somehow) successfully defending it last week to my committee team - just got officially accepted by my school. Time to become a blanket burrito and (try to) sleep forever out of relief that it's finally finished.

[sweetnessfollowsmp3]

genuinely want diet culture to die a violent and horrible death